The Patricia Kiyono Christmas Collection (7 page)

~~~~

Sophie took Nolan
DeSmit’s business card and put it in her purse
before going into the choir room. She’d always liked Nolan. He’d
been a few years ahead of her in high school, and he’d been a star
athlete as well as a homecoming court member. But he’d always been
kind, and if he was willing to let her call him, she probably
would.

Right at the moment she needed to focus her
attention on the thirty squirming children in front of her. Sunday
morning rehearsals were better for getting things done because the
Sunday School teachers were there to help, so the kids weren’t as
antsy. Too bad all the kids couldn’t be as sweet as the little
girls in the front row. Angie Carson sat among of them, her
gap-toothed grin bringing a familiar longing to Sophie’s heart.

Angie’s father had come with her to church.
Would Mitch come regularly? It had been a real challenge to avoid
looking across the aisle at him. As Grandma Gardner used to say,
“He cleans up well.” Mitch was probably the kind of man who looked
good no matter what he was wearing. No wonder Patrice was
attracted. The flirty blonde had sashayed right up to him and
introduced her gorgeous self, the little hussy.

She couldn’t blame Patrice, not really.
Mitch looked at ease in dress clothes. He’d probably had to attend
some fancy events in Chicago. Maybe someday soon she’d be attending
functions like that in Hollywood.

She could see the event in her mind’s eye.
The spotlight would shine on her as she mounted the stairs…

At the top, a young girl handed her a
statuette, and the announcer — Martin Something-or-other — shook
her hand. She took her place at the podium and looked out over her
adoring fans. Thousands of people — celebrities, most of them, sat
facing her, waiting for her immortal words. Cameras overhead
pointed at her, and the lights on them told her that millions of
people watched her from their television sets. Her gown was a
shimmering sheath of jade satin, draped elegantly and skimming her
perfectly manicured toes. Her silver sandals sported heels so high
she felt tall and confident. She clutched the gleaming statuette to
her breast and crooned, “I’d like to thank the Academy—”

“
Miss Sophie, we’re ready.
What song would you like to start with?”

Mabel Groendyke sat at the piano, ready to
begin the rehearsal portion. Sophie blinked. Instead of the famous
statuette, she held her notebook. Her plain wool skirt and sweater
replaced the flowing gown, and sensible flats covered her feet. She
was back in Zutphen, Michigan, and she had a pageant to produce.
There would be no award ceremonies for quite a while. Sighing, she
opened her notebook. “Let’s start at the beginning. I’ve got an
idea for some dance moves to add to the opening song…”

~~~~

So the photographer
is going to church. Is he trying to clean up his
image, or is he trying to impress the pretty lady?

Roger Duncan set his camera down on the
passenger seat and watched Mitch get into his car. He started his
own car but waited to put it in gear until he could follow at a
distance. The girl hadn’t come out yet. Maybe she was one of those
Sunday School types who stayed in the church all day like his
grandma had. If he’d known his target was headed for church, he
would have put on his suit so he could have gone inside. But in his
sweatshirt and jeans, he would have stood out, so he’d stayed in
the corner of the parking lot and kept an eye on the door.

This guy’s clean-cut, church-going lifestyle
could make the job take a lot longer than he’d expected. His client
had made it sound like her son-in-law was a real low-life and a
terrible father. All she needed was some evidence, like pictures of
him carousing around, or proof he didn’t take care of his daughter.
But so far the guy hadn’t slipped up, not once.

Maybe it was time to drum up a distraction
or two.

S
ophie took a
deep breath before
entering the choir room for another Wednesday night practice.
Sunday’s rehearsal had gone well, once she’d awakened from her
daydream and gotten to work. Thinking about it still made her face
burn.

She held up her hands for silence. Nothing
happened. Other than the first graders in the front row, the kids
ignored her. She clapped her hands. A few turned to look at her,
and then went back to their conversations. Time for Plan C. She put
her fingers to her lips and blew. The talking stopped and she
started in on instructions before they could recover.

“
First graders, thank you
so much for being in your places and ready to work. You guys will
get a special treat later. Second and third graders, you need to
get to your seats now. Your feet and hands should NOT touch anyone
else. You have sixty seconds. GO!”

Kids scrambled. She watched the second hand
on the wall clock and counted. “Forty-five seconds. Thirty seconds.
Fifteen seconds. Five, four, three, two one. FREEZE!”

All but two were in place. The twin terrors,
Jordan and Josh, continued to run. They chased each other,
oblivious to everyone else. The other kids started to react, either
cheering them on or complaining.

Mrs. VanMeter had given Sophie a few tips
for managing their behavior. She’d anticipated trouble from them,
so the minute the sixty seconds had started, she’d maneuvered
herself around the group to where the twins ran. She caught each
twin by one arm.

“
Josh and Jordan, you did
not make it to your assigned place in sixty seconds. You must now
pay the penalty.” She led them to the front row. The rest of the
children froze in place, wanting to see what horror they would be
subjected to if they didn’t follow directions.

“
Since you didn’t find a
place to sit, I will find one for you.” She plopped one boy in an
empty spot in the front row, and the other one in a spot in the
second row.

The first twin popped up immediately. “I
don’t wanna sit there,” he complained. “I’m not gonna sit by a
couple o’ girls!”

“
You had sixty seconds to
find the right row to sit in. Since you didn’t bother to follow
directions, you lost the right to choose. Sit.”

“
No.”

“
Okay.” She pulled her cell
phone out of her pocket and started dialing. Thirty kids froze,
their eyes wide.

“
Are you calling Grandma
Longton?” one of the twins asked.

She didn’t answer. “Hi,” she said into the
phone. “I need you.” A pause. “Thanks.” Putting the phone back into
her pocket, she smiled at the frightened children. “It’s okay. I
just asked a friend of mine to stop in.”

“
A friend? Aww, she
probably didn’t talk to anybody. She was just pretending. Mommy
does that sometimes.” Jordan puffed out his chest, displaying his
bravado.

Josh wasn’t so sure. “What if she really did
call Grandma?” he asked his brother. “Remember what happened last
time, when she was here? Remember what she said after
practice?”

Jordan reconsidered. Apparently, the
possibility of his grandmother coming to discipline him again was
enough of a threat, because he sat where Sophie put him.

“
Let’s review the Three
Wisemen Song,” she told the group.

Things went fairly well for about ten
minutes. Sophie started to relax as the kids sang a rollicking song
about riding a camel across the desert. She taught them to bend
their knees and then straighten up on alternate beats of the song,
illustrating a rough ride. But the cooperation was short-lived.

“
I don’t wanna sing that
song. It’s stupid.” Jordan got up and headed to the door. “I’m
gonna call Mom. I wanna go home.” He pulled open the door and ran
smack into a pair of khaki covered legs. He looked up and grinned.
“Uncle Nolan! Can you take me home?”

Nolan DeSmit, dressed in his police uniform,
was a formidable figure. He knelt down so he was face to face with
his nephew. “Sorry, buddy. I can’t do that. You need to stay here
and do what Miss Sophie says without running around. Unless she
says to run around.” He looked up at Sophie. “Did you tell Jordan
to run around, Miss Sophie?”

Sophie shook her head.

“
Then I guess we’d better
sit quietly like the rest of the kids here.” He stood, took
Jordan’s hand, and led him back to the chairs. “Why don’t you show
me where you’re supposed to sit? I’ll watch. I’ll bet you’re the
best singer in the bunch. But if you want people to listen, you’ve
gotta be doing what you’re asked to do. And afterwards, if you
behave yourself, then I’ll take you home, if you want.”

“
I wanna sit by Uncle
Nolan, too,” Josh cried, leaping up out of his chair.

“
Josh, Miss Sophie probably
had you sitting over there because you were getting into trouble
with your brother. If you want to move, you’d better clear it with
her. Otherwise you need to stay where you're supposed to
sit.”

Josh turned pleading eyes toward Sophie, and
she managed to keep a serious face as she nodded her consent.

Sophie mouthed a thank-you to her high
school friend. Running into him after church, she’d been eager to
ask for assistance from both sides of the twins’ family. Though
having their grandmother there the previous week had been helpful,
she couldn’t ask the lady to sit through all the rehearsals. Not
surprisingly, only a few of their other relatives had been willing
to help. Fortunately, Nolan had agreed, and having a big policeman
there encouraged the rest of the children to behave.

Seeing the twins settled, she proceeded with
the rehearsal.

“
I am going to play some
Christmas songs you might know, and I want you to sing along,”
Sophie said. “While you’re singing, I want you to use your best
voices, because I’m going to come around and listen. You don’t have
to sing louder when I’m nearby, because that just makes your voice
sound bad. But while I’m listening, I’m going to find out who has
the best voices for singing, and who has good voices for speaking.”
She started up her mp3 player, which she had plugged into a
portable speaker. Strains of familiar Christmas songs began, and
some of the kids sang along. A lot of them were monotone, and
Sophie made mental notes to give those kids speaking parts. But one
voice soared with clarity. Josh Longton. Jordan wasn’t bad either,
but not quite as good as his brother. She’d have to speak to him
later about singing a special song for the program. Again, she
wrote frantically on her notebook.

The song ended, and another one started.
This one was a bit cheerier. She started a simple dance step, side
to side, encouraging the kids to join her. Most obliged her, though
several stopped singing when their feet started to move. Again, she
made mental notes about the kids who caught on quickly, and who
needed more direction. She added a hand jive, and again the kids
cooperated.

A half hour later, she had a better idea of
the songs and moves that would work. Now all she had to do was put
them together into a pageant.

~~~~

“
I haven’t heard
anything from you in weeks. Are you still on the
case, or shall I have my accountant take you off my
payroll?”

Duncan grimaced. Too bad he hadn’t checked
the screen before he’d connected the call. If he’d known it was his
demanding client, he wouldn’t have answered.

“
There’s nothing to report.
He takes pictures, he sleeps, he spends time with his girl. I
haven’t seen him do anything shady.”

“
There must be something.
Does he care for his daughter himself, or does he hire people to do
it?”

“
He does it himself. The
only time he’s not with her is when she’s at school or at
church.”

“
He’s going to
church?”

“
Twice a week, it
seems.”

“
What about female
companionship? He’s a healthy male, and I’m sure he’s begun keeping
company with someone by now.”

“
There’s a local girl I’ve
seen him with twice. She had coffee with him at the grocery store.
And she goes to that church he takes his daughter to.”

“
There must be more to it
than that. Keep a close watch. And don’t forget to contact me the
moment you find anything.”

“
Yes, ma’am.” He
disconnected before he could say anything that would get him fired.
Those rich women thought they owned the world and everyone was
their servant. He wondered if her husband knew what she was doing
with his money.

It would be interesting to find out. But for
now, he needed to keep the lady happy.

T
he sun shone
brightly into her
east-facing window, and Sophie didn’t need to turn on the bedside
lamp to write her to-do list. The first thing, as always, was to
work on her script. The one that would make her an in-demand
scriptwriter for a prime-time drama. Or comedy. She had the
outlines for some of each. She just needed to finish them to have
in her portfolio. Production companies didn’t buy scripts, she’d
learned, but if they liked things you had written they would hire
you to write scripts for their shows. All she had to do was finish
them.

Second on her list was to brainstorm ideas
for the Christmas play. She had her list of needs from the
Wednesday night rehearsal. Joanie had come up with some new ideas,
and she’d found some others in an Internet search.

She paused before writing the third item. It
had been weeks since she’d gotten some exercise. The weather
forecast for the day was bright clear skies. Maybe she could get
some cross-country skiing in. She could do that first thing, before
her sister made plans that included her. It was Saturday, so Dave
would be around if Joanie needed anything.