How Nick and Holly Wrecked...Saved Christmas Read Free

words were trying to escape from his mouth.
    “What?”
    “I mean you look good. Your nose.”
    “Thanks. It feels better with the tape off. I tried dusting some powder around my black eyes and adding some make-up, but I don’t think it helped. I look like a seriously deranged raccoon who knows how to use lip gloss.”
    He laughs. “No. It’s not—”
    His words are cut off when a short—like real short—woman slaps him on the back. A few pieces of popcorn bounce out of the bags.
    “Nick! Glad you could make today’s movie.”
    From the polo shirt with the complex’s name on it to the ID badge and coiled key ring bracelet at her wrist, I know this is the great activity director I’ve heard so much about. And I have to say it. She has a man’s haircut. I’m not saying it looks bad or anything, but if she’s trying to look like a female Ryan Seacrest, she’s pretty much nailed it.
    “You must be Holly.” She extends her hand. “I’m Tanya Bates, the activity director here.”
    I put the cups back down. “Nice to meet you, Tanya.”
    She motions over her shoulder. “I’ve been visiting with your grandmother and Nick’s Aunt Ivy. I understand you’re a very talented vocalist.”
    I look their way. Granny and the assumed Aunt Ivy are cozied up in a cluster of chairs around a small table not too far from the big screen. Granny waves and, like a dork, I wave back before I remember how embarrassed I am.
    “Thank you, but no, I’m not that big a deal.”
    “I hope you’ll consider participating with us this week. Tomorrow is Christmas karaoke. We’d love to hear you sing.”
    Wow. Just wow .
    Nick is no help at all as he looks at the ceiling as though he doesn’t hear.
    Tanya returns her attention to him. “We’re on for tomorrow morning?”
    “Sure. I’ll be there.”
    “Great. We have karaoke tomorrow night and the dance is the day after. We can also talk about setting up the room for the interfaith Christmas Eve candlelight service. Father Jonathan and Pastor Allen are going to let me know what they need.”
    “Sure thing.”
    “And Holly. Glad to have you. I hope you’ll consider performing for us. A lot of our older residents don’t get out much in the winter. They have an understandable aversion to the snow and ice on the roads. They would consider it an honor and a real treat to hear you sing.”
    “If the nose permits,” I say with a smile and point to my face like it’s not obvious what I mean. “It’s much better, but I still sound like I’m stopped up.”
    Tanya pats me on the arm. “We appreciate the effort,” she says and moves on.
    Nick tries to maneuver a piece of popcorn into his mouth. “You’re going to sing?”
    I pick up the cups again and head for Granny. “I will try. Why are you so surprised?”
    “For starters, you haven’t seemed like you’re in a Christmas carol singing mood.”
    “Well, first of all I love to sing. There’s always stage fright and nerves, but I try not to miss an opportunity. I have to practice and you never know what will look good on a college application. I can’t get off this mountain if I don’t get into a good music school.”
    “You know what would really look good on a college application? If you came here every week and led the sing-a-long. Colleges love that community service cred. They talked all about it at our last class meeting. What’s the second thing?”
    I pause and turn to look up at him. I’m not ashamed of my faith, nor do I hide my relationship with Christ. I don’t, however, Bible-thump in the halls of Black Diamond High. I’ve already committed enough social suicide simply by being a choir nerd. But I have to ask myself: Do I care what Nick Zernigan will think of me when he hears I’m a Jesus freak? Not really. Especially since the highlight of my Christmas vacation will not be a party or a date, but rather a senior citizen Christmas dance—where I will probably bust a move with my granny. Or some old