“I’ve asked one of the staff to stand beside the back door,” Claire said as she added Christmas crackers to a table. “If anyone tries to sneak in, they’ll have to go to the back of the line and wait until everyone is seated.”
“You’re so cruel.”
“It’s better than having to calm sixty retirees down.”
Hannah grabbed a handful of crackers out of Claire’s box. “It made the Christmas party memorable. Mr. Winthrop said he hadn’t had so much fun in years.”
“I hope he sticks with the rules today. I’d hate to send him to the back of the line.”
“He won’t mind. He’ll enjoy being the center of attention.” Mr. Winthrop was a sprightly eighty-seven years young. He had a wicked sense of humor and a cheeky grin—qualities that usually landed him in a lot of trouble. When she’d worked at the village, Mr. Winthrop had been one of Hannah’s favorite residents.
She placed the last cracker on a table and headed toward the kitchen. She smiled as she lifted the first tiered plate off the counter. Three levels of cakes, cookies, and sugared treats would keep the sweetest tooth happy.
Hannah re-read the instructions their caterer had left on the counter. The small pies and savories had to stay in the oven until the main doors opened. Other staff would refill the juice and water, then serve hot coffee and chocolate before the choirs arrived.
She carried the cakes into the recreation room. Even though she couldn’t stop yawning, she knew the residents would enjoy themselves.
***
Brett lifted Ida McConachie out of his truck and into her wheelchair. With fresh snow coating everything in sight, the retirement village wasn’t the easiest place to navigate around, especially if you didn’t have a vehicle.
With Pat, Ida’s husband, walking beside him, he headed toward the recreation center. Ida had been a resident of Brentwood for two years. A sudden and unexpected stroke had left her unable to care for herself. At first, the doctors had been optimistic that she would regain some of her movement and speech. But as the days had dragged into months, there hadn’t been much improvement. Pat had tried looking after Ida at home, but it had been too difficult. Instead, he drove into town three times a week to spend time with her.
“Do you remember the first Christmas Brett had with us, Ida?”
Ida slowly nodded. She couldn’t talk, but she knew what was going on around her.
“He wasn’t much younger than our Stevie,” Pat added. “He was such a lost soul, but look at him now. Thirty-eight years old and still happy to spend Christmas with us.”
Brett forced a smile onto his face. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He loved Pat and Ida as if they were his own parents. They’d given him a home and seen something special in him that even he didn’t know was there.
Brett slowed as an electric scooter whizzed past them. “Someone’s in a hurry.”
“It’s because of the carol competition,” Pat said as he took a few deep breaths. “No one wants to be at the back of the room.”
“Or miss the bribes coming their way,” Brett added. Each year, the battle of the Christmas choirs was held in the retirement village. Up to ten groups competed against each other, all vying for the gold trophy. Bribery and corruption were rife. Gingerbread, Christmas cake, and chocolate featured high on the giveaways each choir presented to their audience.
Pat buried his hands in his jacket pockets. “There’s a rumor going around that the Groovy Grans have made a special batch of apple shortcake this year.”
It was no wonder everyone was racing to get the best seats. Brett remembered their shortcake from last year, and it was good. “We’d better move a little faster, then. We don’t want you missing out on their shortcake, Ida.”
Ida nodded and Brett patted her shoulder. As sad as it was to see her like this, she was still with them. And for that, he was incredibly grateful.
***
Hannah rushed into the kitchen. “I thought the weather might make the residents stay at home.”
Claire slid more mini fruit pies onto a plate. “Nothing would keep the residents away. How are the servers doing?”
“They’re fine.” She picked up the pies and took a hot coffeepot off the counter. “The first choir is getting ready to perform. So far, everyone’s happy.”
“Thank goodness for that. I’ll be out soon with more coffee.”
Hannah pushed open the kitchen door with her shoulder. She smiled as she refilled coffee cups and joined in the residents’ light-hearted banter. For some of the people here, meeting their friends at meal times and during social events was the only time they talked to anyone. Hannah wanted to make sure their memories of today made them happy.
Someone tapped her on the arm. “I’d love a refill of coffee if you have some to spare.”
Hannah turned around and grinned. “Pat! It’s wonderful to see you.” She left the coffeepot on a table and hugged her friend. “I haven’t seen you in ages. Are you here with Ida?”
