Christmas and Cleats

by Solly, Clare

  “No. Nope you didn’t really talk about living in a big city until Harold. I remember you and Joe wanting to see places. You would talk about The Taj Mahal and The Leaning Tower of Pisa. I know you wanted to see all of the big cities in America… but I don’t think you were on the bandwagon to live the big city life until you got older.”

  “Huh.” Dottie said, leaning her head on her hands on the counter.

  “Now, that’s not to say it wasn’t a grownup fancy of yours. But, look at you,” Hetty said pointing to Dottie in her clogs, comfy jeans and her shirt with “Future Mrs. Darcy” printed on it. “You were always getting adventure in books and that museum. You’ve always balked at coming with me on my pageant trips—”

  “No, I haven’t! I’ve gone with you several—”

  Hetty cut her best friend off. “I didn’t say you didn’t go. I said you balked. In other words, you hesitated to go to a big city for a week.” Hetty continued as she came around the counter and sat on a stool next to Dottie. “And think about college.”

  “I left town for college!’ Dottie rebutted.

  “Yeah, but you went to Yale for a very specific History degree,” Hetty said like it needed no further explanation.

  “Which is a very prestigious school!” Dottie said in wounded protest.

  “New Haven is a sleepy college town. AND history is not one of the sexier majors that leads into a career where you have to be outgoing and social,” Hetty added.

  “Well, I…”

  “Listen, honey. We all have dreams. When we are kids, our dreams are big and grand. As we get older, they take more shape, or become redefined. Sometimes the dreams we have as kids fade away entirely as we realize other things like family and security become more important or easier to obtain. As adults we figure out ways to adapt the original dreams into our lives,” she motioned to the walls of the diner. “It doesn’t mean that the dream loses value. It is still a part of us, no matter what.” Hetty looked around the diner. “When I was seven, I wanted to be a princess or a queen and rule a kingdom; to be worshiped and admired by all in the land.” She sighed. “And now? I have twenty crowns to my name and have lines out the door to visit my place. Is it the exact same dream? No. But did I get what I wished for?” Hetty looked around again, a tear coming to her eye and a smile filled her face. “Yeah,” she said almost breathlessly. “Yeah, I did.”

  Reaching across the tiny divide, Dottie wrapped her arms around a woman who knew her better than she knew herself and hugged her.

  The bell rang from the kitchen and the cook shouted, “Order up!” Making them both sit back, and Hetty wiped her tears on the bottom of her apron.

  “I’ll get this one, Hetty. You sit for a moment.”

  Grabbing the plates from the small window, and checking the ticket for the table number, she walked over to the guests at one of the repurposed wooden tables.

  “Hello, Aaron. Kitty,” Dottie greeted the firefighter who was up on her roof and his daughter. “Now let me guess… Kitty you got the eggs over easy with sausage and rye toast.”

  “No!” the eight-year-old girl said in a delighted wail. “I got the chocolate chip pancakes!”

  “Oh!” Dottie said. “It’s a good thing I asked.” she said giving Kitty a wink. “Here you go, guys. Aaron, do you need a warm up on that coffee?”

  “No. Thank you though.” Aaron said smiling up at her.

  As Kitty dug into her pancakes, Dottie continued. “Thanks again for cutting Joe out of the roof.”

  “Just in a day’s work,” Aaron said giving a bit of a nod. “Besides, how many people can have the bragging rights that they cut a famous person out of a roof?”

  “You and probably half of Los Angeles!’

  They both laughed.

  “Holler if you need anything,” Dottie said looking first at Aaron then at the chocolate faced Kitty who was making a complete mess of her face and her plate.”

  “Will do, Dottie. Oh, and hey,” Aaron had reached across and started cutting up smaller bites for Kitty, “Sorry about the museum closing.”

  “The museum is closing?” Kitty wailed again, this time she was not pleased. Her saucer eyes started to tear up as she looked back and forth between Aaron and Dottie. “But, but, but… if it closes, we won’t get to take the field trip. Everyone knows that the bestest part of third grade is going to the museum in spring!” Kitty protested.

  Kneeling down so she was eye level with Kitty, Dottie said, “Yeah, I’m sad too. I remember taking that trip when I was your age. But I’ll tell you what,” she looked conspiratorially at Aaron then back at his daughter, “Your daddy helped me this week, so why don’t you two have your own trip over to the museum in a week, and I’ll give you a sneak peek at the princess exhibit.”

  “You’re going to have real princesses?” Kitty asked excitedly, her emotions switching as fast as the weather on the Connecticut River.

  “Well,” Dottie lowered her voice almost to a whisper, even though none of the surrounding tables were full, “We’re going to highlight Hetty. She’s a real live queen, you know!”

  “Woah!” Kitty and Aaron both said together, Aaron being the wonderful parent and playing along.

  “How do you think this diner got its name?” Dottie lowered her voice, “But you can’t tell, anyone. Pinky swear.” Dottie held her pinky out to the little girl.

  Kitty linked pinkies then looked at her father, “You too, Daddy,” she said sternly. Aaron laughed and wrapped his pinky around Kitty and Dottie’s.

  “I swear,” he said.

  They solemnly shook to seal the promise. Standing up, Dottie said, “Ok, I’ll see you soon,”

  “Ok,” Kitty whispered loudly and tried to wink making both Dottie and Aaron laugh before she went back to massacring her pancakes.

  “You are so good with kids,” Hetty said.

  “I only wish I was as good with adults,” Dottie replied sitting back down on the stool and putting her hands on her face. Muffled, she said, “How am I going to talk Joe Thomas, who is obviously hiding out, to just ‘pop up’ on social media at my museum? It’s hopeless.” Dottie put her head down on the counter.

  Stroking Dottie’s hair, Hetty said, “Well, have you tried just asking him?”

  “Oh sure,” Dottie snapped her head up, “Hey, Joe! Sorry you fell through my roof! Could you do me a favor of putting out to the masses that you frequently visit our small museum so it can increase foot traffic, because people will hope for a chance sighting of you?”

  “Well… when you put it that way…” Hetty shrugged her shoulders. Dottie put her head back down on the counter making a loud grunting sigh on her way back down.

  “What if you made him some food? Maybe more cookies?” Hetty suggested.

  Dottie gave a muffled response from her head buried in her arms on the counter, “No carbs in the off season, remember? And I already made him chili… and you bring him food all the time.”

  “Ok. Well. What else does he need? Could you help him clean up his place?”

  “Hetty!” Dottie petulantly raised her head with her brow knitted, “I have two exhibits to set up, one which needs a lot of research, and a ball to plan! I will barely have time to sleep in the next ten days, let alone any free time to help Joe fix his house!” She threw her arms up in the air.

  “Right. Well… what about something festive. A wreath?” Dottie snapped her head around only to see Hetty was grinning from ear to ear. It was a joke.

  “Wait,” Dottie said after a moment. “What could I do to spruce up his house? What doesn’t he have that everyone needs this time of year?” Dottie’s voice grew with excitement. “What am I going to get this afternoon for myself and the museum?!?”

  They hollered together, “A Tree!” They both jumped up and hugged.

  “Wait. Why are we hugging?” Hetty asked. “It’s not like we cured a disease or solved world hunger.”

  “Yet.” Dottie replied. “See you later,” she replied full
of hope. She grabbed her keys and bounded out of the diner.

  “Go, get ‘em kid.” Hetty said. Then she mumbled to no one as she walked back behind the counter, “It’s good to see she got her gumption back.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Taking a deep breath and attempting to discard her nerves in an exhale, Dottie wrapped on the front door. “Joe!” she called and knocked harder. She heard nothing, but lights on and his truck in the driveway made it obvious he was home. Maybe he was upstairs or had music playing or something and couldn’t hear her. Taking another deep breath to steady her courage, Dottie walked in and hollered again, “Joe! It’s Dot! Are you home?”

  Dottie heard footsteps above her and then on the stairs. His staircase went straight up twelve stairs and hit a landing before turning and four stairs went up to the right to connect with the second floor. She knew it well. They used to taboggan down these very stairs, using towels to allow smoother sliding.

  Standing above her on the landing was a dripping Joe Thomas clad in a towel.

  “Everything ok?” he asked, looking concerned.

  Dottie blushed and looked quickly away covering her eyes with her hand. “Don’t you have any modesty?”

  “No. No, I don’t. I’m in a locker room with teammates, coaches, reporters and who knows what else,” he replied. She could hear the grin in his voice when he continued, “and I look pretty good in a towel. Besides, you’re the one walking into my house.”

  Dottie laughed. “I’m… sure.” She cleared her throat. “I… I can come back if this isn’t a good time.”

  “What’s up?” he said trying to sound breezy, and not overly excited that Dottie was near him again. His happy tone quickly turned to concern. He asked, “nothing wrong at the museum, I hope? Not the roof again?”

  “No! No,” she said making the mistake and looking up at him again. Wow he was muscular. Diverting her gaze, she explained, “Frank and Myrrh said you were trying to get the place ready to sell,” she looked around to see all of the hard work he had put in. The walls were freshly painted. Sparse furniture arrangement confirmed her observation. “They said you didn’t have a Christmas tree, and I thought—”

  “Oh, I won’t be here for Christmas,” Joe said a little too quickly and mentally scolded himself for being so sharp about it.

  “Oh?” she said downtrodden. “Well,” she sighed, then added with a persuasive tone, “I thought it might help prospective buyers get into the spirit, and so I bought an extra one for you, but I can—” she started to walk out the door.

  “No!” Joe hollered and ran down half of the staircase. “I mean. If you bought it,” he shrugged, “we might as well put it up.”

  “Great! I brought some colored lights and some tinsel for you—”

  “I actually just found the boxes of my mom’s decorations—” they spoke at the same time, and then laughed at cutting each other off.

  Joe rubbed his neck and looked down at his bare toes.

  “Why don’t you… um… the boxes are actually in the living room if you want to start looking through. I’ll go get dressed and then help you get the tree in here.”

  “Great,” she said making a thumbs up sign and then feeling like an idiot.

  Joe ran up the stairs. Dottie tried not to look at him, but she did. Then blushed. Unzipping her puffer vest and taking off her gloves, she walked into the living room and turned on the light. The giant front window was perfect a tree. People would be welcomed by it not only as they walked up the front walkway, but as they came down the driveway as well.

  There were three boxes, and Dottie carefully opened the first. A collection of boxes and wrapped objects inhabited it. Gently picking up an object carefully wrapped in leftover red and white Santa paper, Dottie pulled back the edges of the crumpled paper to reveal a handmade snowflake of popsicle sticks covered with glitter. It had a light blue loop of tattered yarn at the top. It had a light blue loop of tattered yarn at the top. She remembered making a similar one in Mrs. Misse’s first grade class.

  Echoes of that day floated into her mind. Joe asked to borrow her scissors. She had loaned them to Hetty after promising them to him. Not one to go back on her word, Dottie mustered courage and walked up to the teacher to ask for the coveted adult pair for Joe to use. She smiled at her own gumption. If only she had retained more of it as she got older. She audibly sighed.

  Unwrapping a few more, reminders of past holidays flitted through her mind. Opening up a brown square box, Dottie gasped. It was a snowman holding a baseball bat, ready to swing.

  “You gave me that one,” Joe said from behind her.

  Turning toward him, Dottie held up the ornament and smiled. “It was the third or fourth year you played baseball. You kept changing positions that year, and every year you changed numbers,” she turned back and set the ornament down next to the rest pulling out another box. Joe had joined her and was looking at the ones she had laid out.

  “Where did this one come from?” Dottie asked holding up what looked like an unhappy brown hippo made out of cotton balls and paper with googly eyes.

  He reached for it and smiled, “A Winter Festival when I was five. We hadn’t moved here yet, and I was with my cousins. Our parents made us do them, even though I was making a giant protest about crafts. We sat down to make these, and I didn’t want to. I was told if I made an ornament, I could play catch with the big kids. I glued the parts on so fast, and then ran off to play. It was always one of my mom’s favorites,” he chuckled and got lost in his memory.

  “Baseball even pulled you away then,” Dottie teased.

  Feeling Dottie’s eyes on him, Joe looked up. Clearing his throat, he set down the fluffy ornament, and said, “Well, should we go get that tree?”

  “Sure,” Dottie said, seeing a side of Joe that she hadn’t in a very long time. She missed that softer side of Joe. She grabbed her discarded vest that she had taken off while she was unwrapping ornaments. They walked outside together. Large fluffy flakes of snow cascaded from the sky and sat on their clothing for a moment reminding that each flake was an individual miracle. The falling snow dampened the sound outside, so it was comfortingly quiet on the driveway.

  “I didn’t know it was snowing, "Joe said, looking up.

  “Must have just started,” Dottie stated, “It wasn’t snowing when I… uh,” Dottie blushed remembering.

  “Walked in on me in a towel?” Joe suggested.

  “Well… yes,” she said walking to the car and clicking the unlock button.

  “Dottie, it’s really ok. I’m used to it,” Joe shrugged as he opened the rear passenger side door and started to test the rope.

  “You might be, but I’m not,” Dottie said. “You might live in a big city and be in a locker room all of the time with lots of… other players,” she gulped as she quickly pushed that thought out of her brain. “But I am not used to men walking around less than clothed in…” She looked over at him. Joe was ducking trying to stifle a laugh. “Never mind.” Then trying to change the subject, “They’re tied on to the top. There are two trees. The other I’m taking up to the museum to put in the ballroom after this.”

  “Great,” he said pulling a pocket knife out of his jeans and starting to cut the knots. “So,” he said with guile, “Harold doesn’t walk around much in a towel?” A sly grin spread across his face.

  “No, he… we… No.” Dottie shook her head. She said a lot without saying or revealing anything. Now wasn’t the time to question her relationship with Harold, she thought to herself. Nor did she want to talk about relationships in general with Joe. Especially when she was here on a mission to save the museum. “I hope you like the tree,” she diverted the conversation.

  “I’m sure,” he said cutting through the last knot, “I’m sure I’ll like standing next to it, once it’s all decorated. Standing in my towel,” he said coming around the car making eye contact. He always loved teasing her. Hiding her embarrassment with a chuckle, she backhanded him o
n the shoulder. “Stop it! I haven’t blushed like this in…” she looked at Joe. He was looking at her with a goofy grin. “What?”

  Shaking his head and rubbing the back of his neck, “Nothing,” he said and looked at her again. He then looked up to the sky. “Seems like the snow is coming down harder, we should get this inside, so you can get the other one up to the museum.”

  “Right,” Dottie grabbed the top of the tree from the front of the car. Joe grabbed the back and they carried it up to the house.

  “Let’s stop here for a moment,” Joe said as he set down the tree. “We can tie the other one onto your car and then take this one in.”

  “Oh,” Dottie said, “I’m just going next door. We don’t have to secure it too well.”

  “Well, I—” Joe protested.

  “Joe, I don’t drive like a maniac. Let’s just loop the rope around the base of the tree and through the doors.”

  “I don’t know—” he questioned.

  Walking over to the car, Dottie started to do just as she suggested, “It will be fiiine. You worry too much,” she threw over her shoulder at him.

  Sighing Joe walked to the car and helped Dottie tie up the tree. When they were done, they carried the tree to the front room.

  They started with the lights but didn’t get far as they both had a different technique. Hers circled the tree from the base, while his was more of a vertical striping technique.

  “You can’t do it that way,” Dottie laughed.

  “Who made you the lighting police?” Joe asked.

  “It’s just that you should go around and around to echo the tinsel,” she demonstrated making circles with her finger that pointed down to the floor.

  “Echo the tinsel? Who says that,” Joe asked?

  “It’s a technical term,” Dottie smartly retorted. “It’s faster too. You stand on that side,” she pointed where Joe should stand, and I’ll hand you the lights and we can get them up easier.”

  Just like she suggested, Dottie and Joe passed the lights back and forth and they quickly wrapped the tree twice with lights. Then together they wrapped the tree in silver tinsel. Together they hung all of the individual ornaments. Decorating the tree took longer than Dottie expected it to, but she was having so much fun she didn’t mind.