Christmas and Cleats

by Solly, Clare

  Against the back wall, the computer had been set up, so people could sit and search through the database scans. There was also a sign that said “Please let us know if you would like to volunteer to scan. Yearbooks from 1803-1879 still need to be scanned.”

  Dottie smiled. It was amazing what could be accomplished by asking for help. Rubbing her hand over the top of the computer screen she quietly praised everything surrounding this exhibit. The help. The technology. The art of the idea. Even Joe falling through the roof and finding the photos to begin with.

  Turning around to take it all in, she saw that they had flanked the doors off the Logan Room with the glass table cases from the library. A pair of white felt gloves sat on top of one of them. It was open and a stack of yearbooks were on the floor. In the case a few were laying open. Dottie walked over. Putting on the gloves she gently took each yearbook from the pile and gently turned the pages of each one until she found a page that made her smile. Selecting an open page where there were interesting pictures or some sort of community event, she placed every one of the remaining ones in the case before closing it. Stepping back, she looked around the whole room. With a sigh of contentment, she walked toward the door, but turned around for one last look before turning the lights out in the room.

  This was a simple joy she felt. Making an exhibit that showcased her community. Something that taught a different viewpoint to visitors. Her mother always said that if one person learned one new thing before they exited the doors for the day, they were doing their job. A history teacher Dottie had in college said, “History teaches us where we’ve been and points us to where we should be going.” Dottie hoped that was what she was doing. Running this museum might not have been what she dreamt of doing with her life, but she knew it made a difference in the community.

  She walked over to the library and set the gloves on her desk. She took out her phone and saw it was past eleven.

  It was time to go home, Dottie thought. She would handle everything else tomorrow. Laughing to herself, she realized she just quoted one of her favorite heroines, Scarlett O’Hara. If there was anyone who could get out of something like this, Scarlett could. Dottie tried to channel her all the way back to her apartment, and even picked up that book when she got home. Only a few pages in, Dottie fell asleep reading.

  ChapterTwenty-Five

  Joe confessed his feelings, and everything seemed to be falling into place. The museum started to get busy, and with the plans for her upcoming event and exhibits Dottie didn’t have much time to process her feelings completely. Or maybe she was trying to ignore the fact that he had a career in Los Angeles. However, every time someone mentioned Joe, or she thought of him, his smiling face invaded her thoughts and a blush burned her cheeks. How had she gone this long without realizing her feelings she continually thought to herself. Well, at least now she knew, and they were doing something about it. But the museum’s resurrection was taking her primary brain space.

  Robert had arranged for school groups to visit claiming they all needed to see the yearbook exhibit. Dottie got busy scheduling all of those to happen in December. But he called multiple times a day saying he had another group to add. The museum could only hold about 80 people at a time, so she could only take two classes every few hours. Robert had also put in calls to neighboring school districts, recommending they get in to view the new exhibits as well.

  “Dottie, I have another group for you to schedule,” he stated, for the fourth time this day.

  “That is great, Robert, but I don’t have any more room this year,” she said triumphantly. “But if you’d like I can start to schedule them for January?” She said the last with a question, not knowing the fate of the museum, but hoping this interest was enough to keep it open, at least for one month more.

  “Do what you have to do, Dottie. I’ll have meetings with the school board and with the museum board. We will make sure all of these kids get their groups in. We will also mention something to the parents. I’m trying to get all groups to have some sort of assignment they need to complete, so they will have to come back at least once more without the group.”

  “Robert, you’re despicable!” she chided with a laugh. “Please let them know when they return, I’ll give an extra dollar discount for students. Two if they bring someone else with them that isn’t a student!”

  “Now you’re thinking like a business woman, Dottie,” Robert said proudly.

  “We’re going to make it, aren’t we Robert?” she said quietly.

  “Dottie,” he said strongly, “you have done a phenomenal job and if it were up to me, I would make sure the East Haddam Historical Society stayed open for as long as you were around to run it.”

  Dottie smiled over the phone. “Thanks, Robert. It’s nice to know I have you on my side.”

  “You’re welcome, Dottie. I’m sure I’m not the only one you have on your side. This museum has reminded a lot of people about a sense of community they had forgotten. I think the ball will also help solidify that,” and just before he hung up, he added, “You have more friends then you thought you did.”

  Dottie smiled acknowledging that he was probably talking about himself, although once again Joe’s face smiling at her slid into her mind.

  It was nice that her love life actually felt like a love life. Dottie now realized that her relationship with Harold seemed more and more like two people just not wanting to be alone. She sighed feeling guilty every time she thought of Harold. She should have ended it so much sooner.

  Harold texted Dottie many, many times over the next few days. Each text getting more desperate or desolate. And then they just stopped. She told herself it was better this way. Just to let him go. Harold was a good guy in a big city. He would find someone more suited for him.

  Joe came over as promised and Dottie showed him the exhibits.

  “These are great, Dottie. They should bring people in,” Joe said.

  “We can hope,” she sighed.

  “Oh, here, take a picture of me,” Joe said, handing her his cell phone, then grabbing a yearbook and pretended he was looking at a page. He made sure to pick one that had East Haddam, bolded on the cover and that it was easy to read by the viewer. Dottie snapped the picture and smiled. Joe smiled back. As he took his phone back from her, he almost held her hand with as long as his fingers lingered.

  Dottie pulled back and shrugged away.

  “What is it, Dottie?” Joe asked with concern.

  “Joe, I—”

  “It’s Harold, isn’t it?” Joe cut her off.

  “No. Yes. Well, not in the way you think.” Dottie collected her thoughts. “He, well I, called it off.”

  “You’re no longer together?”

  “Nope,” she said and sighed.

  “Well that’s great,” Joe said walking over to her and setting his hands reassuringly on her shoulders and started to lean in to kiss her.

  She leaned back a little and looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Joe, I... I don’t think we should pursue this,” she motioned her hand back and forth between them and walked out of his embrace, “until you get everything settled on your end, and we figure everything else out.”

  Confusion was written all over Joe’s face. “What do you mean ‘this,’” he echoed her hand gesture.

  “I mean, I think we shouldn’t kiss and whatnot,” she blushed, “until you announce you’re not with Heather.” She turned away from him. “We’ve waited this long, I really think that the air should be clear, and things should be figured out. So, no kissing for now. Besides, you’re a big star and I’m not ready for media to be jumping down my throat, yet.”

  Chuckling, he said, “Well, I’m not that big of a star. Media tends to follow Heather much more than they follow me, but… I understand.” He sighed. “I agree, we need to let it all rest a little before we jump in to this. Plus, you need to get this place, and what you're doing with it, figured out.”

  “Right.” She turned back to him, “A
nd not to put the cart before the horse, you are still moving back to Los Angeles and selling your house, right?”

  “Well, if I can… there doesn’t seem to be too much market for it at the moment. I can’t seem to get anyone out to look at it.”

  “Wait…. Maybe. Well, it could work,” she mumbled to herself.

  “What?” he asked.

  Dottie turned to Joe. “You said your dad had those horseshoe pits in the barn, right?”

  “Yeah…”

  “Well, what would be a good way to raise money for the museum, and show off your property at the same time?” Dottie’s excitement rose. Not waiting for him to answer, she replied, “Having a celebrity horseshoe tournament to celebrate the opening of the new exhibit! We could have an open house, and we could have the tournament, with a big cash prize. Maybe we could even charge people something small, like, I don't’ know, five bucks to tour your house? Proceeds going to the museum, of course.”

  “But what about the ball?” he remarked.

  “That could still happen. They could even both be on the same day. Hey, maybe you could get Heather to come to that? Oooh, you could come together and maybe it would get in the papers for a bit. We could, with her permission, of course, start a rumor that you two were thinking about getting married here!”

  Joe shook his head, “No.”

  “No?” Dottie stopped in her tracks. “But why, I—”

  “Not about the wedding and Heather. I’ll ask her, and I’m sure she will do me the favor.” He walked over to her and cupped her cheek with his hand. “I mean, no, I have waited too long to kiss you, and I’m going to wait longer,” he said and kissed her. It was a light gentle kiss.

  Dottie sighed. “Joe. I really want to kiss you too, but to the world you’re an engaged man. You said yourself you didn’t want to distract anyone who might have control over your contract to make a decision based on media images,” she reasoned. “Plus, I don’t want to come off as a homewrecker. I can’t do that to my parents.”

  “True,” he sighed and removed his hand from her face. “Ok. I guess I can wait a few more days. Let’s get these plans in motion.” He pulled out his phone and scrolled through numbers. Finding the one he was looking for he tapped it to connect. “Hey, Heather, what would you say about getting married at Dottie’s museum?”

  * * *

  Four days later, it was viral that Joe and Heather were hiding away in Connecticut making plans to get married at the East Haddam Historical Society.

  The day after, when Dottie arrived at the museum, there was a line to get in. It was early on a Saturday, and she was so excited to have all of the visitors. Many whom she recognized from the town. Most were hoping to catch a glimpse of Joe Thomas, or even discuss the exhibits with him while they walked around the museum. Joe didn’t show up that day.

  However, Joe visited the museum the next day, true to his word. Even though it was a Sunday morning, there was again a line when Dottie showed up. She had texted Joe on her way to the museum to tell him about the line the day before. He agreed to visit. Joe showed up around noon. Swarmed by excited visitors, he got stopped right inside the entryway at the front door and no one could get in or out. There was such a clamoring for his attention, no one actually saw the museum. In fact, twenty minutes after Joe arrived, the parking lot was packed. It was as if everyone within a fifteen-mile radius showed up to see him. Joe had gotten to understand the power of social media from Heather and was asking everyone he took a picture with to post it and tag the museum in the photo using hashtag Save The Museum. After about ninety minutes of photos, Joe excused himself and made an announcement he would be back.

  “Check the website for the East Haddam Historical Society in the next twenty-four hours to get updates on Joe’s next appearance,” Dottie told the fanatic group.

  That evening Joe and Dottie planned two other visits for him that Dottie just announced on the museum’s website and Facebook page. Joe was set up in the library to sign autographs. This would allow congestion to be on the second floor and would allow people to still enter and exit the museum easily without congestion. Dottie had to schedule more volunteers for those days to make sure she could manage all of the visitors. Joe was to be at the museum Tuesday and Wednesday. There was a sign-up link on the website for assigned autograph times. People were given a time window and were encouraged to arrive early. They somehow managed to get over three hundred people through the museum on these days. This was good for business.

  While he signed memorabilia provided by the guests Joe suggested that they view the other exhibits. He would encourage everyone to find old photos of him as he started his career on the local team. And he also promoted the beauty pageant exhibit.

  “Hetty was one of my best friend’s growing up. She was famous before I was,” he would tell people. Dottie would chuckle to herself every time she heard it. Once he caught her and smiled. It was nice to have a private joke with Joe again, she thought to herself as a warm tingly feeling filled her inside and a smile crossed her face.

  The museum stayed open two extra hours both days to allow all the visitors in. Amazingly, people would stop in to snap a picture with Joe or get an autograph and then they stayed to meander the museum. People would get their autographs, and then would be caught up in the exhibits. It warmed Dottie’s heart to see both the Baker Room with the Hetty’s exhibit and the Logan Room with the Yearbook exhibit were both packed at closing time. She kept the museum open an extra couple of hours after Joe left just to let people browse. Dottie was also thrilled that she had finished both exhibits finished just in time for the rush. This was the reason she stayed. People coming to learn or be inspired by the local community.

  She was so glad that she had built the exhibits even though the museum was set to close. However, with such interest, closing was hopefully being postponed indefinitely.

  Although originally Dottie and the board were wary about the ball attracting attention and raising enough money, they had a waiting list. She was saying yes to everyone at first, but then tallied the incoming reservations. Currently this list was way past one hundred people who wanted to attend. Dottie was also figuring out logistics of the whole thing. Would they need room for tables for food? How large would the bandstand need to be? These questions and more were filling her time and was keeping her from letting the whole town attend.

  As of this morning Dottie had over sixty paid bookings for the Christmas ball the following week. This meant she had enough money for the roof. She sashayed into Frankincense and Myrrh hardware with a check. Dottie had never been more delighted to pay for a repair for the museum. When she walked up to the counter, Murray was in his normal spot sitting on a stool behind the counter working on today’s crossword puzzle in the newspaper.

  She said hello and handed him a check stating she was paying for the roof.

  “It’s already paid for,” Murray stated.

  “What do you mean, it’s paid for,” Dottie questioned. A shocked look crossed her face.

  “I mean its paid for.”

  “But I… I don’t understand. How is it already paid for?” Dottie puzzled.

  Murray looked at her. “I don’t know how else to say it,” he pondered. Murray always seemed to think deeply about the strangest things. “Someone else already gave us the money for your roof.”

  “Who?” Dottie blurted.

  “Can’t say,” Murray said grabbing his crossword and looking at nine down.

  “Come on Murray. Everyone knows you can’t keep a secret,” Dottie poked.

  “Apparently so does your donor,” Murray was being cryptic. Dottie wasn’t sure if it was on purpose or not.

  “What? I don’t understand. Why do you say that?”

  Murray looked over the rims of his glasses at her, “They left the money, cash, in an envelope. It was behind the counter sitting on this shelf,” he pointed down in front of him.

  Leaning over the counter as if she didn’t believe him tha
t there was a shelf there, or maybe looking to see if the money was still there. Dottie just couldn’t wrap her head around it.

  “I…” she was still stunned with disbelief. “And no one saw them,” she looked around the store up around the ceiling.

  “No use in looking, we don’t have cameras. So, there would be no way to know who left the money. I’m rarely away from this stool, unless Frank isn’t here,” Murray offered.

  “How… Why… But…”

  “Yup, Frank and I said that exact thing,” he confessed. “There was no note or anything, I’m sure you’re going to ask that next. Just “Dottie’s Roof” was printed by a computer on the outside of the envelope that was sealed and had more than enough for the roof. In fact, there is some left over, in case you have other repairs,” he reported. “The museum has a credit of about three hundred dollars here, so let us know when you need something, and we’ll deduct.”

  Shaking her head and standing wide eyed, Dottie was still overcome with disbelief. Who could have done this? Someone who knew Murray and Frank well enough to know that they gossiped to everyone about everything. And it had to be someone who knew that the museum needed a new roof. There were so many people it could have been, but few who had that amount of cash.

  “No sense in trying to figure it out,” Murray said as if he had been reading her mind. “Frank and I tried to poke around and see if we could suss out the answer the last few days.” He leaned toward her conspiratorially, “Frank likes to think himself an amateur detective. But even with his wily ways, we determined that it’s not Joe, any member of the school board, Hetty or Don, and I’m assuming by your befuddlement that it’s not you either,” Murray was eying her as if to double check that she didn’t leave the money.

  “Well, then… I guess I need to get decorations for the Christmas ball while I’m here, instead.” Dottie was mystified. Who could the mysterious donor be? Puzzled about the money, she turned and walked into Joe’s chest.