Mr. 365

by Clampett, Ruth

  “Saunders,” Will says.

  “What?” asks Paul, barely restraining an eye roll.

  “Saunders, my last name is Saunders.”

  “Right. Well, you get the idea. Let’s start over.”

  “Action!” Lindsey shouts.

  Paul swings the door open. “Hi, I’m Will Saunders and welcome to my magical Christmas wonderland!” He steps back and does a dramatic arm sweep, then waits several beats, pretending to watch the imaginary cameraman entering the house.

  “Cut!” Lindsey yells to end the scene.

  “Magical Christmas wonderland?” Will’s face twists in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding. That’s so corny.”

  Will looks over, and I cringe a little.

  “Is he always this literal?” Lindsey whispers.

  “Corny? Corny?” Paul asks, the edges of his ears turning red. “We’re talking about a house full of Christmas decorations, are we not?”

  “Paul,” I say with a warning tone.

  “Where’s his shirt, Sophia? I thought we had an understanding.”

  “He’s not wearing the shirt, Paul,” I say firmly.

  Will folds his arms over his chest and shakes his head.

  Paul presses his lips together and glares. “We’ll discuss this later,” he says to me in a low voice.

  He motions to Will. “We need to get going. Come on, you do this now.”

  Will reluctantly steps inside the door and closes it.

  “Action!”

  He opens the door and stares straight ahead at a tree in the front yard then starts speaking in a monotone voice. “Hi, I’m Will Saunders and welcome to my home.” His movements are robotic as he pulls the door open further and counts to four before looking back at the threesome.

  “Cut,” Lindsey says with a weak voice.

  “Sorry, Will. No can do. We need more energy or it will fall completely flat on camera. Flat as a dead fish,” Paul says.

  “I’m flat as a dead fish?” Will says, amused at the idea of it.

  “No, no.” I jump in. “He just means to use a little more energy so it appears like you actually want us to come in.”

  “And how about sticking to the script while you’re at it,” Paul adds.

  “We throw that word around, but I’m not saying magical on camera. That’s misleading. There’s no actual magic,” says Will.

  “You’re right, Lindsey,” Paul says, turning toward her. “He’s not Mr. Christmas, he’s Mr. Literal. We’ve got him on the wrong show.”

  “Paul,” I say, sounding more threatening this time.

  “Okay, take out magical, but say the rest as I wrote it.”

  I step close to Will. “Is it really a big deal to say it’s a Christmas wonderland? It is, you know?” I smile, hoping he’ll cooperate.

  He thinks about it for a moment. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

  “Thanks.” I turn back to Lindsey and Paul and nod. Aaron steps outside with his camera and sets up for the sequence.

  Three takes later, Paul decides to move on since Will was at least smiling on the third attempt.

  We break for lunch and as soon as the union’s allotted time is over, everyone jumps back into the shoot. The first scene of the afternoon is shot in the foyer with Will explaining the massive kid’s tree laden with vintage character and toy ornaments.

  Paul doesn’t even have to direct Will for this sequence because when he asks questions on camera, Will gets energized talking about the kids and their reaction to the tree and their experience of visiting the house.

  When Aaron takes a minute to adjust the camera, I overhear Paul say to Lindsey, “Thank God. Mr. Christmas actually has a personality.”

  As the camera rolls, I smile as I listen. For a moment it occurs to me that I’m getting a peek into Will’s heart, a flash of something fundamental to his makeup. Perhaps his Christmas house allows him to relive his childhood the way he wished it had been.

  One thing is for sure. His past holds many answers to his personality, his strength, and his carefully constructed shield of defense. Hopefully I will have enough pieces of his puzzle to link together and give me insight to all the mysteries that define him. Maybe that will set my concerns about his eccentricities at rest.

  They do a second take for a safety backup, but we really don’t need it. Will was electric and engaging the first time.

  I approach him when the set breaks and rest my hand on his arm. “That was great, Will,” I say, giving him a big smile.

  “You think so?” he asks, his eyes wide.

  “I do. Your enthusiasm was palpable. It made me wish I was a kid touring this house at Christmas.”

  “It’s weird. Easy—maybe because I was talking about the kids.”

  “Well, whatever it was, it really worked.”

  “I know they edit it down to sound bites, but hopefully they’ll leave enough for people to understand what this means to the kids that visit.”

  “We will.” I assure him.

  Will’s visibly less wound up when we head to the living room for the next scene.

  Even Paul looks more optimistic as they start the next setup. “So, Will,” he says. “This room is amazing… truly a winter wonderland. Can you tell us how you made the transition from a guy who likes decorating for the holidays, to someone intent on taking Christmas theming to a whole new level… because that’s what you’ve done here.”

  “Thanks, but I can’t take all the credit. My grandparents had a passion for Christmas and really started this tradition of decorating. They bought this house in nineteen fifty-five, and every year they made their holidays bigger and bigger. I inherited that passion from them.”

  “So it’s in the genes,” Paul says, smiling.

  “Yeah, it is. But naturally during their time, the décor and theming was a lot more basic. My grandmother was a crafter and made a lot of the decorations. Now as every year passes, stuff gets more elaborate with lots of new ideas.”

  “So true!” adds Paul enthusiastically. “Look at the snowing effect you have projected on the ceiling and walls. That’s amazing.”

  “Thank you. But a lot of credit goes to my studio friends I work with. Some are special effects experts, and they’ve devoted many hours to taking this house to an entirely different level of technology and spectacle.”

  “There’s a lot of female touches too. Who do you credit that for?”

  “Some of my past girlfriends contributed too. Everyone who gets close to me somehow touches this project.”

  “How great. You have to tell me, Will. You’re single and good-looking. How do girls react when you bring them home and see what you’ve created here?”

  “They seem to like it,” he answers modestly but with a smile.

  Lindsey chuckles and elbows me. “Wow, look at him go,” she whispers.

  “Yeah, he’s downright chatty,” I whisper back, unsettled.

  Paul rubs his hands together with delight. “See folks, he doesn’t kiss and tell, but we know the truth.” He speaks directly to the camera. “Now we know Will’s real motivation with all this… this place is a chick magnet! Am I right?”

  Will looks shifts from one foot to the other but he laughs. “Well, I wouldn’t say that, but as I said, women do like the house, yes.”

  “And I bet you don’t have any problem getting dates,” Paul continues.

  “Well, no. Not really,” Will answers with a smile.

  My stomach lurches.

  “So you bring ’em here and ka-ching! You score,” Paul says.

  Will laughs. “When I’m lucky.” A second later he turns and points to their left in an attempt to distract him. “Paul, did you check out the snow globe collection?”

  I silently step back from the set until I’m out of the tight circle of the sound and cameramen. As soon as I’m clear, I head for the kitchen. I pace back and forth for a minute, then pull open the back door and wander across the lawn. His words, when I’m lucky, keep echoing in my
head. Was he joking?

  I’m only a few paces in when Romeo charges toward me from the back of the yard. This time I’m prepared. I stop in my tracks and turn to face the pint-sized beast. When he’s a few yards away, I throw out my arm powerfully with my hand up.

  “Stop! Don’t even think about it, you little horndog, or you’ll regret it!”

  Romeo skids to a stop, apparently stunned by my outburst.

  I’m still not sure he’ll be stopped so easily. “I’m not kidding, you little wild man!” I yell. I sound like a crazy person, but a woman can only take so much, and I’m at the end of my rope.

  Romeo takes a tentative step forward as if testing me.

  I shake my finger dramatically. “I’m not messing around, Romeo. Stay away from me!”

  I realize that I’m raging, gasping for breath as I glare at him. The good news is my outburst is apparently effective. Romeo tucks his tail between his legs and cowers away.

  I spot a picnic table in the back of the garden and I march over and sit down, ignoring the dirt on the bench. I lean on my elbows and wish I were anywhere but here.

  I allow myself to embrace my moping. I was feeling hopeful about what was developing between Will and me. Now all I can hear are asshole Paul’s inappropriate questions painting Will as a lady’s man repeating in my head. Suddenly, I’m just one more in a long line of women that have been charmed by Will and his house. Magical indeed.

  Was that stuff he said about not dating anyone for a while, true? He never painted himself as a monk, but certainly he hasn’t portrayed himself as a ladies man either… until he suggested it on camera for the world to see. It angers me to think he accused me of playing him earlier and now I’m wondering if Will the Womanizer has been playing me.

  I stew for a minute but find my resolve and straighten. I’m at work on an important shoot, for God’s sake. I need to get my act together.

  I’m glad I learned about this side of Will now, before we’d gone too far. Paul actually did me a favor. I stand and brush the dirt off the back of my slacks. I pull back my shoulders, and as I march back to the house, I renew my all-consuming focus on work.

  As I reach the back porch I see Roger, the sound guy, watching me.

  “Hey, what are you doing out here, Roger?”

  He squints at me and takes a long drag from his cigarette, then slowly blows out the smoke. “I could ask the same, Sophia. As my Aunt Beth used to say, it looks like you have a bee in your bonnet.”

  I stop in my tracks and wonder who else saw me pacing in the backyard or yelling at Romeo. It’s just another kick in the pants and a reminder to put my work face on and soldier through the day. I clear my throat and smile. “I’m fine, just taking a break.”

  “Uh-huh,” he says, not sounding the slightest bit convinced.

  “So, why are you out here?”

  “Some days I can only take Paul in small doses. That poor guy in there—Christmas dude—doesn’t know what hit him, and that shit gets to me sometimes. These people have no idea what they’re getting themselves into when they sign up for these shows.”

  “Will? I ask.

  “Yeah, he seems like an all right guy, but Paul is toying with him. I’m not sure why yet, but I’ll figure it out.”

  “I’m starting to wonder if Paul always has an agenda.”

  “I have some theories about this setup.”

  “Come on, Roger, share.” I press.

  “Maybe Paul has the hots for the dude and is pissed he doesn’t pitch for Paul’s team.”

  My eyes go wide. “Oh, geez, you can’t be serious,” I say. Great, one more thing to feel awkward about on this shoot.

  “Sorry.” He lifts his hands up in defense. “I just call ’em as I see ’em, and that guy is definitely straight. If you don’t mind me saying so, I think that dude fancies you.”

  I absentmindedly bite on my thumbnail and try not to look too curious. “Yeah? What makes you think that?”

  “You walked out during the last setup.”

  I swallow nervously. “Yeah, what about it?”

  “He was doing fine, and then he lost his focus when he saw you walk away. I thought he was going to go after you, but Paul pulled all the stops to keep him focused where he needed to be.”

  The back door suddenly swings open, and Will steps outside.

  He gives me a relieved smile but when he spies Roger, his demeanor changes. He nods to Roger before turning to me. “Hey, Sophia. You got a minute? I wanted to check with you about something.”

  Roger smiles quietly and snubs out his cigarette. “Think I’ll head back inside.”

  “Talk to you later, Roger,” I say with a wave before turning to Will. “What’s up?”

  Will steps closer and slides his hands in his pockets. “Well, I was just thinking about our lunch today.”

  Lunch? That’s a little random. I eye him, bewildered. “What about our lunch?”

  “Well, there was so much food left over.”

  I realize where this is going. “And…”

  Will gives me a hopeful smile. “Do you think we could donate it to a shelter? I could make some calls.”

  Oh, Will. It’s hard to be angry with him when he shows this side of himself.

  “I’ll check with Lindsey, but I can’t imagine why not. I’ll go find her.”

  Will grins. “That’s great, thanks.” I’m almost past him when he turns and touches my arm.

  “Hey, is everything okay?”

  “Sure,” I reply, giving him a blank expression.

  “I noticed you left in the middle of the shot in the living room.”

  I’m embarrassed but I’m not willing to get into it now. He’s our subject, I remind myself. I need to keep him upbeat and focused for the shoot.

  “Bathroom. Sorry if it distracted you.”

  He takes a deep breath and relaxes his shoulders. “No worries, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “I think it’s going really well, don’t you? You’re getting comfortable in front of the camera.”

  He rubs his chin. “Well, I wouldn’t say comfortable… but it’s gone from excruciating to tolerable.”

  I laugh. “That’s progress indeed.”

  “Besides, I know Paul goes on and on with me, but in the end they’re just going to use a few sound bites, right?”

  “Probably.”

  “So, how bad can it possibly be?”

  I nod. “It’ll be fine. All right, let me go find Lindsey to make arrangements for the leftover food before the next setup starts.”

  “Thanks, Sophia.”

  There’s something in his parting smile that breaks me a little. He looks so genuinely happy. It’s that kind of feeling that narrows one’s vision to only the bright and shiny things. Under a bluer sky, the dirty fingerprints of disappointment fade away.

  But the fingerprints are there, and I am covered with them as I open the back door and step into the house.

  “Oh jeez, he’s really something. Is he for real?” Lindsey asks.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, trying not to sound too curious.

  “It’s just not every day you find a guy his age, who looks like that”—she fans herself dramatically— “and is all about helping people. I mean what the hell is wrong with him?”

  I shake my head. “You’re so cynical, Lindsey. Can’t he just be a good guy?”

  Lindsey rolls her eyes. “Yeah, right. It’s not like he’s Amish or something and living in Dutch country. This is L.A. That would make him as rare in this town as a well-intentioned studio mom.”

  “Oh, that’s a good one!” I laugh.

  “Besides, maybe it’s like what Paul was getting at on the last take—he does it to charm the ladies. If so, it’s working. He was so distracting, I don’t even remember what I ate for lunch.”

  I keep a fake smile plastered on my face. “Well, tell all, Lindsey. Was he flirting with you?”

  “I wish! Nah, he’s quite the subtle
one if that was flirting. But you can bet I was. Alas, he was oblivious to my charms.”

  I fight the relief bubbling up inside of me. “His loss then. I’m going to go check in with Paul. Do you want to tell Will about the food for the shelter?”

  “I’d be happy to,” she says with a smile.

  “So, for this last take I want to talk to you about your favorite Christmas gift ever,” Paul explains to Will.

  Paul, Will, and I are in the sitting area of the living room while Aaron, Terry, and Roy get set up. With Paul’s question I see a glint of pain in Will’s eyes before he looks down.

  Twenty minutes later the camera’s rolling and Paul puts his spin on the subject. “So Will, I remember my all-time favorite Christmas gift when I was a kid. It still makes me giddy just thinking about it.”

  Will goes with it like a pro. “What was it, Paul?”

  “A Super 8 camera and a toy clapper board so I could make my own movies. For weeks after, every time my family heard the clapper snap shut and me yell action they ran and hid.”

  “That’s great.”

  “So what was your favorite gift ever? When did Santa thrill you the most?”

  Will’s smile turns wistful. “Actually it wasn’t from Santa. It was a bike I had wanted for almost two years: a bright red racing bike. With our situation, it was out of reach, but one Christmas I got it from my parents. I was beside myself.”

  “Nice. Nothing like making a kid’s dream come true,” says Paul, nodding.

  Paul turns to the camera and points. “So, all you viewers at home, what was your favorite Christmas present? Log onto our website and let us know!”

  When Aaron gestures and Lindsey yells cut, Paul jumps off the couch. “Okay, that wraps it up for today. Good job, Will. We got some good stuff.”

  “Thanks.”

  Lindsey steps into the circle. “Hey, powwow. There’s been a development.”

  “What’s up?” I ask.

  “We just got a confirmation. That big Pacific Northwest storm is heading this way. We knew there was a chance of rain this week, but now it’s confirmed. We’re going to have to reschedule Friday’s exterior shoot.”

  “Crap, I really wanted to wrap this up this week,” says Paul.