“I come down here sometimes if I can’t sleep. This is a place I like to think things out.”
“So you’ve got a lot on your mind?”
He nods. “Yeah, there’s a lot going on.”
Everything in this room looks different in the dim light. The iridescent walls have lost their shimmer, and many of the ornament shapes are hard to identify. It reminds me of a film I saw about divers and how dark the ocean is when they dive deep.
“So you come to the room you created for Andrew when you need to work things out?” I feel sad as I say it.
“Does that weird you out?”
I look at the treasure chest. “Yes and no. I think I’m a little unnerved because earlier we were making love, and now you’re here. I’m not sure how to feel about that.”
“Right after this room was done I used to sit and talk to Andrew pretty much every night. I haven’t done that in a while. Now it just makes me feel peaceful being in here.”
He skims right over my concern, and I wonder if he even heard me. “Is it strange having me in here?”
He traces the scratches on the back of his hand with his finger, and then looks up. “No. The significance of this room is part of me, part of my past. It’s right that I would share it with you.”
“I’m glad you feel that way.”
“Losing Andrew changed my entire life. And even though all these years have passed, it’s still with me.”
“I understand. Can I ask you how he died?” I ask gently.
Even in the dim light, I see the agony flair in his eyes.
“Andrew was the ideal big brother. He was fun and imaginative, protective and bossy. We even had a secret language with each other. I’ve heard twins have the same thing…. He only tortured me occasionally.” He grins.
I laugh. I learned quickly how to give it right back to my siblings, but it could be exhausting.
“So like me, Andrew inherited the holiday gene and always came up with all kinds of adventures for us around the holidays. Around that time my dad’s company was doing transport for a piano manufacturer. If he had access to empty piano crates, he’d haul them home for us to use as clubhouses. He’d just cut out openings for windows and doors out of the sides and we were good to go.”
“Cool,” I say, imagining it in my mind.
“That year we had one we played in all the time and dad strung strands of lights around the crate during Christmas. Andrew convinced me that we were explorers living in the North Pole, hunting reindeer for food, and keeping watch for Santa.”
“How cute.” I picture Will with a plastic bow and arrow stalking suburban backyards with his brother.
“So one Saturday I was crawling through the door to go inside the clubhouse and I scraped up my side because the opening was too small. I made such a scene about it that Andrew decided he’d fix the problem. Dad was at work that day, so Andrew went and got dad’s saw out of the garage and starting sawing away while I cheered him on. It didn’t occur to either of us to turn off the Christmas lights and move them out of the way.”
I close my eyes, suspecting what’s to come.
Will stops and when I glance up, his eyes are haunted as if he’s reliving it. “It happened so fast, Sophia. One minute we’re laughing and he’s proudly making progress as he cuts away, and the next there’s a horrible noise—I’ll never forget that sound—and he falls over flat.”
I gasp at the visual and cover my mouth with my open hands.
“I knew it was really bad. I screamed and ran into the house to get my mom, but by the time we got back, he was gone. He had the live wires clutched in his hands. He’d cut not just through the lights but the big extension cord and there was some issue with the outside lighting so it didn’t trip the circuit breaker.”
“Oh, God. How horrible. I can’t even imagine.”
“My mom went completely nuts. They had to sedate her, and she was never the same after that day. She blamed me, she blamed my dad, and she even blamed Christmas. I felt like my life was over even though Andrew was the one that was gone.”
“So that’s why your family no longer celebrated Christmas.”
He nods. “Not only did we never have it again, it was the worst time of the year in our house. Everything was gray and empty. Dad would drink more than usual and mom would sink into a catatonic depression. I hated being there and as soon as I got old enough, I stayed away as much as I could.”
We sit silently for a minute, and I think about what this means to the Will I know now.
“So all of this” —I gesture to the house— “is to make up for what you lost?”
“Yeah, although it wasn’t premeditated or anything. It just sort of happened over time. I told you about that studio job where I worked on a Christmas movie. It was this big overdone production—every inch of the house was Christmasized. At first I approached it unaware of how it would affect me personally. As the project went on I realized how happy I was working on it. I would get there earlier than I needed to, and hang around longer at the end of the day.”
“How interesting. Your reaction was instinctive. It gave you back some of the joy you missed out on as a child.”
“Exactly. So when they offered the props in lieu of pay, I jumped at the chance even though part of me was worried I’d lost my mind. Where was I going to put all that stuff when it wasn’t Christmas?” He laughs and shrugs.
“Fast forward a few years and here we are,” I say, grinning.
“Yes, indeed. Here we are.”
“What do you imagine Andrew would think of all this?”
“I’ve often wondered that. I think he’d love it.”
“I bet he would.” I scrunch up my nose. “Maybe not all the glitter and mermaids in here… but everything else.”
“Yeah,” he says with a wistful smile.
I scan the room, seeing it in a new light. It occurs to me that this room is different from the rest, but I decide not to bring it up.
“What were you just thinking?”
I sigh and my expression falls. “Just that this is the only room with no Christmas lights.”
“No. Pity the girl I was dating who surprised me by hanging some in here a few years back.”
“Oh, no.”
“Believe me, it was a short lived relationship,” he says.
I smooth his T-shirt down over my legs and get up. “I’m going to go back to bed. Come up whenever you’re ready, okay?”
He takes my hand and stands. “I’m ready.”
After walk back to the room, we crawl under the covers and into each other’s arms. He smiles and runs his fingers over my cheek.
“What?” I ask.
“All that talking and you never asked me what I was thinking about downstairs. I talked to Andrew about something important.”
“Really? What did you talk about?”
He links his hand in mine and squeezes gently. “I told him I’m in love with you.”
“Oh, Will!” I press my hand over my heart to keep it in my chest. I’m overcome with emotion. That’s when an idea hits me. I peel the covers off me and swing my legs over the side of the bed.
“I’ll be right back,” I say.
“Hey, where are you going?” he says, grabbing the back of my makeshift nightie.
I turn back and grin, my eyes dancing. “I’m going to talk to Andrew and tell him I’m in love with you, too.”
His smile is so big I’d swear the sun’s burst in his room.
“Come here you!” He tackles me and pins me to the bed with his body. A moment later he begins expressing to me all of his love, without using a single word.
Chapter Fifteen
The sunrise is brilliant the next morning, illuminating a crystal blue sky and leaving every shadow sharply defined. Fine dew lingers over the manicured lawns with the quiet hush fading as the sounds of a new day fill the air. Fall in Los Angeles never feels like autumn, just a cooler version of a sunny day.
Will
surveys the front yard before I head out to work. I’m relieved to see all the decorations exactly where they’d been left the night before. The neighbors have been prepped for what’s happening this evening, but one never knows how people will react to a yard of Christmas stuff in mid-October. Hell, it’s not even Halloween yet.
“So I’ll be back before the truck shows up,” I say, feeling glum as Will hugs me good-bye.
“Why are you pouting?” He places his fingers under my chin and lifts my face to greet him.
“I’d rather hang out with you and Romeo today.”
“I’d rather you did that too. Take the day off!” he says enthusiastically.
I sigh. “I can’t.”
“Well then don’t pout, baby. You’ll be back here before you know it, and we’ll be here waiting for you.”
I lean over and give Romeo a pat. “See you later, handsome.” His tail wags furiously.
I kiss Will next. “And see you later too, handsome.”
I get into my car and when I roll down my window, I overhear Will talking to Romeo.
“Hey, Romeo, we sure know how to pick ’em, don’t we?”
Romeo barks.
“You said it dude, she’s quality.”
That afternoon, the trucks aren’t even fully unloaded before the yelling starts. It’s like herding cats. The crew is more irritable than usual.
“We have to figure out what shots are most the important so we can prioritize the shoot and make the most of our time before we lose the light.” Aaron points to his makeshift schedule.
“I don’t think it’s going to be a problem. This place is like a damn theme park—there are almost no black holes.” Stu argues.
“I thought we’d already mapped this out. Paul and I agreed that we were going to start with a pan of the overall house and yard, and then zoom to the roof with Santa and the sleigh,” I say, my arms folded over my chest.
“That’s so expected.” Terry rolls his eyes.
“Do not get fucking artsy on us, Terry. We have four hours to get everything and this isn’t a Merchant Ivory film. As our Sophia said, Santa and the damn sleigh—this shot isn’t optional.” Lindsey puts her hands on her hips and glares.
“And then the tight shots of the most animated stuff like the Ferris wheel. We need enough light for that,” Aaron says.
“Sure, fine.” Lindsey sighs.
I watch Will as he stands on the front porch with his arms folded and observes the argument. He had hoped to be an observer tonight, but Lindsey and I informed him earlier that he’s expected to say a few things on camera. Now we’re waiting to find out what that is exactly.
“Tell me when you want everything fired up,” Will yells when there’s a lull in the arguing. I smile at how comfortable he is with everyone now.
“Thanks,” Aaron calls back. “Will do.”
Lindsey looks at her watch. “Probably in about thirty minutes.”
Will waves. “Okay, fine.”
I get busy with details but I smile at him from a distance just before I touch base with Lindsey. He winks at me and I beam in response.
“How’s it going?” I ask Lindsey.
“Fine. This should be pretty straightforward as long as they can get everything to read on camera.”
I nod. “Isn’t it amazing?”
Lindsey laughs loudly as I scan the yard. “It’s so typical of me. I haven’t really looked at anything from the perspective of a viewer… just the potential problems with the shoot. Now that you mention it, it is amazing. Those singing polar bears are a hoot.”
“Can you imagine what the kids think when they see it?” I ask with reverence.
“Yeah, but where the hell does he store all this crap?”
“He’s got it figured out, but who cares. I think it’s really special what he’s created here.”
Lindsey shakes her head and laughs. “Damn, girl, you’ve got it bad.”
She looks at Will who’s looking at me. She nods toward him. “I guess that works since he’s obviously got it bad too.”
I smile but don’t encourage her. “Oh, Lindsey,” I say with a loud sigh before wandering off to find Paul.
I watch Will with amusement as they mike him up for the next take.
“Will, say something so we can make sure your mike is working,” Terry says.
“What should I say?”
“Whatever you want as long as you’re talking. Pretend you’re Santa Claus.”
“Testing, testing. Ho, ho, ho, Merry Christmas,” Will says, rolling his eyes.
Terry nods. “Good, thanks.”
Aaron motions for Paul to start.
“So, Will, you showed us the amazing, over-the-top, Christmas décor in your house, but you hadn’t warned us that the best stuff is outside. This is crazy,” Paul says.
“Well, that’s one way of putting it,” Will says dryly.
“Now I’ve heard that your house is really well known in the area, and you get a lot of visitors over the holidays. Is that true?”
“Yeah, from the day the set up goes live, there’s usually a crowd along the fence looking at everything. It pretty much stays that way until after New Year’s.”
“A crowd? Wow! Your neighbors must love that,” says Paul.
“No, not really,” Will answers honestly.
“Aw, where’s their Christmas spirit? Don’t be Scrooges, neighbors,” Paul says.
“That probably isn’t going to help,” Will says, shifting his weight uncomfortably.
As if on cue an old Pontiac slowly passes by the house and a young man leans out the car window and yells, “Hey pretty boy, your house sucks and you do too!”
Will grits his teeth and clenches his hands into fists as the car tears into the driveway next door.
As I watch Will’s reaction I’m horrified that anyone would do that, let alone your next door neighbor.
Paul waves to the car enthusiastically. “Love you too, asshole!”
“Can you say that on TV?” Will asks, his eyebrows raised.
“No, Aaron stopped shooting. Do we need to do a retake, Aaron?” Paul asks.
“We’re okay. I’m sure we can salvage the front end of that,” he replies.
Paul turns to Lindsey. “I thought you took care of those losers.”
“Yeah, Lindsey,” I grumble as I put my clenched fists on my hips and glare at her.
“Okay, okay. Let me go over there yet again. They’ve become my all-time favorite people… not!” she snaps as she heads next door.
After Lindsey returns, I take her aside. “Are we good?”
Lindsey frowns. “Not exactly. They just told me that since the check is late and won’t be here until tomorrow, they want to triple, not double their fee. I told them it was impossible.”
“Are you joking?” I ask with disbelief.
“I wish I was,” Lindsey says, shaking her head.
“What are we going to do?”
Lindsey chews on her lip. “We should talk to George first thing in the morning. Maybe he’ll get the lawyer involved.”
By the time the guys are done shooting, quite a crowd has gathered behind the picket fence. “It’s much too early in the season for this kind of spectacle,” an old man walking his dog, observes.
“We’re filming a special. The set is coming down tomorrow so enjoy it while you can,” Lindsey announces loudly.
“Can’t you leave it up?” a young boy asks, looking disappointed.
“Sorry, the owner’s not allowed to, but he’ll have it back up around Thanksgiving,” I say.
“That’s great! It’s super cool. The best Christmas house ever!” he says.
Will steps up next to me. “Super cool? That’s high praise. Thanks, dude,” he says to the boy as his parents pull him along.
He turns to me and smiles. “You’re getting a taste for what it’s like.”
“Do you come out and talk to the crowd often?” I ask.
He shrugs. “It depe
nds on my mood, but I usually do at least once a night. People tell me great stories. It’s usually pretty interesting.”
I eye the production van. “I bet. Hey, it looks like they’re almost packed up. How much longer do you want to keep everything lit?”
“Let’s give the crowd a ten minute warning and then shut it down.”
I nod and give Lindsey the direction. While she makes announcements to the crowd, I whisper, “Would it be okay if I stay with you again tonight?”
He grins. “Of course, you don’t need to ask. I always want you here.”
His smile is warm and it carries to his eyes. It melts me when he looks at me like that.
The crew says their good-byes to Will, and I pretend that I’m going to use the restroom before leaving. I say good-bye to everyone and head into the house. When the coast is clear, I come back out and we say good night to the group of neighbors still left at the fence. Will turns off the lights one circuit at a time until the yard is dark except for the landscape lighting and front lanterns. He takes me by the hand and we go inside.
“The three-ring circus is officially done. I think we need to celebrate,” he says. His grin is boyish as if a heavy weight has been lifted off his weary shoulders.
I smile, glad to see the giddy relief on his face, even if I was the one who introduced this distress in his life.
“Champagne?”
“Yes.”
I pull two glasses out of the cabinet while he digs around in his refrigerator. “They gave us champagne when the last series ended,” he explains as he finds the bottle and pulls it out. “I’ve been waiting for something to celebrate.”
“Perfect.”
“Sorry I don’t have those fancy champagne glasses, but we can use wine glasses,” he says when I set out tumblers.
“I keep telling you I’m not fancy.” I insist.
“Hmm.” He pops the cork and pours two healthy glassfuls.
I lift mine up. “Here’s to getting through!”
“Hell yes! It’s over!” He laughs, his energy invigorating.
I expected we’d be exhausted but as it turns out, Will is amped up and he gets me going. As we work our way through the champagne bottle, my flirting accelerates and he teases back.
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