Mr. 365

by Clampett, Ruth

  He stands and pulls my chair out for me.

  “Thanks,” I say, scooting mine closer to the table and hanging my purse over the chair back. I cross my legs and fold my hands nervously in my lap.

  “It’s good to see you. Well, you know… when you want to see me,” I say, anxiously.

  “I do,” he says, leaning toward me with a charged energy. He smiles as he studies me.

  I squirm like a kid waiting to get on a theme park ride. He’s making my heart do loop de loops.

  We stare at each other silently. It’s as if now that we’re finally here we don’t know where to start.

  “I got this for you,” he finally says, pushing a passion fruit iced tea toward me.

  “Thanks.” I smile and take a sip, remembering that I ordered this the first time we met.

  He looks down and stirs his coffee. “So, I heard you quit.”

  I nod. “I sure did. Steph told me she shared that with you.”

  “And you’re giving up your apartment?”

  “Yeah, that’s kind of tough, but I’m being proactive since my salary is going to be much lower moving forward.”

  “Are you moving out of L.A.?” His eyebrows rise and his mouth twists like he’s worried about me leaving.

  “Not unless I have to. I’d rather stay.” The meaning behind my words falls heavy between us.

  He takes a deep breath and nods.

  “Would you rather I stay?” I ask.

  He scrutinizes me intently and his eyes look sad. I’m on pins and needles waiting for his reply.

  “I’d much rather you stay.”

  My heart skips and I close my eyes as his words sink in. He wants me to stay.

  He clears his throat and when he speaks his voice sounds strained. “What can I do to help so you don’t have to leave? Whatever you need….”

  I sit up straighter trying to compose myself. “Thank you. Actually I had a promising interview this week. The bad news is there’s a lot of travel, but the good news is that it’s L.A. based.”

  “Tell me about it,” he says.

  “It’s with this guy, James Ray. He’s a documentary filmmaker… amazing stuff. I’d be in heaven working with him.”

  Will’s hands tighten over his coffee cup and a muscle in his jaw twitches. “Heaven? That’s a pretty big word. I bet he was quite taken with you too.”

  I nod excitedly. “I think he was. Our talk went an hour over what we’d planned.”

  Will stares out the window with knitted brows and his hands curled into fists. I can’t tell if he’s angry or confused but I don’t like that something has shifted.

  I narrow my eyes as I watch him. His expression changes again and his shoulders slump just a little. Is he jealous of James? I clear my throat and he glances at me.

  “Did I mention James is gay?” I ask demurely.

  He tries to hold back the smile. “No, you neglected to mention that.”

  I take a deep breath and tighten my hands over my knees. “Will, don’t you understand that I’m still completely in love with you?” I lean toward him.

  He smiles and looks down. When he looks back up, his gaze is full of blinding intensity.

  “Yes, the letter that I read over and over… the one I carry everywhere in my back pocket? That letter pretty much made your feelings clear.”

  I relax my hands and give him a brave smile. “Good. I need you to be sure. I don’t want to waste time and muddle around anymore. I may never be able to make up for my dimwittedness in the face of something so precious that you trusted me with, but I’ll never stop trying. If you give me another chance, even if we’re just friends, I want the opportunity to show you the kind of woman I can be.”

  “Damn, Sophia,” he says, dragging his fingers through his hair.

  “What? Too much?” I ask, worried I’ve overwhelmed him.

  He runs his tongue over his perfect lips. The lips I desperately want to kiss.

  “No, not too much. Actually you’re just right.” He gazes at me wide-eyed and sincere.

  “This is in your hands, Will… my heart, everything. If it were up to me, I’d be in your lap right now kissing you senseless. But I’m restraining myself because this is all up to you.”

  “I see.” He leans forward and watches me with his chin cupped in his hand and his elbow squarely on the table. “First let me say that nothing would make me happier than you in my lap right now, but I’d be the one kissing you senseless.”

  I blink and lean back in my chair. I’m pretty sure he can hear my heart skipping. Just the way he’s looking at me is making me swoon.

  He straightens up. “I almost forgot.” He reaches over to the chair next to him, sets a small bakery box on the table, and pushes it toward me.

  “Is this what I think it is? You once told me you got turned on watching me eat one.”

  He smiles. “I did.”

  I feel encouraged and look up at him adoringly. Just the idea of being in his bed again causes a blush of watercolor pinks to move up my chest and across my cheeks.

  He looks at my neck and then up to my lips, which part just enough to put a satisfied smile on his face.

  I pull open the box and admire the macaroons nestled in the wax paper. I lift one out and run my tongue along its edge.

  “Damn,” he says darkly as he studies me.

  “So good,” I whisper.

  He silently watches me nibble away at the delectable morsel, slowly licking my fingers when it’s gone.

  “So, I was thinking…” He pauses, watching me pull my index finger out from between my lips.

  “Yes?”

  He suddenly looks very serious like a cloud is moving over us. I realize I can’t taste the macaroon’s sweetness anymore.

  “Well, I’ve been thinking about how selfish I’ve been. I was so blinded by my anger over the show that I couldn’t see how devastated you also were by what happened. It took me a while to realize how you must have felt, knowing you’d made me promises with the production while not understanding that you were a pawn in their scheme. You’re a proud woman, Sophia. It’s horrible what they did to you.”

  “It is, and I am proud,” I agree. “All of this has been so humiliating but I’ve learned a lot from it.”

  “As have I. We were both in over our heads and just couldn’t see it. As a consequence we both made mistakes that can’t be changed. But together we can take what we’ve learned and start over.”

  “Do you mean the two of us start over? Like a do-over?” I ask, my eyes wide with hope.

  “We can’t erase the past but we can start fresh and start over. I could take you on a date, and this time it would be about getting close again without all that junk from the show to deal with.”

  “Just us? Is that why you had us meet here?” I ask with a happy smile.

  He grins. “Yeah. I’m so damn clever, aren’t I?”

  “So clever,” I agree.

  He slides his hand across the table and reaches for me. As I slide mine into his I look up, realizing this is a big moment, like the pause on an award show when the envelope is carefully peeled open. I get the sense that my name will be called as a winner after all.

  I squeeze his hand and take a deep breath as he speaks up.

  “Actually I don’t want to be clever, Sophia. I want to be straight with you like you were with me. Your letter broke my heart and put it back together again. It was the bravest, most loving gesture anyone has ever given me. Every time I read it, another layer of anger or disappointment disappeared. All that’s left is this great big love I have for you.”

  I gasp and look up at him. “Big?”

  He nods with a sweet smile. “Huge. Gigantic. Earth shattering.”

  “Wow. You aren’t just teasing me?”

  “My heart is yours, Sophia. Like you said in your letter, let’s just keep writing this story. Let’s never let it end.”

  I press my fingers together to keep them from trembling as I wipe the ha
ppy tears off my cheeks. The biggest smile starts inside of me and works its way to my face.

  “So with that in mind, are you free tomorrow night?” he asks.

  I feel giddy like the sun is breaking through the clouds and bright flowers are popping open like popcorn kernels in a hot kettle. Meanwhile all the little creatures gather to celebrate new beginnings. I can almost hear their tiny, high voices blending in harmony.

  “Sophia?”

  “What?” I snap out of my happy dreamland.

  “Can I take you on a date tomorrow night?”

  “Yes, please,” I say with a grin.

  He lifts up our hands and pulls me out of my chair and onto his lap. Every emotion I have is a jumbled blend of joy, passion, thrill, and relief. I don’t even know what to feel at first so I lean into him and brush my lips along his jaw.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” I whisper.

  “Oh, Sophia.” He sighs before cupping my face in his hands and gently brushing his thumbs over my cheeks. He gazes at me with a warm expression, leans closer, and kisses me. Each following kiss is more loving than the last, and soon I’m a swoony puddle barely able to keep from sliding off his lap. I rejoice knowing this is the first forever kiss, because I will never ever let this man go and, I suspect, he will never let me go either.

  When we finally part to catch a breath, his cheeks are red and his eyes bright, the most thrilled I’ve ever seen him.

  “I’m so happy, Will.” My heart’s so light I feel as if I’m floating. I finally allow myself to imagine what the future can be and I’m sure this time we can be a better version of what we were.

  He smiles and pulls me closer. Taking my hand, he kisses it as if he’s sealing the deal.

  “Me too.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  One Year Later…

  Will leans over the back of the truck and unties the rope keeping the large spruce tree from sliding out the truck bed. He rolls his eyes and grins as I pull on my heavy gardening gloves. I look at the new building painted in a sunny yellow. The sign reads Center City Family Shelter.

  I lean my face into the spruce with my eyes closed. The sweet whiff of evergreen brings back memories from my childhood when the whole family would head to the lot to pick out our tree. “Ah, nothing better than the smell of a fresh Christmas tree.”

  He takes a whiff himself before pulling off the last of the rope. “You sure you don’t want me to get Hank to help us carry this inside?” he asks.

  “What, you don’t think I’m macho enough?” I flex my arms and wink at him.

  “There’s nothing macho about you, which is fine by me.” He winks back.

  He steps to the entrance of the shelter and rings the buzzer. The person that mans the evening desk props the doors open for us as we struggle to get the monster of a tree inside. Hank meets up with us in the main hall.

  “What are you doing, Sophia?” he asks, stepping up and taking my end of the tree. Even though I’m doing okay, I decide not to fight him. Hank is always such a gentleman. As he and Will proceed, he nods toward the large family room. “Everyone’s so excited you’re bringing this tree. The kids have been making decorations all week.”

  My heart is full as Hank and Will set the tree upright and several kids run over.

  A little boy named Chris turns to his mother and yells excitedly, “Look, Momma, a real tree.” She smiles and joins him to stroke the branches where the needles are still soft.

  While the men string the lights, Judy, the director, shows me the various art projects that have been lovingly worked on in preparation for tonight. Popcorn has been strung on string and dusted with glitter, paper chains have been looped together, and the handmade ornaments using pipe cleaners, beads, and colored craft paper are proudly lined up and ready to be hung.

  “Which ones did you guys make?” I ask Chris and Shauna, Chris’s sister who’s joined him. They each hold up one for me to examine.

  “I made a bunch, but this one’s my favorite,” Chris says standing tall and pointing out all the special details he added to his dog wearing a Santa hat ornament.

  I compliment them both on their great work.

  “How’s it working out having the village in here?” Will asks Hank.

  “Much better. Remember last year we had to put it up high behind the check-in desk so the kids wouldn’t keep playing with and breaking the little ceramic figures?” Hank asks.

  “Yeah, this is so much nicer. I’m so glad I spotted that oversized Lucite display case at the studio. Now they can enjoy it and walk around it with no worries.”

  A little girl with red hair runs up to Hank and tugs on his jacket. “Can you please turn on the trains, Hank?”

  “Sure, Angela. Would you like to be conductor and turn on the switch?” She claps her hands and runs over to the village display.

  I step next to Will and take his hand. He squeezes mine and kisses me on the top of my head. A feeling of contentment washes over me, one of those amazing moments when everything feels perfectly right.

  After decorating, cocoa and singing Christmas songs, we say good night to everyone and Hank walks us out to our truck.

  “Hey, Sophia, I found another family for your documentary. It’s a sad story, but if I ever meet a woman who’s going to pull herself out of her situation, it’s this woman, Theota. She has a will of iron.”

  “That’s great, Hank. Please tell her I’ll check in and see if there’s a time we can meet next week. It looks like our grant is getting funded after all.”

  Will wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me closer. “Isn’t she amazing, Hank?”

  He grins. “She sure is. And he’s your biggest fan, Sophia.”

  “I know.” I look up at Will with a smile.

  “Say, did I tell you guys that they moved me up to the room on the top floor? It’s so quiet up there.”

  “You told us they’d talked to you about it. So you have your own kitchen now?” I ask, proud of Hank. After he helped Will move some of his Christmas stuff to the shelter last year, the director was so impressed with Hank that she gave him all kinds of odd jobs. Eventually she asked him to join the staff and as part of his pay, he got housing.

  “My own kitchen and a bigger living space. But honestly I haven’t used the kitchen much. I like eating with Lisa. She’s such a good woman,” he says, his eyes twinkling.

  “And from what I hear a great cook.” Will teases him.

  We say our good-nights and head home, feeling the warm satisfaction of knowing we put some smiles on the kids’ faces.

  We let Romeo out in the yard and sit on the deck hand-in-hand.

  “I’m happy to see Hank looking so settled,” I say as Romeo runs off to chase some critter in the yard.

  Will sighs. “I’ve never seen him this content. He’s broken the cycle of being homeless and I’m really proud of him.”

  “You know it happened because of you.”

  “No. He may have met the group at the shelter when he helped me set up the village and train set I donated last year, but the rest is all Hank. He’s a good man.”

  I reflect on the year we’ve had. There have been setbacks and disappointments but wonderful things, too. I look at Will, and my heart swells, knowing our love has grown deeper than I knew was possible. I trace the bottom of his tattoo on his arm, my fingertip outlining the roots of the oak tree.

  He looks down. “The tree’s roots keep me steady,” he says, watching with a tender expression. “Like you, Sophia.”

  “As you do for me.” I feel the goose bumps on his skin. “You must be getting cold. Let’s go inside and do something Christmasy of our very own.”

  “Like what? The house is pretty low-key now as far as Christmas goes.”

  “Hey, I love our little tree and homemade stockings on the mantle.”

  He laughs and squeezes my hand. “I do too.”

  “I know—we could shake up our snow globe. The one I gave you to win you back last
year.” I smile remembering the first time I realized Will had placed the snow globe front and center on his mantle.

  “Okay. And then let’s head upstairs and find other ways to celebrate.”

  He calls Romeo, and we head into the house. “So, do you ever miss that I’m not your big deal Mr. Christmas anymore?”

  I look at him with wide eyes before wrapping my arms around him. “You’re so much more than that, Will. You’re everything I ever wanted, wonderful in every way.”

  His smile shines bright, warming both of us in its glow. “That’s right—I always wanted to be so much more than your Mr. Christmas, Sophia. I’m completely yours and always will be, three hundred sixty-five days a year.”

  Acknowledgements

  Thanks to my daughter, Alex for both supporting and tolerating a mother who talks far too much about fictional characters. I’ve passed on to you my excessive tendencies when it comes to holidays, and you’ve given me quite the fodder with your reality show fascination. We make a fine pair.

  Big love to my sister Cheri, and dear friends Lisa and Judy who read early drafts of this story and asked all the right questions for me to go back in and make it better.

  Huge thanks and hallelujahs to Angela Borda, Aviva Layton and Janine Savage: editors, drill sergeants, and delightful cheerleaders. You pushed me hard and I loved every minute of it. Will and Sophia thank you too.

  Unending gratitude and a few ironic eye-rolls to David Johnston whose cover photography elevated my crazy ideas into something I’m really proud of. Your amazing talent and kindness are appreciated, while your wacky YouTube links and emails keep me grounded.

  Jada D’Lee: uber designer, goddess and supportive girlfriend deluxe…I’m so lucky to have you in my life. Thank you for all that you do.

  Every Skype emoticon of love to my Lost Girls, Erika, Susi and Dawn. You’ve put up with endless babbling from me about a boy who loves Christmas. Your support and love has helped get me through a very challenging year.