“Thanks, Bec.” Sara radiated smiles.
Eastman left the woman and girl and came up to Sara and Rebecca. “I just wanted to thank you and say goodbye,” he said. “You get an A plus, Sara. Very well done.”
“Thank you, Mr. Eastman.”
He nodded to Rebecca and left them.
Once he was out of earshot, Sara said, “So?”
“So, what?”
“Did you have fun?”
“Yes. But it wasn’t because of him. It was your treasure hunt that did it.”
“Sure, Bec, sure.”
Before Sara could probe any further, Rebecca excused herself and headed for the office to take care of a bit of paperwork. But once at her desk, she spent all her time staring at the photo of Jonathan Eastman curled up in the little bear’s bed.
Chapter 5
A week later, Rebecca took one last look out the window and nodded solemnly to Sara. Sara withdrew their “Closed Due to Rain” sign from her desk and left for the entrance. Rebecca watched her, disheartened. Another day of no profits. Another day closer to bankruptcy. While the treasure hunt had been an unequivocal success, the recent weather hindered their progress toward financial stability.
At least they wouldn’t lose any money. When they didn’t open, she didn’t have to pay the hourly employees. Only she and Sara were on full-time payroll.
But midway through the day as she nibbled on a peanut butter cracker, Rebecca decided to give herself a pay cut. She told herself that eating was overrated and made a note to stock up on boxed macaroni and cheese and cups of noodles on the way home.
She now spent most of her time wracking her brain for ways to save and make money. Winter was hard; it was tough to plan events without knowing what the weather would be like. They’d been lucky with the treasure hunt, but she didn’t know if their good fortune would hold. Still, she decided to go ahead with the annual Winter Festival. She lined up Birdie James to give a special performance of The Nutcracker and convinced Sara to play Santa Claus. She’d be the first in line to sit on Sara’s lap. She knew exactly what she wanted for Christmas—a reprieve.
Rebecca hadn’t seen Eastman since the treasure hunt. While her days were free of him, he infiltrated her dreams nightly. Twice, she’d dreamt they were married and living in New York, their lives an endless stream of walks in Central Park, Broadway shows, and doubleheaders at Yankee Stadium.
* * * *
Sara would turn twenty-one the day before Thanksgiving. Her friends were throwing her a dinner at a nearby restaurant, and she invited Rebecca to come. Rebecca had a sudden vision of herself as the old lady of the group, walking in with a cane and asking for prune juice instead of a cocktail. She attempted to decline, but the plaintive look on Sara’s face convinced her to give in.
Sara insisted on driving, so the two women headed out together after work. Rebecca tried not to let her anxiety show when Sara tailgated mercilessly and drove so fast she had to slam on the brakes each time she approached a red light. Rebecca gripped the edge of her seat. By the end of the ride, she tasted blood in her mouth from biting her lip. Yep, she was definitely getting old.
At the restaurant, once everyone had ordered and had drinks in front of them, Sara’s friend Sharon leaned in to Rebecca and asked, “So, what’s your story?”
“My story?” Rebecca repeated.
“Are you married?”
Rebecca shook her head.
“Boyfriend?”
Rebecca glanced at Sara, who gave her a sympathetic look but didn’t say anything. “No, no boyfriend, either.”
But she immediately thought of Jonathan Eastman. What would it be like to talk about him? To be his wife? To be going home to him after a night out? Before she knew it, she was playing out a domestic scenario in her head. They’d come home from work, share a cozy dinner, and curl up on the couch to watch TV.
Just as Rebecca was imagining giving Eastman a back rub, Sharon said, “Let’s open presents.”
She handed Sara a frilly box. Sara opened it and held up a pair of edible underwear and a package of flavored condoms. Rebecca halfheartedly joined in the laughter that spread around the table, but she soon grew quiet. The other presents, aside from her own basket of lotions and shampoos, consisted of racy lingerie and toys for the bedroom. Rebecca quashed an urge to fall to the floor and skulk away.
During dessert, an attractive man dressed in a cop uniform approached their table. He came over to Sara, told her she was being arrested, and clamped a pair of plastic handcuffs onto her wrists. He unbuttoned his shirt and threw it at the next table. He pulled an obliging Sara to her feet, and they gyrated for a number of minutes while the girls and customers at other tables shouted catcalls.
The stripper danced his way around the table, eventually arriving in front of Rebecca. Sharon shoved a dollar bill at her. “Come on, give it to him.”
Mortified, Rebecca slipped the bill into the G-string. The guy thanked her with a dimpled smile, and her embarrassment evaporated as she thought again of Jonathan Eastman. Before she knew it, she imagined him in a G-string, the two of them dancing, very close and very slow. When Sharon gave her a sidelong glance, she realized she’d been staring at the stripper a little too long. She turned her attention to her dessert, but was halfway through before it hit her that she was eating Sharon’s by mistake.
* * * *
The day after Thanksgiving, Rebecca and Sara were back in the office brainstorming how to decorate the park for the holiday season. With their limited budget, they decided to make some of the decorations and purchase the rest at a dollar discount store. Sara left to go check out the large pine that would serve as their Christmas tree, and when she returned, she had Jonathan Eastman in tow.
“Look who I found,” Sara said. She excused herself, giving Rebecca an unsubtle wink on the way out.
Jeans hugged Eastman’s muscular legs, and a blue cable-knit sweater picked up the color of his eyes. Rebecca remembered the fun they’d had at the treasure hunt and the gentle way he’d spoken to her about her safety concerns. Recalling Sara’s birthday dinner and her subsequent daydreams, her stomach tightened.
“How was your Thanksgiving, Rebecca? Did you have a nice time?”
The question didn’t register immediately—she still had the G-string image in her head. “Fine. It was good. Uneventful.”
“What did you do?”
“I went to my sister’s house. It was just myself and her family.”
“Sounds nice.”
Suddenly curious, Rebecca asked, “What did you do?”
“I helped out a bit at St. Joseph’s.”
“St. Joseph’s?”
“Yes, they feed the homeless a Thanksgiving meal.”
“I know that. It’s just…that’s what you did?” First the Boys and Girls Club and now this?
He laughed softly. “Breaking type, am I?”
“Yes…no…oh, I don’t know. Could you go now? I really need to get to work.”
“All right. I will leave you to it. See you soon.”
She watched him leave, realizing with a start that he hadn’t even mentioned ThemeWorld…what exactly was he up to? What kind of game was he playing now?
* * * *
The next day, the skies threatened to storm again, and Rebecca made the difficult decision to close the park. She sent Sara home after a couple of hours of paperwork and proceeded to spend way too much time staring out the window at the promised rain.
The weather cleared for a time in the afternoon, so she took some of the inexpensive decorations she’d picked up at the discount store and headed out to the pine tree. She’d decorated most of the lower branches when she decided she should just get the whole thing over with. She pulled a ladder out of the toolshed near her office and lugged it over to the tree. A handful of decorations in one hand, she climbed to the top rung. After taking care of the upper branches and settling a star at the very top, she leaned back to examine her handiwork. The ladder sw
ayed, and she strove to regain her balance. Just when she thought for sure she would fall, the ladder righted itself. She looked down. Eastman gripped the sides with his black leather gloves.
Summoning her dignity, she climbed down and turned to him. “Thank you. I would have been fine, though.”
He chuckled. “No, you really wouldn’t have been. You were about to fall and break your neck.”
“Hardly. How did you get in, anyway?”
“Someone left the gate unlocked.”
She considered. Sara had left her keys at home. Rebecca had meant to go up and lock the gate after her assistant left, but she’d lost herself in her thoughts and forgotten all about it. She made a mental note to be more careful from now on.
Rebecca sighed and asked the question she always seemed to be directing at him. “Why are you here?”
Eastman’s demeanor grew serious. “Rebecca, listen to me. You can’t do this kind of thing unless someone is with you. It’s dangerous. What if you’d fallen? Promise me you won’t do this again. Do it for me.”
Rebecca’s heart beat in double time as he came closer and wrapped his arms around her. His attention focused on her lips, and a shiver traveled down her spine.
Was he going to kiss her? He leaned in, eyes closed. He was going to kiss her! She realized she ached to feel his mouth on hers. She closed her eyes and prepared to kiss him back. But something tugged at the back of her mind. He was trying to take something away from her—what was it, again? That’s it—Storytown! She couldn’t kiss him. He was the enemy. Another cold go-getter just like Mark. She opened her eyes. His lips hovered over hers, and she stepped backwards out of the embrace, her legs wobbling.
She folded her arms against her chest. “I’m fine. I can take care of myself. You haven’t answered my question. Why are you here?”
His expression was tender. “No particular reason. Have a good rest of the day.”
He turned on his heel and left. Rebecca stared after him with her mouth gaping open.
* * * *
Rebecca tossed and turned half the night thinking about Storytown, or more accurately, Jonathan Eastman. She had very nearly kissed him today. She had to keep her head clear. A few more dimpled smiles, and she’d be handing over the park with a big red ribbon wrapped around it. She had to stay strong. She closed her eyes, but instead of sheep, she was soon counting Jonathan Eastmans, each one with his lips puckered up ready to kiss her.
Chapter 6
The next day, the inclement weather forced Rebecca to close the park yet again. At three, she took pity on Sara, who had spent much of the day filing, and sent her home.
Going over her spreadsheets for what seemed like the millionth time, Rebecca’s spirits sank to an all-time low. She couldn’t keep the park running like this. She was rapidly running out of money, and she was fresh out of ideas on how to make it work. She would lose the place she’d loved her whole life—her sanctuary. She bent her head to her desk and cried. A concerned Mittens jumped up next to her and nudged her face. She burrowed her head into his soft fur.
A knock sounded at the door, and Rebecca got up to flip aside the curtains and look through the window. Of course—Jonathan Eastman. She sighed and let him in.
“Rebecca? Are you all right? I can come back another day if it’s more convenient.” He reached for the doorknob.
“Wait,” she said. She chewed the inside of her cheek and asked, “Are you still willing to stick to our agreement? If I sell to you, you’ll work with me to keep the spirit of Storytown alive?” She hated herself for giving in and braced herself for his inevitable “I told you so.”
Eastman nodded thoughtfully, but no “I told you so’s” were forthcoming. He finally said, “Yes, that was the agreement. Do you have a few minutes now? Why don’t we go around, and I’ll fill you in on the ideas I’ve had.”
He led the way out into the park. The sun was shining now, and the rays illuminated the auburn highlights in his hair. Rebecca caught her breath. To stop herself from thinking about it, she looked down at the backs of his shoes.
Standing in the middle of the Poppy Field, Eastman said, “I was thinking we’d keep your existing areas and build from there. For example, here we are in The Wizard of Oz area.”
Rebecca nodded.
“We’ll get rid of the stage, this grassy area, and the merry-go-round, and build a bigger ride—a roller-coaster, perhaps. But we’d call it something like ‘The Wizotron.’“
Rebecca frowned. “The Wizotron? But other than the name, how does it tie in with The Wizard of Oz? Would the cars be shaped like characters or something like that?”
“No, that’s too juvenile.”
She shook her head. “That’s the point. It’s for children.”
“Rebecca, we’ve had this conversation before. Children these days are more mature than they used to be. They want a roller-coaster to be fast and scary, not cute.”
She sank down onto the grass, too late to realize it was still saturated from the rain. Deciding this was the least of her worries, she didn’t get up. “I don’t know. It just doesn’t sound like Storytown anymore.”
To her surprise, Eastman sat down on the ground next to her, though he wore a suit and tie. He grimaced when he hit the wet grass but didn’t object. “Does it really matter to you that much? You won’t own the park anymore.”
She glanced away. “I know. It’s just…this place is important to me. I feel like I’ve spent my whole life here.”
“I understand. There are places in Central Park I love because I went there as a child.”
“It’s not just that. I want other kids to have the same experience I had. Storytown is so…I don’t know, innocent, I guess.”
He nodded. “The bottom line is: if you decide to sell to us, this will be a ThemeWorld park. You could try to find a buyer who would keep Storytown exactly as it is, but these kinds of storybook parks are a dying breed. I think, like it or not, you have to start looking toward the future.”
She gazed into his blue eyes, grateful he was being fair with her. He might not be saying what she wanted to hear, but she knew it was the truth. “Okay,” she said. “I’m ready. Show me more.”
He stood and offered her his hand. He pulled her up, holding onto her hand longer than necessary. She gulped. Was he going to try to kiss her again? She didn’t think she would have the willpower to push him away this time.
“Let’s move over to the Cinderella area.” He released her hand and walked away. She stood frozen to the spot for a moment, and then hurried to catch up with him.
Fifteen minutes later, Rebecca felt completely discouraged. Eastman’s ideas were so radically different from hers. They retreated to the Jack Sprat Restaurant, where she made them cups of hot tea. They sat outside and sipped their drinks, not speaking for a number of minutes.
“Have you ever been to a ThemeWorld park?” Eastman asked.
“Yes, when I was a teenager.”
“What did you think?”
“It was…uh, big.”
“Did you have fun?”
“Honestly, no. But my friends did. And Sara went a few weeks ago and loved it.”
“Maybe you just didn’t do it right. I have to put in an appearance at the ThemeWorld down south on Tuesday—why don’t you come with me?”
The question set Rebecca’s heart racing. She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she just nodded her agreement.
* * * *
What in the world had she been thinking when she agreed to this? Rebecca pondered the question as she sat next to Eastman on their way to ThemeWorld SoCal. She felt she knew the answer, but she didn’t want to admit it, even to herself.
They’d been in the air for about thirty minutes, and Eastman had been very quiet. She looked to her left. His eyes kept closing as though he were about to fall asleep. She must be very interesting company indeed.
She skimmed through the women’s magazine she’d brought with her, but she couldn’t concen
trate on the diets and makeup tips. Something heavy brushed against her arm. Eastman had fallen asleep, and his head leaned firmly against her shoulder. The smell of his aftershave wafted up into her nostrils, and she inhaled. She gazed down at his silky hair and wondered if she dared to run her fingers through it. The temptation was overwhelming, so she reached over and lowered her hand. Just then, he let out a light snore, and she snapped her hand back, her heart pounding.
* * * *
Two hours later, Rebecca felt as though she’d recently returned from a jaunt through Wonderland with Alice. She never would have believed it, but she was enjoying ThemeWorld immensely. In addition to the many thrill rides, she and Eastman had gone on the giant carousel and attended a stage show. They’d found they both liked to drive their bumper cars around the edge of the rink rather than crash into the other vehicles. And they loved the double-armed Ferris wheel.
But Rebecca’s favorite ride so far was the one Sara had raved about. Just as Sara had said, it ascended high into the air and dropped back down at a sickening speed. She and Eastman had screamed with delight the whole way.
They were finishing their vintage car ride. They’d argued over who would drive, but Rebecca had prevailed.
“You’re a pretty good driver for a girl,” Eastman said as they drew up to the attendant.
She frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You haven’t tried to put on makeup. And you haven’t been looking in the rearview mirror at your hair….” He laughed, and she laughed back. Still, he needed to be punished for his sexist comments, so she socked him in the arm.
Storybook Love: A Storybook Park Romance Page 5