Chapter 8 #2
“I can’t stand anyone to get picked on or mocked.
The rage I felt that day was so overwhelming that I had no other thought but to hurt them.
Our principal, Mr. Mack, used the incident to teach me something: to not just dole out a punishment.
He was a kind man—looked like Santa—and he loved kids.
After he gave me an icepack for my hand, he asked me why I’d done it.
I told him about the weeks and weeks of harassment and that I just couldn’t take it any longer.
I had to defend my friend. He only nodded, without saying anything until I was done.
Then he told me how important it is to defend the defenseless, although resorting to violence wasn’t a great option.
He said, ‘Injustice is everywhere. Bullies too. What you have to decide is what you’re going to do to make a difference.
’ I’ll never forget it. I asked him to give me an example of something I could do instead.
He said, ‘Use your talents to figure out how to help those who need it.’ I had no idea what he meant.
But the next day, Pam told me the principal had arranged for a speech therapist to work with her.
It only took like six months before she could say all her sounds correctly. ”
“And that made you decide on speech pathology?” Jason asked.
“Not right then, obviously, but later, when I was trying to decide on a major in college, I thought about Pam and how much difference the therapist had made in her life.”
“Like me and Linda.”
“That’s right. And from the very first class, I knew it was the right thing.
I’ve always been a fixer. I like projects and solving hard things.
Other than the short time I wasn’t working when I was married to Chris, it’s been the one thing I could always count on to make the world make sense. One little boy or girl at a time.”
“And here I am, an actor. Totally self-absorbed and vain.”
She laughed. “That’s not true. You entertain and touch people’s hearts with your craft. There’s nothing to be ashamed about in that. In fact, you’re living just as Mr. Mack suggested—using your talent to make the world a better place.”
His chest warmed. “That’s nice of you to say. I will say, though, helping Ollie has been extremely satisfying. I keep seeing his little face, all trusting and earnest. It’s a privilege to be a part of it. So thanks for sharing it with me.”
“It’s generous of you, honestly. I don’t think most people in your situation would give their time to the Ollies of the world.”
“Then they’re missing out.” He took a sip of wine. “Do you think Ollie will get better?”
“I do. I couldn’t do this work if I didn’t believe he would.
And he started in therapy young. His family’s supportive.
He has me.” She smiled, shrugging a shoulder.
“And he said the spontaneous “dah” the other day. That was an absolutely amazing marker of improvement. I can’t say for sure, but the odds are in his favor. ”
“Because of you, mostly.”
“That’s sweet, but not really true. That said, kids like Ollie give my life purpose.
As trite as it sounds, even on lonely days, I know I’ve done my best to try to make someone else’s journey easier.
” She reached over to brush a crumb from his chin.
“But enough about that. Tell me about Prague and this role.”
For the next few minutes Jason told her about the script and his role in it.
“It’s a movie about a man looking for his wife who disappeared one morning.
The authorities all dismiss him, thinking she just left him.
But he knows deep down that she would never do that because she loves him. So he sets out to find her himself.”
He held up a piece of bread slathered with butter. “I really shouldn’t be eating this. They don’t want me showing up to set fat and happy. Lean and mean is what they want. But Aunt Grace’s bread is too good.”
“Do you have to have your shirt off in any scenes?”
He laughed. “There are a few times, yeah. Why do you ask?”
“No reason. But you do have a weird job.” She smiled, looking out the windows that were damp with condensation, imagining Jason bare-chested. She’d pay whatever the ticket price was to see that. .
“It’s kind of funny, though. I never thought I’d play the muscle guy.”
“Why not?”
“Roan was the athlete. My cousins too. I was the odd man out, preferring books and theatre to sports. Fortunately, I don’t have to actually be agile and athletic to play the part.
I just have to look right. And yeah, you’re right.
I have a weird job. But it feels like the only thing I’ve ever been good at.
Without it, I don’t know who I am. Or maybe I’d go back to who I was.
The kid with the stutter who avoided speaking unless spoken to. The kid chosen last for a team.”
She didn’t say anything, just nodded.
“Playing other people has always been easier than being myself.”
“We all create ways to cope with whatever happens to us,” Mauve said.
“Like your distrust of Christmas?”
“Yes, I suppose so.” She placed the palm of her hand on the sleeve of his sweater. He felt the heat of her skin even through the cashmere. “What do you want going forward?” Mauve asked. “Like what would the perfect career look like to you?”
“Mostly I just want to keep working. In roles I enjoy and that challenge me. And I want to be good. Respected by my peers. Popular with fans, so I keep getting offers. There’s the money part of it too. Growing up with a single mom made me hungry.”
“I can understand that. Money was tight in our family too. My dad worked at an auto repair place. Mom took odd jobs sometimes.” Her eyes glazed over for a second before she looked back at him.
“I just remembered something. There were years and years when my mom took a temporary job at a department store during the holidays. She worked long hours all throughout the season. Which meant my sister and I were kind of on our own. We never put a tree up until a few days before Christmas because she was always working. My dad was a full-blown Grinch, so we never did any Christmas activities. No skating or hot chocolate or visits to the gingerbread house competition.”
The more he got to know her, the more he came to understand how complex her feelings were about the holidays.
Not everyone was lucky enough to have a family like Grace and Walter’s.
Too many were faced with loneliness or financial problems or loss.
It wasn’t like the movies on television his mother had loved when she was alive.
She’d watched her favorites every year without fail.
Stories full of heart and hope had been her favorites.
“No wonder you have a strained relationship with Christmas,” Jason said.
“I thought it was all related to Chris, but maybe there’s more to it.”
“It also helps me to understand why you’re so attached to Sugarville Grove.”
“You think I’m searching for what I didn’t have as a kid?” Mauve asked. “Tree lightings? Carolers popping up around town? The annual snowball fight? Until I moved here, I didn’t know stuff like that actually happened or that there were towns like Sugarville Grove.”
“This town’s always been in love with Christmas.”
“I wonder how all the traditions started?”
“We should ask Kris,” Jason said. “He knows everything that happens or happened in this town.”
Kris Olaffson was not only the postman and town gossip, he also played Santa every Christmas.
Out at Max’s country store, Santa’s Village came to life and Kris was right there to enact the part of everyone’s favorite fat man.
Aunt Grace said people lined up on the weekends for their chance to talk to Santa.
By then, they’d had their fill of dinner. However, they still had room for some of the dark chocolate Grace had left for them.
They’d just finished the last of it when they heard bells coming back through the meadow, faint at first, then closer.
“It’s time to go,” Jason said.
“I wish we could stay here forever, but reality’s returned,” Mauve said, getting up from the table.
“Yes, unfortunately.”
They didn’t talk as they donned their jackets and hats for the cold journey back to the car. Jason tied his scarf around Mauve’s neck, and it smelled like him. She wished she could keep it forever.
He looked into her eyes, then kissed her. “Thanks for making a new, wonderful memory of this place.”
“Thank you for bringing me here. I’ll never forget it.”
Jason stoked the stove down for safety, and they stepped outside just as the sleigh came to a halt in front of the shack. Hank tipped his cap.
“Don’t get down,” Jason said to him. “It’s cold for the horses, so we’ll hustle.”
He helped Mauve into the sleigh, then ran around to his side. Soon, they were snuggled back under the blankets, the purple sky above them alit with stars so sharp they might have cut glass.
“The sky’s not like this in L.A.” Jason said, almost to himself.
“It’ll always be here for you. Whenever you need it.”
The sky remained no matter how long he was away.
But people? Family? They kept moving forward without him, so that by the time he returned they had no use for him.
He would lose Mauve, probably sooner than later.
A woman like her didn’t stay single for long.
He couldn’t expect her to wait for December to come again.
There were eleven other months in the year, and she wanted a man who was around for all of them.
As much as he wished he were built for domesticity and small town life—he wasn’t. Maybe if he’d had a father or a mother who had lived past forty, he might have turned out differently. But the facts were the facts. They had made him who he was.
Which meant one thing. This game he was playing during the month of December was bound to hurt them both. He had a feeling, however, that he was the one who would suffer most in the end.