Mr. 365 (17 page)

He sighs. “Not yet.”

“Please don’t worry. Lindsey knows how to handle him.”

“So you’ll stay out of it?” he asks.

I can hear the earnestness in his voice and see the worried look in his eyes.

“Yes, I will.”

“You promise?”

I take his hand in mine. “I promise. Thank you for wanting to protect me. That’s a noble thing, even though I can take care of myself.”

“I care about you more than you realize. I can’t let anything happen to you.”

I smile and rub my fingers over the top of his hand. “So this is a side of you I haven’t seen before,” I say softly.

He looks at our joined hands. “I wish you’d never seen that side. In my wise old age I’ve tried to outgrow it.”

I laugh. “Yeah, you’re
so
old.”

He sighs. “But our past always catches up with us, doesn’t it?” He has a troubled, dazed look in his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“As I mentioned before, I was pretty wild when I was young—especially in high school.”

“Yeah?” I say, not sharing that Steph has already told me a little about his rough years. I want him to feel comfortable enough to tell me himself and know I won’t run for the hills.

“I made some bad choices and even ended up in juvie for six months. If Grandpa Joe hadn’t gotten involved, I’d probably be in prison now.”

“What did you do to end up locked up for six months?”

“I beat up a guy so badly I could’ve killed him. He was threatening my girl,” he says.

“Are you exaggerating? Seriously…
could have killed
?”

His face blanches. “Believe me, I’m serious.”

“Well do me a big favor and please don’t kill your neighbor. Visiting my boyfriend in prison isn’t exactly on my bucket list.”

“No, I guess not.” He fights back a smile.

“What?” I ask, sensing his shift in mood.

“You called me your boyfriend.”

I blush. “I did, didn’t I?”

“You sure did. And don’t give me that
you’re a man and you’re a friend stuff.”

“Does that mean you don’t find the idea of being my boyfriend disagreeable?”

“Disagreeable? On the contrary, I’m all for that idea…
girlfriend
.” He gives me a crooked smile.

He leans forward and kisses me chastely as he casts his gaze down.

“What was that halfhearted kiss all about? That’s not like you at all.” I take his chin in my hand, encouraging him to look at me.

“My past doesn’t scare you? I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried that you’d second guess dating me after hearing all of that.”

“Will, I wasn’t a perfect teen either, even though you can’t really compare shoplifting to attempted murder; still neither one of us was perfect.”

“Shoplifting, really?”

“What can I say? It wasn’t one of my better choices. I’ve never been good at not getting the things I really want.”

He nods.

“I believe in living in the moment, and not basing how we move forward always on what happened in the past,” I say.

He pulls me into his arms. “I’m relieved. Telling you about that has weighed heavily on me.”

“So can we seal the deal? Can I get a real Will kiss now?”

I watch him as he slowly brushes his fingertips across my lips.

“Ready?” he whispers.

“Sure am,” I say with a sweet smile.

The kiss is soft and slow and perfect. I feel the tingle all the way to my toes, the same toes that a moment later feel something slobbery wet roll over them.

Romeo has just offered his ball as part of our love fest, his tail wagging furiously.

“She’s mine, dude,” Will says, patting his head. “But if you’re good I’ll share her once and a while.”

Over the next few days, Will and I get together whenever we can. It’s not as frequent as I’d like since I’m busy at True Blue with endless scheduling and production meetings. Meanwhile he deals with a leaky roof from the big storm and a pile of other chores. By the weekend, we’re ready for a break. On Saturday I bring over lunch, and when we’re done we decide to take Romeo to the dog park.

Will gathers the leash, ball, and dog treats. The minute Romeo sees the leash he barks at the back door and then the truck door until he’s loaded inside. Will secures him in his car seat that tethers him to the seatbelt so he can stick his head out the window. I get to snuggle in between Romeo and Will.

I fasten my seatbelt and turn to Romeo “Excited are we?”

He barks happily and whines at the window until Will rolls down the glass.

“That dog seems part human at times. I wonder what he’d say if he could talk.”

Will laughs. “Oh, he’d say plenty. When I was deciding which dog to take home from the shelter, he just kept barking at me until I chose him. Well, it wasn’t barking, exactly. That would’ve annoyed me. It was these weird sounds he makes when he’s trying to get my attention.

“You were meant to be together. I’m sure of it.”

After we drive a few blocks, Will spots Hank rummaging through a recycling bin. His shopping cart is overflowing with bags of cans and bottles.

“Trash day is a working day for Hank,” Will comments. “I thought we might see him today.”

He drives alongside him.

At first Hank jumps a little and his eyes get wide when we pull up. Not everyone is okay with the homeless in the area picking through their recycling bins, but when he recognizes us, he relaxes.

He walks right up to Romeo’s window, reaches in, and rubs him under his chin.

“How’s my little friend,” he says as Romeo leans into his hands appreciatively.

“Hey, Will. I was hoping I’d see you.” He turns to me and smiles. “And good to see you again, Miss Sophia.”

I wave. “Hi, Hank. It’s good to see you again too.”

“Are you guys still okay for setup Wednesday? I’m sorry again about the rain delay.”

Hank shakes his head. “Stupid rain. I shouldn’t complain. It doesn’t rain much here but when it does, it messes everything up.”

I imagine that for all my complaining when it rains or we have a heat wave, I don’t have to endure anything like people who live on the street do.

Will reaches for his wallet. “Let me give you some of your pay in advance.”

Hank holds out his hand. “No need, but thanks anyway. Do you know those crazy people you said wanted to interview me just to talk about you?”

Will and I smirk at the crazy reference.

“They gave me a hundred bucks! That’s the easiest money I’ve ever learned. We didn’t even talk ten minutes.”

“Was it okay? Were they polite and everything?” Will asks.

“Sure, it was easy because they just wanted to talk about you. And don’t worry, I told ’em you weren’t an ass.” He chuckles.

“Well, that’s a relief. Thanks.”

“I’m joking. Actually I told ’em the truth—that you’re the best man I know.”

“Sounds like I should give you a bonus for lying on my behalf.”

“Oh, you stop now. I mean it.” Hank turns to me. “He is.”

I take Will’s hand in mine. “I agree.”

“Enough of the Will fan club,” Will says, putting the car into gear.

“Are you taking the little man to the dog park?” Hank asks.

“Yup, so we’re going to head out.”

“Have fun. And nice to see you again, Miss Sophia.”

“Likewise, Hank.”

I hold Will’s right hand as he steers with his left and think about the contrast of Will the angry protector versus Will the kind friend to the homeless. I sense life will never be dull as long as I’m with him.

At the dog park, Romeo gets busy checking out all the female dogs.

“He has a favorite, but I don’t think she’s here today.”

“Yeah? Please, please tell me her name is Juliet!”

“Nope. Desdemona, but they call her Desi.”

“Geez! Well they must make quite a pair.”

“She’s a purebred Irish setter, easily twice the little guy’s size, but he pays no mind to that. You should see them try to go at it. We have to constantly pull them apart as they frown on that stuff at the dog park.”

I laugh, imagining it. “Poor Romeo, never satisfied.”

“Well, not for a lack of trying.”

“Speaking of Irish things, I’ve been thinking of going to Ireland next summer,” I say, testing the waters.

“Wow, Ireland? You’re quite a traveler. Have you always been that way?”

“Oh no, my parents couldn’t afford big trips with a larger family and four kids to put through college, but I think I was born with wanderlust. As soon as I scraped the money together, I started traveling the world. It’s one of the reasons I work so hard… to fund my trips.”

“Who are you going with? And it better not be that Marcos dude,” he says warily.

“No. So far I’m going by myself, but I know this really handsome man that I may invite. I bet he’d be really fun to hang out in pubs with.”

Romeo runs over to check in. Will throws his tennis ball half the length of the park, and the little guy takes off after it.

“That’d be cool. I’d love to go to Ireland with you.”

“Great.” I feel excited just thinking about it.

“My tattoo has Irish origins.”

“It does?”

“Yeah, it’s a Celtic symbol called a Dara Knot from the Irish word for oak tree.” He lifts up his sleeve a little higher.

“I’ve wanted to ask what it meant,” I say, running my fingers over it gently.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I was afraid it was for an old girlfriend or something, and then I’d go from admiring it to resenting it.”

He lifts his eyebrows. “I still don’t believe you’re the jealous type.”

“Oh, I am. And… I’m a bit possessive, too.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“So what does the symbol mean?”

“It’s a reminder that like a tree’s roots, we have vast inner resources under the surface that can lend wisdom and stability no matter what shit is going down around us. That idea has gotten me through some rough times.”

I smile. “I bet it has. You’re amazing. And as for your tattoo, I like it even more.”

T
uesday in the production meeting at work, I learn that the one time I’d like my schedule to ease up, it’s jam-packed. “What do you mean I have to do a shoot over Thanksgiving in Massachusetts? What about my Thanksgiving?” I ask. My parents are going to have a fit, and I’d been thinking about asking Will come home with me.

“You have to go during Thanksgiving as this subject, Dorothy, doesn’t want to recreate her major production another time.”

“We’ll be filming her actual Thanksgiving?” I ask, not hiding the skepticism in my voice. “There’s no way that’s going to work.”

“Sophia,” Rachel says in her calm, controlling voice. “She does an authentic Plymouth Rock recreation and meal for fifty-three people. There’ll be lots to work with.”

“Fifty-three! She must be psychotic. When will this nightmare air anyway? Thanksgiving a year from now?”

“George has this all figured out. He’s creating multiple uses for our footage,” says Rachel.

“Always the economist,” Paul adds.

“For example, Will’s Christmas segment will air the weekend of Thanksgiving, and a much shorter piece of it will be part of the mixed holiday celebration that comes out the week before Christmas.”

“I really wanted to be home for Thanksgiving weekend.” I huff.

Lindsey folds her arms and slumps in her seat. “Join the club. I have to be in fucking Toronto that weekend. My mom’s going to kill me for missing her favorite family holiday.”

“That sucks,” I say to Lindsey.

“We both have to be in Malcolm, Georgia, in early November for the Easter lady,” continues Lindsey.

“Yes, she sounds especially colorful. Did you read her file? She’s bedazzled every Easter thing she could get her hands on.” I’m less than enthused.

“Bedazzled like a rhinestone queen. And let us not forget the overweight husband who wears a fur bunny suit. But who am I kidding? Who could forget that? It’s burned in my memory like a bad dream,” says Lindsey.

“Chubby hubby probably terrorizes the little kids,” Paul says.

“I bet he’s one of those furry freaks who get off wearing fur costumes head to toe. Being the Easter Bunny lets him think his kinky obsession is legit,” says Lindsey.

“Should I feel bad that we’re making fun of all of these people?” I ask.