Mr. 365 (7 page)

Will parks in front of my place and walks around to open my door. When I get out, he rests his hand on my shoulder and gazes down at me. “Thank you for asking about Hank and wanting to listen to my story. It means a lot to me.”

“Of course,” I say.

“It’s not pretty, but Hank’s situation and what I went through is a reality that’s part of the world we live in.”

I look into his eyes and find pain there. The mood is so much more somber than earlier in our non-date.

He gazes me intently before continuing, “And it’s a part of my life and experience, so I’m kind of glad you know that now.”

At my front door he brushes his fingers along my jaw, cups my chin with his hand, and kisses me gently.

I don’t ask him in, nor does he ask. Instead we kiss sweetly as I settle into his arms. When we part my expression’s happy.

“What?” he asks, smiling.

“I like hanging out with you.”

He sighs and hugs me tight. “And me with you.”

He kisses me again and then pulls away from me with a long sigh. “I better get going. I’ve got to get up bright and early to get the house ready for this shoot thing that’s happening next week.”

“Is that so?” I tease.

“Yup. I’ve got this crush on this pushy producer I’m working with, so I’ve gotta keep her happy.”

I swoon at the word
crush
.
This man,
I sigh. In this moment he’s almost perfect even with his imperfections.

“Then, you’d better get a good night’s sleep. Those producers can get sooo demanding.”

“But there are advantages to this plan. You know what comes with good sleep?” He asks, running his hand firmly down my back and stopping just below my waist.

“What?” I ask as I close my eyes and imagine him stretched out across a bed—preferably naked, or perhaps just with a thin sheet draped over him.

“Dreams,” he whispers in my ear, before easing me against him. “And I’ll be dreaming about you close to me like this.”

My resolve to be good almost crumbles with our final kiss, but he steps away and waits as I let myself inside. Just before I close the door, he rests his hand across on the wooden surface for a moment before whispering, “Sweet dreams, Sophia.”

T
he next morning I wake up and wonder what I’m going to do about Will. Clearly I’m doing a number on myself when a date that was supposed to be work related was romantic. I brush my fingers over my lips when I remember our kisses and the way he held me when he whispered good night.

How can a man be so amazing and hard to figure out at the same time? The only thing I know for sure is that despite my reserve about his extreme obsession with Christmas, I’m crazy about this guy. I resolve to try harder to stay low key until we are done with the shoot, but the closer we get the harder it will be for me to stay professional during production.

My phone rings just after lunch. Anxiously hoping it’s him, I dig through my purse to find it.

“Hi, Sophia,” he says, his voice a combination of creamy dreamy and sexy smooth.

I immediately let go of all my reservations as I melt into my armchair.

“Hey, how’s it going?” I ask.

“Pretty good. Steph brought over a bunch of Christmas-loving sorority sisters, and among other things, they’ve transformed the kitchen and breakfast room into Santa’s workshop. Romeo was in heaven when they showed up. I finally had to lock him outside.”

“There are a bunch of sorority girls decorating your house?” I ask, sounding uneasy and wondering what “other things” he’s referring to.

“Yes. Frankly, I’d be screwed without them with the first day of shooting next week. A few of them are coming back tomorrow. My friend, Jeremy, came by to help, but he’s acting like Romeo and trying to hook up rather than doing any meaningful work.”

There’s radio silence for a moment as I come to terms with the disturbing visuals in my head. A scene with a bevy of scantily clad co-eds fawning over Will as they primp his fantastical home unfolds in my mind. I squirm with discomfort.

“I think I’ll come help tomorrow too.”

“You don’t have to,” he says.

“Don’t you want me to?”
Is there a reason he doesn’t want me there?

“It’s not that…”

“So, what is it?”

“Maybe, I want to
wow
you when you see it finished next week?”

“I bet all those sorority girls want to
wow
you too,” I say, my voice edgier than usual.

“Are you jealous?” he asks, amused.

“Should I be?”

“Sophia?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re already under my skin, woman. You’re all I see, all I think about.” He pauses for a moment and then adds, “Don’t you realize what you’re doing to me?”

“Of course I do,” I say, my voice low and sweet. “Because you’re doing the same thing to me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, and mark my words, I’m coming over tomorrow. I’m going to have those girls understand they can finish their work and go on their way. I’m the one who stays.”

“Promise?” I can almost hear his smile in his words.

“Girl Scout’s honor.”

The group plans a later start the next day, so Will invites me to breakfast at Dupars with the plan to meet Hank afterward. It’s astounding to watch Will polish off bacon, eggs, and a stack of pancakes before I’ve barely started my half order of French toast. The man can eat.

Afterward we drive around the streets where Will typically finds Hank. Not far from Western and Third Street, Will pulls his truck over.

An older man with a kind face approaches us. Hank’s expression brightens as he gets close to Will’s window.

“Hey Will, I was hoping I’d see you today.” He glances at me and smiles timidly.

“Yeah, Hank. I wanted you to meet Sophia. She’s a TV producer, and I’m working with her on a show about my Christmas house.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss Sophia,” Hank says, bowing his head.

“Nice to meet you too, Hank,” I reply.

“So, Hank, I’ve got a job for you,” Will says.

“Anything.”

“We need to set up the yard early this year for this show. We have to do it this Thursday morning around nine. You guys up for it? I’ll pay you like always and pick up lunch.”

“Sure. Five guys again?” Hank asks.

“Yeah, and you can supervise on the ground and be the only one handling the lights, okay? I’ll be doing the ones on the roof.”

“Sounds good,” Hank says, standing up straighter and squaring his shoulders. He looks like a guy ready to work.

Will picks up a little box from Dupars and hands it to him through the window. “We got you something at breakfast.”

Hank brushes off his hands before he accepts the box. I note the effort Hank has put into taking care of himself despite his situation. His clothes are clean and somehow he’s shaved and his short hair is combed. From a distance you wouldn’t even suspect he’s homeless.

“Is this what I think it is?” Hank asks, smiling.

“Your favorite—blueberry. Fresh out of the oven too.”

Hank opens the box and sniffs the muffin. A huge grin spreads across his face. Tucked next to the muffin is a folded ten dollar bill.

“Thanks so much, Will. Hey, let me do your windows. They could use a shine.” Hank offers.

“Nah, man, I’ve got to get Sophia home and then back to the house. Besides, you should eat that muffin warm.” He nods to the McDonald’s to their right. “Head over to Mickey D’s and get that coffee you like.”

“I think I will. It’s good to meet you, Miss Sophia.”

“Likewise, Hank,” I answer, smiling.

He holds up his box. “Bless you, Will.”

Will nods. “Take it easy, Hank. We’ll see you soon.”

As we continue toward my apartment, I think about Will’s conversation with Hank.

“And they help you every year?” I ask, curious how Will has developed relationships with Hank and his friends.

“Yeah,” Will says.

“How did Hank came to live on the street? He seems like the kind of man who would have family to help him out.”

“Well, Hank worked in maintenance for years at Boeing before they shut down and his life started sliding downhill. When I first met him he was living in subsidized housing after not being able to find work, losing his home, and being flattened by a mountain of medical bills after his wife died. But he hated that subsidized place, got into a big fight with his neighbor, and was thrown out.”

“He doesn’t have any family left to help him? I ask, feeling overwhelmed by his situation.

“He has a daughter and she keeps arranging shelters and stuff for him, but he says he likes it better on his own than being there. Meanwhile she lives in New York City and wants him to come live with her.”

“Why doesn’t he do that?”

“I guess she has a roommate and they share a tiny apartment. On top of that, Hank says he can’t handle New York.”

“How awful. That’s such a sad story.”

“There’s a lot of stories out there on the streets that are much more complicated than people think. It’s not just drug addicts, the mentally ill, or lazy people.”

His comment plants an idea in my mind for my own documentary short film project. Maybe I could get Aaron and some of the guys on board. For a fleeting moment I envision it all in my mind and wonder if meeting Will might lead to a greater purpose in my life.

The next day, it’s just past noon when I approach Will’s front door and ring the bell.

He pulls open the door with a smile. “My afternoon just got a whole lot better. Did you finish your work at home?”

“Yes. Sorry, it took longer than I thought but look what I brought for you.” I hold out a platter of cupcakes I baked yesterday for the occasion.

“For me?” he asks, grinning.

I scrunch my nose. “And those
girls
in there helping you.”

He takes the platter in his right hand as he gives me a one-armed hug with the other. I curl up against him and tilt my face up for a kiss.

“You’re a sweetheart. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” It feels so good to be close to him, to have his lips pressed against mine. “I’ve been looking forward to that,” I whisper.

“Me too. You have great timing. You’re saving me,” he says, leading me into the house.

I arch my brow. “From what exactly?”

“An eager helper. Her name is Liza, and she just asked if I was interested in renting her a room. She said she’d cook for me.”

“Oh, really? By all means, I’d
love
to meet her.”

He grins even wider. “This should be interesting.”

Once inside, Will sets the cupcakes in the kitchen. I’m impressed by the transformation of this room into Santa’s Sweet Shop. There are large glass apothecary jars full of colorful candies lined up against the back of the counters and elaborate gingerbread houses on every surface. There are even lights shaped like little peppermints lining the windows.

Room by room, Will shows me the rest of the house, checks the progress, and introduces me to everyone. We come across a couple unpacking ornaments in the sunroom. The guy notices Will’s holding my hand as we approach. Will introduces us.

“This is Jeremy and Susi.”

Jeremy speaks up before Will can finish. “You must be Sophia,” he says, shaking my hand.

I’m pleased Jeremy knows who I am. “Great to meet you both.”

From the looks of it Jeremy has taken an interest in Susi, and the feeling seems mutual.

“Hey, Will. Do you know that Susi drives a vintage Mustang she rebuilt with her dad?”

Susi beams with pride.

“I didn’t. How cool.”

We learn that Susi has a passion for performance cars and vintage pinups, which explains her extra short shorts and Betty Page hairdo. According to Will, that also pretty much makes her Jeremy’s dream girl.

She smiles at me. “Are you here to help too? There’s still so much to do.” She turns to Will. “I hope you can get it done in time for the TV people.”

“Well, Sophia’s the producer of the show, so I bet he’ll make sure it gets done in time,” Jeremy says, laughing.

Will wraps his hand around my waist and pulls me closer into his side. “She’s a taskmaster for sure, but I bet she’ll be a good helper.”

“I am, and I baked cupcakes for everyone. They’re in the kitchen if you want one.”