Status: Finished
Matt Sanders
06
A little while later, in the house, getting dinner ready--hot dogs and a salad--he said to Ace, in his I-just-had-this-great-idea voice, "Ace, what would you think of a trip to Disneyland over Christmas?"
The truth was, he expected at least the exuberant dance that shopping trip with Aubree Dawson had elicited. Instead, there was silence.
He turned from the pot on the stove after prodding a frozen hot dog with a ford, as if that would get it to cook quicker, and looked at his daughter.
Ace was getting her bun ready, lots of ketchup and relish, not dancing around at all. today she was wearing her new skirt, the red one with the white pom-poms on the hem. She looked adorable. he hoped that didn't mean boys would start coming by here. No, surely that worry was years away.
"Disneyland?" he said, wondering if she was daydreaming and hadn't heard him.
"Oh, Daddy," she said with a sigh of long suffering in her you're so silly voice. I have to be in The Christmas Angel. It's on Christmas Eve. It's on TV, live. I should phone Grandma and Grandpa and tell them I'm going to be on TV."
Then in case he was getting any other bright ideas, she told him firmly, "And I don't want to go after, either. Suzzie is having a skating party on Boxing Day. I hope I get new skates for Christmas. When am I going to see Santa?"
He was pretty sure Ace and Suzzie had been mortal enemies a week ago. So, Aubree had been right. Superficial or not, the clothes helped. His daughter was having a good week.
That was worth something. So was the light in her eyes when she talked about being on television.
Matt made a promise as soon as Santa set up at the store they would go, and then he made a mental note about the skates. Then once she was in bed, he took the permission slip, signed it and shoved it into Ace's backpack.
it didn't feel like nearly the concession it should have. He told himself it had nothing to do with Aubree Dawson and everything to do with Ace.
An hour after Ace was in bed, his phone rang. It was Huntington's Mayor, he needed people to work at the set of The Christmas Angel, and would he consider doing it?
Before Aubree arrived this afternoon his answer would have been curt and brief.
Now he was aware he did not want to be a man indifferent to the hopes and dreams of his neighbors.
What had she said? I don't think you are the wrong man to trust, I think you just wish you were.
It irked him that she was right. He should say no to this request just to spite her. But he didn't.
Towns were strange places. Centuries old feuds were put aside when tragedy struck.
Four generations of Sanders' had owned this studio and as far as Matt could tell they'd always been working with music. They didn't go to church, or belong to the PTA or the numerous Huntington service clubs. Hardworking but hell-raising, they were always on the fringe of the community. His family, David's, and Valery's.
And yet, when David had died, the town had given him the hero's send-off that he deserved.
And their support had been even more pronounced after Valery had died. Matt's neighbors had gathered around him in ways he would have never expected. A minister at a church he had never been to had offered to do the service; there had not been enough seats for everyone who came to his wife's funeral.
People who he would have thought did not know of his existence--like the man who had just phoned him--had been there for him and for Ace unconditionally, wanting nothing in return, not holding his bad temper or his need to deal with his grief alone against him.
Sometimes, still, he came to the house from his studio to find an anonymous casserole at the door, or fresh-baked cookies, or a brand new toy or outfit for Ace.
At first it had been hard for him to accept, but at some time Matt had realized it wasn't charity. It was something deeper than that. it was why people chose to live in communities. To know they were cared about, that whether you want it or not, your neighbors had your back.
And you didn't just keep taking that. In time, when you were ready, you offered it back.
Matt wasn't really sure if he was ready, but somehow it felt as if it was time to find out. And so that awareness of "something deeper" was how he found himself saying yes to the volunteer job of helping build sets.
Since the school auditorium was the only venue big enough to host The Christmas Angel, Matt knew it was going to put him together again with Aubree Dawson. He knew it was inevitable that their lives were becoming intertwined. Whether he liked it or not.
And for a man who had pretty established opinions on what he liked and what he didn't, Matt Sanders was a little distressed to find he simply didn't know if he liked it or not.
The truth was, he expected at least the exuberant dance that shopping trip with Aubree Dawson had elicited. Instead, there was silence.
He turned from the pot on the stove after prodding a frozen hot dog with a ford, as if that would get it to cook quicker, and looked at his daughter.
Ace was getting her bun ready, lots of ketchup and relish, not dancing around at all. today she was wearing her new skirt, the red one with the white pom-poms on the hem. She looked adorable. he hoped that didn't mean boys would start coming by here. No, surely that worry was years away.
"Disneyland?" he said, wondering if she was daydreaming and hadn't heard him.
"Oh, Daddy," she said with a sigh of long suffering in her you're so silly voice. I have to be in The Christmas Angel. It's on Christmas Eve. It's on TV, live. I should phone Grandma and Grandpa and tell them I'm going to be on TV."
Then in case he was getting any other bright ideas, she told him firmly, "And I don't want to go after, either. Suzzie is having a skating party on Boxing Day. I hope I get new skates for Christmas. When am I going to see Santa?"
He was pretty sure Ace and Suzzie had been mortal enemies a week ago. So, Aubree had been right. Superficial or not, the clothes helped. His daughter was having a good week.
That was worth something. So was the light in her eyes when she talked about being on television.
Matt made a promise as soon as Santa set up at the store they would go, and then he made a mental note about the skates. Then once she was in bed, he took the permission slip, signed it and shoved it into Ace's backpack.
it didn't feel like nearly the concession it should have. He told himself it had nothing to do with Aubree Dawson and everything to do with Ace.
An hour after Ace was in bed, his phone rang. It was Huntington's Mayor, he needed people to work at the set of The Christmas Angel, and would he consider doing it?
Before Aubree arrived this afternoon his answer would have been curt and brief.
Now he was aware he did not want to be a man indifferent to the hopes and dreams of his neighbors.
What had she said? I don't think you are the wrong man to trust, I think you just wish you were.
It irked him that she was right. He should say no to this request just to spite her. But he didn't.
Towns were strange places. Centuries old feuds were put aside when tragedy struck.
Four generations of Sanders' had owned this studio and as far as Matt could tell they'd always been working with music. They didn't go to church, or belong to the PTA or the numerous Huntington service clubs. Hardworking but hell-raising, they were always on the fringe of the community. His family, David's, and Valery's.
And yet, when David had died, the town had given him the hero's send-off that he deserved.
And their support had been even more pronounced after Valery had died. Matt's neighbors had gathered around him in ways he would have never expected. A minister at a church he had never been to had offered to do the service; there had not been enough seats for everyone who came to his wife's funeral.
People who he would have thought did not know of his existence--like the man who had just phoned him--had been there for him and for Ace unconditionally, wanting nothing in return, not holding his bad temper or his need to deal with his grief alone against him.
Sometimes, still, he came to the house from his studio to find an anonymous casserole at the door, or fresh-baked cookies, or a brand new toy or outfit for Ace.
At first it had been hard for him to accept, but at some time Matt had realized it wasn't charity. It was something deeper than that. it was why people chose to live in communities. To know they were cared about, that whether you want it or not, your neighbors had your back.
And you didn't just keep taking that. In time, when you were ready, you offered it back.
Matt wasn't really sure if he was ready, but somehow it felt as if it was time to find out. And so that awareness of "something deeper" was how he found himself saying yes to the volunteer job of helping build sets.
Since the school auditorium was the only venue big enough to host The Christmas Angel, Matt knew it was going to put him together again with Aubree Dawson. He knew it was inevitable that their lives were becoming intertwined. Whether he liked it or not.
And for a man who had pretty established opinions on what he liked and what he didn't, Matt Sanders was a little distressed to find he simply didn't know if he liked it or not.
♠ ♠ ♠
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