Santa's Secret

Dominic and Gio join us in time for the national anthem. Gio’s excited and asks the arena photographer to take our photo. I’m sure for him, being away from his mayoral duties for the night is a reprieve.

Within seconds of the puck dropping, the Bruins score. A majority of the fans cheer, while the rest boo.

“Boston is a tough crowd,” Calvin yells into my ear.

“It’s the rivalry. If you have time, you should have Delaney take you to Montreal. The city is beautiful. It’s a bit cold, but there’s an underground walkthrough, which has shops and restaurants to check out. The Cathedral is a sight to behold during the holidays.”

“She mentioned something about going iceskating at Rockefeller Center.”

“Sounds like Delaney. She loves to skate.”

“So I’ve been told. I think skating extends my guard duty into hazard pay. I believe there has to be some rule about a man my size being on blades.”

I point to defenseman Zdeno Chára. “If he can do it, so can you, big guy.”

Calvin gives me a side glare, making me laugh. I need this, though. I need to feel like I’m free from the stress, even if it’s for a few hours.

Seventeen

Delaney

The uneasy feeling I had the other night when I was with my mom, Mindy and Eileen hasn’t gone away. I find myself looking over my shoulder even with Calvin by my side. I haven’t told him about the encounter mostly because I feel like I could be overreacting. Maybe the man was harmless, and I misinterpreted the way he was gazing at me. I’m an actress; it’s my job to be overdramatic at times.

If Calvin doesn’t quit today, he will by the end of the month with all the random things I have planned. When I was growing up, I always worked the local tree stand, helping people find the right tree for them. At first, my job was to clean up and direct people, then it changed to taking payments and helping them carry trees to their car. I’ve always been too short to help anyone strap their tree down, but Dominic, Aiden or any one of their friends would be around to help.

Today, it’s Calvin. As he stands there in the front of my rental, looking entirely out of place, I reach up on my tiptoes and pinch his cheek. He bats my hand away and glares at me. “This will be fun,” I tell him.

“There’s nothing fun about tree sap, pine needles, and cold weather,” he bites back.

“True, but we have hot chocolate, candy canes, and Christmas music. Plus, in between customers you can hang out in the sugarhouse and get to know Mr. Steve. He’s retired and spends his days tending to his garden, boiling sap to make maple syrup and growing Christmas trees. ”

“And snow, wind and acres of trees. I’m not comfortable with you walking through with some unknown person, carrying a saw,” he says.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Then why am I here?” Calvin has a point. I called him here because of the incident at the mall, and while nothing has happened per se, he’s here because I feel safer when he’s around. I nod, agreeing that traipsing through the uncut trees is probably not the best idea. Nor do I remember the lay of the land very well.

“I promise to stay right here.” I turn and look at the rows of split rail fencing and saw horses used to hold the trees up.

“And no carrying any trees. The last thing you need is to get injured before you’re due on set for your next film.”

Internally, I groan. Being home has been incredibly relaxing to the point where I don’t necessarily miss California, except for the weather. I know I have to go back, but the thought of staying here longer is very appealing or at least making sure I’m home in between movies. I could be a diva and demand a small break in between films. It’s not likely I’d do something like that because I don’t want to tarnish my reputation. However, the thought is there, lingering in the back of my mind.

Calvin and I walk down the snow-covered driveway and into the sugarhouse where the wood stove is emitting a bit of warmth. “Mr. Steve!” I don’t give the old man a chance to recognize me before I’m tugging him into an embrace. “How have you been?”

He pulls back and appraises me. I give him my best dazzling smile, praying he remembers me. Maybe this was a mistake. I never thought he’d forget about me, but ten years have passed, and when my dad mentioned volunteering, I jumped at the opportunity.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t little Du Luca. I see your ole man is making you earn your keep.”

“He’s a slave driver, I tell ya.” Mr. Steve hugs me again before extending his hand out to Calvin. “Mr. Steve, this is my friend, Calvin Johnson.”

“So you’re the bodyguard I’ve heard rumblings about around town?”

“Guilty as charged,” Calvin says. “And here to be of service to you.”

“Well, I appreciate the help. The kids these days, it’s hard to find someone willing to be out in the cold for hours on end. They always want to play on their phones or sit in front of the television where it’s warm.”

“I have to say, I agree with them. It’s cold here, Mr. Steve.” Calvin solidifies his comment by crossing his arms and shivering. I know he can’t be that cold since he’s wearing a state-of-the-art-nothing-is-getting-through-parka. In fact, I’m wearing the same type, and I’m toasty warm.