California Christmas Dreams. J.M. Jeffries
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“I’m not sleeping because I’m excited about the prospect of revitalizing this park. You should take a look at her drawings. She has a vision for what the park is eventually going to look like,” John said. “And I’m not just talking about Christmas.”
Jake said nothing. Merry had moved over to the go-kart track, and stood beneath the shade of a palm tree. She’d retrieved a camera from her pocket and was taking a photo of the track. Then she returned to her sketchbook.
He wasn’t winning this battle, but he could still win the war. Maybe what he needed to do was play along for the moment. With the new improvements, the price could go up. He could still win this. He just needed to keep his hand in everything. “You’re right, Dad,” Jake conceded. “Let me help you. I’ll oversee the money. Keep everything on budget.”
“I’ve been handling my own money since you left for school.”
“Handling money can be a burden. Let me take that burden off your shoulders so you can concentrate on the park and have more fun with Evelyn and your grandchildren.”
John glanced at his son, indecision on his face. “I never made you work in the park when you were a kid because you just didn’t have it in you. But I’m going to accept your offer with gratefulness and gracefulness. Because it will make you feel better if you can keep an eye on me. If you want to pretend I’m a drooling, addlepated old man, that’s okay with me.” He turned around and left, whistling as he sauntered down the path toward the carousel.
Jake watched his father leave, knowing he hadn’t fooled the old man, but he did feel better. This way he could keep Merry from frittering the money away on stupid stuff.
* * *
Merry sketched out an idea for the center island of the go-kart track. In her mind’s eye, she could see a huge Christmas tree, bright with lights and large ornaments. Stacks of large boxes wrapped in different colors with bows decorating the tops could be strewn beneath the branches. Maybe a big fluffy dog hidden behind the boxes would add interest.
She moved along the edge of the go-kart track, ever conscious of Jake Walters’s gaze on her. He’d be really hot if he wasn’t such a stick-in-the-mud. If only he would smile. He had a nice face and handsome eyes, but the austere expression and the rigid way he stood made him seem distant and aloof. She took out her tape measure and measured a section of fence surrounding the track. She entered the dimensions and then counted all the sections. She doubted she’d string any Christmas lights around the bars, but it never hurt to have a complete picture of what she could do.
She glanced at Jake Walters standing by the flagpole, watching her. His head was tilted to one side as he listened to his father. Despite John’s enthusiasm, she could see that Jake didn’t share it. His body was stiff and unyielding and he clearly didn’t want to listen to his father. John’s body was loose and flexible as he gestured with his hands. She could see enthusiasm in every mannerism John exhibited. She didn’t understand why Jake didn’t get it. This park was magical in its own way. Not like the others, but in a more down-to-earth manner.
John walked away whistling, leaving Jake standing by the flagpole. Merry knew Jake wanted his father to sell the park, and he would probably do what he could to talk John into accepting the terms of the sale. Just from the way they stood, she could tell they were both determined men. Maybe accepting this job wasn’t the smartest move on her part; she’d better start thinking about contingency plans. She still had contacts at Universal Studios from her intern days, and they’d start shooting the midseason replacement shows soon. She’d worked for them for a year before the Chapman Brothers had come back to her with a better offer, but now that she’d ended that association she’d better start thinking ahead again.
“My father says you’ve done some drawings to show your plans for the park. May I see them?” Jake asked.
Merry started. He’d crept up on her while she’d been caught in her thoughts. “Yeah, sure,” she said. “Come on.” She led the way back to her dingy little office.
She spread the plans out across her desk and drawing table. She rubbed her thumb nervously against her thigh. He hadn’t said a word; he simply stared at them, thumbing through the drawings.
She was deeply conscious of how he made her office seem smaller and even more dingy. He was a man who overpowered a room.
He didn’t say anything for the longest time, simply glanced back and forth, his mouth pressed tightly shut. She wanted him to be impressed with her vision, but he seemed to become more and more distant.
“This is going to cost a lot of money,” Jake said after a long, uncomfortable silence.
“Yes, the initial outlay is going to cost. We have sets to build and costumes to make, but what I’m planning here is something that will be multifunctional. I’ll repurpose the same props for Easter, summertime, Halloween and then Christmas again. And your father gave me a budget. I think I can meet it and maybe spend even less if I can get a lot of local college students to help me with things. They get course credit and I get cheap labor.”
He didn’t say anything, and Merry waited uncomfortably. He looked skeptical. She racked her brain trying to think of the right things to say that would sway him. “I haven’t got a hope in hell in convincing you this is a good idea. Why did you even bother to talk to me?”
Surprise lit his eyes at her directness. “Dad is sixty-seven years old. He should be tuna fishing in Cancun or chasing nubile Tahitian girls.”
Her eyes opened wide. “Wow. Do you really think your dad wants to chase Tahitian girls? So we know how you intend to spend your retirement.”
“Hell, no, not me,” Jake said, shaking his head vigorously.
“Your dad has a lot of life left in him. Why shouldn’t he do what he wants to do?”
“Because this is a dying park.”
“No,” she said, “not dying, just a little lost. This park doesn’t know what it wants to be when it grows up.”
“And you do.”
She looked him directly in the eye. “Yes, I do.” She took his hand and tugged him toward the door. “Come on. I want to really show you my vision.”
She opened the door and dragged him out back into the park. “This park has so much potential. Nowadays, it’s not enough to just look pretty. You have to provide substance, too.”
“You can’t remake this park into a mini Chapman Brothers.”
He didn’t resist the pull of her hand, but she sensed he didn’t really want to come with her. Not that he dragged his feet like a child, but she felt that he had no enthusiasm for his father’s dream.
“No one can compete with the Chapman Brothers. They have a studio, their own amusement park to advertise their movies and a ton of visitors who come every year from all over the world. I, of all people, would know.”
“Then what’s the point?” he asked as she drew him toward the miniature golf course.
“There’s room for everyone. This is going to be a different experience.” She drew him to a small bridge that gave him an overview of the three courses that were