“New twists on old traditions?” Savannah pushed her empty mug toward the center of the table. Matthew had talked for almost half an hour about his vision for giving this year’s Howardson’s Christmas display a twenty-first century makeover.
“With all due respect, Mr. Buck, when it comes to Christmas traditions, people rarely like change, never mind ‘new twists’.” She was beginning to wish she had left after the first cup, as she, herself, was one of those people who was not fond of twisting old customs into new ones. But she not only promised Matthew she would hear him out, she knew she needed to do this for herself, too. Savannah was well aware that along with her unhappiness, she had become rigid, not liking to stray from the comfortable and familiar. She had always been a traditionalist herself and was constantly the butt of her family’s jokes, especially when she took out her grandmother’s life-sized red velvet Easter bunny right after Valentine’s Day, as that was what her grandmother and mother did. Her husband and son hated that well-worn, crazy button-eyed rabbit, but, as she would say, ‘it is a family tradition.’
“Better for Halloween,” Patrick always joked.
“I agree, Savannah,” Matthew said, still animated, ”but generation after generation has seen the same thing, and while that’s heartwarming to see grandparents with their grandchildren share in those memories, sometimes things do get old and tired.”
“I hope you’re not referring to Santa! Or Mrs. Claus for that matter,” Savannah laughed.
Savannah saw a smile illuminate Matthew’s face and he shook his head no.
“Santa old and tired? Never. And that’s how I envision this year’s production. Kids are smart and they know a fifty-year old robotic figure when they see one. Sure, their parents and grandparents love to walk down memory lane, but we want to excite all generations, while still maintaining that old familiarity, but update it for a younger generation. And that’s where you come in.”
“I’m all ears, Mr. Buck.” Savannah tightened the scarf about her neck as a cold breeze blew in when the cafe’s door opened and several members of that young generation flew in, chatting excitedly about what to order from the Yellow Pumpkin menu.
“If you’re cold, I am happy to switch sides with you,” Matthew offered.
“I’m fine, but thank you,” she said, thinking his offer was very kind and chivalrous.
“I just can’t wait to hear how I fit in with all of this. But, if you are looking for a young, say thirty-ish year old Mrs. Claus, then I don’t think I’m your woman. That’s one thing I know I am certainly not!”
“Oh, I know that…” She watched Matthew’s face twist in embarrassment as he cut himself off. She thought he must have realized that he might stick his foot in his mouth again about her age, and if that was the case then her being part of his twenty-first century vision would melt like snow on a mild winter day right before his eyes.
“I mean that I don’t want a young…” He stopped again.
Savannah watched amused, thinking that it’s a careful line to walk when broaching the subject of a woman’s age, especially when a man was doing the talking. She smiled and decided to give Matthew some help.
“Mr. Buck, I’m a woman in my early fifties, and I have no problem letting the world know that’s what I am. Age is a gift not given to many, or something like that. I don’t look back and wish I was younger. I look forward to everything that’s yet to come—my son getting married, giving me a grandchild or two, and retiring to my namesake city. I try to look forward, not to look back. So go on. Why me?”
“Well, it was actually your hair.”
“My hair?” Savannah’s hand instinctively flew to her head, and she ran her fingers through her hair, thinking some silly Halloween decoration was caught in it. But that was out of the question because Bea Burns, her nosy co-worker, would have taken great joy in letting Savannah know she had something sticking out of her hair.
“I know I need a cut, but my stylist has been…”
Matthew’s laughter interrupted her.” No, it’s very becoming…” He stopped himself again, and Savannah saw the heat rise in his cheeks. She thought she really must be getting to him for some reason because everything that had come out of his mouth made him sound as if he thought it was offensive, which it wasn’t at all. She didn’t mean to have that effect on him, especially after checking her own attitude, but still, there was something that she felt he was scared of in her presence.
“It was actually the color that caught my eye. It reminds me of a frozen waterfall.”
“Oh, thank you,” Savannah said. Now it was her turn to feel the color rise in her own cheeks, feeling somewhat embarrassed by his sweet compliment.
“No one’s ever referred to it like that before. I’m either gray or white to most people, although I prefer platinum myself. But there are tons of women who have this hair color. Why me?”
Savannah sensed a hesitation in Matthew, almost as if he knew he had to choose his words very carefully.
“Well, like I said, new twists on old traditions. Mrs. Claus is an old tradition, but you’d be the new twist. A more modern Mrs. Claus. One who is still warm and caring, but, well, I’ll just say it, not dowdy and ah… pleasantly plump. You’re the one who looks like she can take care of the big guy in addition to running the castle, keeping the elves on task, and is ready to hitch up the reindeer to the sleigh in the beat of a heart. Not to mention bake and construct gingerbread houses at the drop of a snowman’s fedora.”
“I think I like it. Keep going…”
Savannah saw that from the mischievous twinkle in Matthew’s eyes he was in his glory depicting how he perceived his Enchanted Land of Claus.
“Mrs. Claus has the same color hair as you, but that's where the similarities end. The traditional Mrs. Claus is always portrayed as an older lady and sort of subservient, and her hair pulled into a matronly bun, I suppose you could say. My Mrs. Claus has long flowing ice colored hair just like yours, and although she might be a woman of a certain age, she’s more contemporary and, well, not frumpy. I think you know what I’m trying to say?”
“What you mean to say is that some of Mrs. Claus’ traditional physical attributes are good, but some could use some updating. That right?”
Matthew nodded his head in agreement, taking a sip of his hot chocolate, and winced in disapproval and waved for the waitress.
“Oh, it’s warm chocolate, not hot.”
“Wow,” said Savannah, marveling at his ability to down yet another Yellow Pumpkin hot chocolate. These were not simply cold weather beverages, but desserts in and of themselves. As much as she loved them if she had a third one, she would burst right at the seams. But not Matthew.
That’s a guy for you, she laughed to herself as the waitress placed another cup in front of him and she watched as Matthew spooned two big dollops of the whipped cream and crushed peppermint into his cup.
“So, I think I have found the perfect Mrs. Claus. What do you think?”
“Well, what makes you so sure you found her? I like the idea, but I’m still not convinced,” she said playfully, realizing she was enjoying their conversation and that it was actually nice to sit and chat with a charming man. It had been so long.
“Well, it is my job to convince you that being part of Howardson’s Enchanted Land of Claus is an opportunity that you just cannot refuse.”
“Hmm, but aside from the color of my hair, what makes you so sure I’m the one?”
He shrugged his shoulders.
“Just an instinct. I’ve been doing this for a long time, and I think I have a good feeling about whether something, or someone, will work or not. Full disclosure. I was upstairs in the store, and I saw you watching the display rolling out, and well, you just had this look of wonderment, if you will. It was as if watching the Christmas display unfold was something you look forward to every year. You looked like you were happy to see it return.”
Savannah found herself shocked at Matthew’s perception of her earlier in the day. She had felt exactly as he just described —happy.
But she didn’t want to let him on to this fact, so she maintained an expert poker face.
“I am happy to see it return. Like a lot of people, I came here when I was a child, and I brought my son, too. I guess you could say it’s like an old relative you see only during the holidays. You know it’s Christmas when Howardson’s starts decorating. It does make people happy. Including me.”
“My vision for Howardson’s this year is Christmas Present with a Dash of Christmas Past. Santa will be a little less rotund, not a lot, but a little more athletic. You know, like a pro wrestler type.”
Savannah laughed picturing Santa in a wrestling ring.
“Sure, I can just see Santa smacking down Jack Frost and the Abominable Snowman.”
Matthew laughed.
“Well, he probably could because our Santa is actually a former pro wrestler—you met him earlier—Brock, our chief security guard. So, of course, this Mrs. Claus I’m thinking of would be like minded.”
“A wrestler?” Savannah smiled, full well knowing that’s not what he meant. ”If that’s the case, I don’t think I fit the bill.”
“You’re funny. Mrs. Claus will have that caring and sweet personality, but be more athletic as well. You know, lots of skiing and snowmobiling and lots of walks around their castle with the reindeer. Outdoorsy and healthy, but while still maintaining the jolly old souls of the Clauses, hence The Enchanted Land of Claus.”
Savannah furrowed her brows in thought. She still wasn’t convinced that she could pull this off.
“I do like the idea, it does still seem traditional, which is very important, but perhaps less tired. Revived and refreshed, I guess you could say.”
“Exactly! A bit more modern but in keeping with the sweet hot cocoa and gingerbread cookies we all know and love. And will continue to love. And eat.”
“And you think I could pull this off? Because I’m not so sure.”
“I do. I think customers would be drawn to you. You did mention you have a son, so I’m assuming you like children?”
“I love children, Mr. Buck, and maybe someday I’ll be lucky enough to be blessed with grandchildren. But not now.”
Matthew’s hands flew up in excitement, sending the spoon flying to the floor.
“Well, see, as Mrs. Claus, children will be your biggest customer! And they go home with their parents at the end of the day—a perfect situation.”
“I don’t know, Mr. Buck. I work all week and the thought of going to another job…”
“Hours are flexible. Santa and Mrs. Claus arrive the Saturday before Thanksgiving, and you’ll be there on the weekends only until December 10, but after that it does tend to get hectic and busy, but it’s only for about two weeks. The Enchanted Land of Claus’ final day is December 23. I promise, I’ll make it worth your while. All the cookies and hot chocolate you can eat and drink, plus a generous Howardson’s discount.”
Savannah laughed. ”Well, so much for your athletic Mrs. Claus!”
“I think you’ll really enjoy it, Savannah. You really seem like you would fit the spirit of Howardson’s Enchanted Land of Claus.”
“Well, I guess I’d be a fool to turn that down, now wouldn’t I, Mr. Buck?” Savannah extended her hand. ”I’d love to be your new Mrs. Claus.”