The Total Package (15 page)

CHAPTER 12

THE HOLIDAYS WERE
rough on Dani. Not even the exhilaration of the team having yet to be handed a loss could put a dent in her doldrums. The Mavericks played the Thanksgiving game against Dallas, so there would be no going home to Danza’s feast, and she missed Brendon’s excitement at kicking off the Christmas season. On the day after Thanksgiving, as they had for decades, the Carrinos transformed the house into a holiday wonderland.

“I don’t work nine to five,” Danza always said, scoffing at Black Friday sales. “I can shop anytime.”

Back home in Ardmore, they were dedicating the entire weekend to putting up the tree and the village and the wreaths. There were craft projects from when Dani and her brothers were little, carefully preserved. Brendon would help and maybe add his own masterpiece to the craft mix. There would be Santas and snowmen and reindeer galore.

By the time Dani got home, she would pretty much have to turn around and head back. It just wasn’t going to be worth it. So she stayed in Austin, and rather than sitting around her hotel room moping, when the request came to film a segment on Saturday with Marcus, she jumped at the chance to keep occupied.

Dani met Marcus in the hotel lobby, right on time, and offered to drive. Cameraman Stan met them in the parking lot and led the way in his company van to the location, which according to Google Maps was an empty lot close to the airport off Capital of Texas Highway.

Working with Marcus, even with its ups and downs, had been better than Dani expected. Upon getting what he wanted, his own correspondent, he began to give everyone what they wanted, his time. At first their interviews were stilted and awkward, and it was barely enough to create a news snippet. Nobody trusted either of them to go live. But as the weeks wore on, he and Dani began to develop their own rapport. Because they respected each other’s space, it was easy for them to develop a comfortable exchange. They both had a dry, quick wit and played the little nuances of the game off each other nicely. It wasn’t long before everyone was looking forward to the postgame to see what they would say to each other. All the national outlets picked up their feed to broadcast. Soon after that, jealous minds started whispering that the two of them were canoodling on their off days. It was a conclusion that was easy to draw. Marcus was rarely seen in public, and Dani kept to herself too, spending most of her off time in her hotel room, either Skyping with her family or watching TV and wishing she was home. Room service had most of her orders committed to memory. She had no problem ignoring the misconception, and she could tell Marcus appreciated her silence. It spared her having to confess that the rumors had an added bonus. If Tyson believed Dani and Marcus were hooking up, it was sure to keep him at bay. But by the look on his face whenever she encountered him in passing, she wasn’t so sure it did. She continued to watch him from afar, knowing it was the right thing and hating every minute of it.

But soon the pair’s rumored relationship was quickly twisted until it was back to the same old story about Marcus being gay, only now Dani was his beard. On the few occasions she dared speak of it, Dani got the distinct impression Marcus thought that was hilarious.

The truth was she didn’t know any more about Marcus by midseason than she did when she was hired to cover him. She could count on him to be where he said he would be at the exact time he said he would be there. He made no demands on her time other than an occasional stall tactic if someone pushed to get too close to him. But beyond that, he didn’t volunteer a shred of information about anything else.

There was one other thing she couldn’t help noticing. In most of their postgame interviews, Marcus would slip in a mention of his quarterback, practically forcing Dani to say something nice about Tyson. She always did, smiling, and making it sound like they were a pair of football superheroes, often with Clinton Barrow standing no more than a few yards away.

But now being alone in a car with Marcus was nothing short of nerve-wracking. They drove the first twenty minutes in silence while he looked out his window and she pondered just how one makes small talk with a clam.

“I can’t believe I said yes to this assignment without even knowing the details.” Dani tried opening the conversation with a half laugh.

“At our boss’s request, I’m going to decorate a Christmas tree,” Marcus said in response. “You’re going to ask me some random questions about it, maybe talk a little football.”

Dani couldn’t tell if he was serious. “Decorate a tree.
You’re
going to decorate a tree?”

“Okay, I’m going to spend a minute looking like I’m decorating a tree,” Marcus clarified, before pointing out his window at the side of the road. “Like that.”

Dani followed the direction of Marcus’s finger. The sight was as peculiar as it was heartwarming. People had begun to decorate random cedar trees that dotted the countryside and ran along the miles of highway. Some were elaborate, others clearly decorated by children with ornaments made of construction paper and sequins that hung no higher than the middle of the tree. There were sections where there were multiple trees in a row and spots where single, lonely-looking dressed-up cedars stood. Fully immersed in her own conundrums, she doubted she would’ve noticed them if he hadn’t pointed them out.

“Who decorates all these trees?” Dani wondered out loud after passing a dozen of them.

“Texans full of the Christmas spirit, I imagine,” Marcus said.

“And where do you factor in with all this holiday spiriting? You don’t strike me as the Christmassy type.”

Dani wished she could take the words back as soon as they were out of her mouth. No matter how many secrets Marcus kept, the common knowledge of his family history was enough to conclude his holidays probably weren’t very festive. Just when he had said more than three words to her in a more social setting, the first thing she did was slight him.

“We weren’t the religious type, that’s for sure.” If he sensed her discomfort, he didn’t let on. But he didn’t answer her question either, asking instead, “What about you?”

“I hail from a close, progressive Italian Catholic family.”

“What does that even mean?” Marcus queried, and Dani figured he knew even less about faith than he did family.

“It basically means that while we had crosses in every room, my parents refrained from hanging the ones of Jesus sadly looking down at us to remind us of all his suffering. They’re just big believers in the Resurrection and all the redemption that came with it.”

There were several long beats of silence before Marcus said, “That’s pretty profound, considering how hard you are on my man Tyson.”

“What are you talking about?” Dani mentally cursed his straying to her least favorite topic.

“At first I thought it was funny the way you two act around each other,” Marcus continued, “and I thought it would create an edgy dynamic that would yield great results on the field. But now I think there’s something much more personal going on.”

“There’s nothing personal about it,” Dani denied, a little too vehemently. “But you’re right, I don’t like him. Five years ago he was screwing everything in sight and could’ve opened his own pharmacy. Now he’s suddenly smooth and suave and all zenned out. I don’t think so.”

“There are a lot of questionable characters in this game. He’s not the first player who ever fell down. It strikes me as odd because you’re usually so nonjudgmental. You never pass up the opportunity to rag on him when the camera’s off. He really rubs you the wrong way. Like there’s a history there and you’re trying to convince yourself of something. I was curious as to what that might be.”

Curious? No, Marcus wasn’t the curious type. Perceptive was a different story. She thought she had been careful to remain cool when it came to Tyson, especially around Marcus. She still hadn’t gotten over the way Marcus seemingly peered into her soul that first day on the field. Apparently she came up short and her little tirade was only more ammunition for him.

Dani was spared having to directly answer him because Stan turned off the highway and down a small hill. She followed the van down to a strip mall at the bottom of the ravine. They drove past the parking lot, which was already full, and found a couple of spots on the side of the road past it. Stan grabbed his camera, and with his assistant, who carried Dani’s microphone and the spare battery pack, the four of them followed a small group of people back toward the strip mall, which housed about a dozen small storefronts.

To Dani’s surprise, nobody noticed her or Marcus. All eyes were on the cluster of trees at the far end of the parking lot, closest to the highway. As they neared, Dani could make out people decorating some of the trees, but the majority were gathered around a box truck that opened from the side. Inside the truck were neatly organized boxes of everything from plastic ball ornaments to solar-powered lights, to garland and tinsel. Christmas music floated from a portable sound system set up somewhere on the property.

At the center of the group near the truck, standing head and shoulders above the crowd of mostly small children and teenagers, was Tyson Palmer. Dani felt all her breath leave her in a rush.

Oh, hell no.

Which was really comical, considering that the expression on Tyson’s face when he saw them approach screamed the same thing. He finished what he was saying, which Dani was still too far away to catch, and then wended his way through the circle to greet them.

“Happy holidays. Guess my secret’s out.” He smiled as he broke away from the crowd and joined them. But it was a stiff, tight smile reminiscent of when he realized the clucking wasn’t going to go away.

None of it stopped him from looking positively scrumptious.

“I got a call from the boss’s office,” Marcus explained without acknowledging any discomfort on Tyson’s end. “He thought this was the kind of thing that makes the Mavs look good.”

“And if Marcus is willing to come out of hiding, it must be a pretty big deal,” Dani quipped in the effort to ease the tension. “Do you mind if we take a few minutes to get some footage?”

“Sure, but is it okay if we make it quick? I’ve got kids to play with and Christmas trees to rock around,” Tyson replied easily, turning the baseball cap he was wearing so that the bill was facing backward.

Dani and Stan had a quick conversation about where they should set up the shot. She placed Tyson and Marcus on opposite sides of the chosen tree and pulled a couple of kids out of the crowd who were willing to join them. She took only a few seconds of live action footage of them hanging a few ornaments on the tree. Stan suggested they ask Tyson a few questions, but Dani decided against it. The whole thing felt wrong, like they had intruded on something that was genuine and personal. As soon as Dani told Tyson she was done, he promptly excused himself and walked back over to a tree that was being decorated by what looked like three young kids and their grandfather. She asked Marcus and the kids to remain by their tree, asked a few questions of a general nature, and wrapped the whole thing up as quickly as she could. She dismissed Stan and his assistant, telling them they would add sound bites later back at the studio.

“I’m going to hang around awhile,” Dani told Marcus after Stan began hoofing back. “I need to at least find out what the real deal with this is. Clearly there’s a story behind it.”

“That’s cool. I’m going to go ahead and hitch a ride back with the guys and the van. See you later,” Marcus said, not waiting for her response. He took off out of the parking lot in pursuit of Stan and his assistant, leaving her alone.

Dani lingered in the background and observed as Tyson went from tree to tree, interacting and helping each group decorate. Many of the grown-ups and nearly all of the children hugged him at one point or another. He posed for pictures with anyone who asked, but oddly enough, not many people did. Smartphones were conspicuously absent. Eventually Tyson noticed Dani and smiled. This time his grin was much more real, and he made his way over to her.

“You’re still here. I thought you’d left.”

“I could tell the crew wasn’t particularly welcome and wanted to get them out of here. But I still need some idea on just what I was filming today.”

“Was I that obvious?” Tyson laughed but didn’t deny it. “Want to decorate a tree?”

“Maybe later,” Dani replied. “Want to fill me in with what is going on here?”

“Sure. Come on. Let’s go get some hot chocolate.”

It was still warm in Austin; whether it was unseasonably so, Dani couldn’t be sure. Back home, temperatures this high called for Slurpees, not hot chocolate. But this was one little break from reality she was more than willing to embrace. She let Tyson lead her over to a different truck that was closer to the building, with him high-fiving, fist-bumping, or patting the shoulder of every man, woman, and child as they passed them. This one was a food truck that provided the revelers with not only hot chocolate but also coffee, cider, water, and a vast array of snacks from doughnuts to popcorn, hot dogs, and caramel apples. The Christmas tunes were still cranking.

He had created an atmosphere so festive she could swear there was a nip in the air and a smell of pine that came with it. They sipped their drinks in silence for a few minutes while surveying the scene of dozens of cedars transforming into Christmas trees before them.

“I’m sorry we intruded,” Dani finally said. “But this is really incredible.”

“Thanks,” he said with pride.

“Why would you want to keep something so wonderful a secret?”

“Because not everything is about drawing attention. Some of these kids have had a rough start and already feel exploited. I wanted to give them a break from that. I’m not trying to save the world here, just spread a little cheer.”

“Right. Sorry,” Dani repeated, looking down at her cup. She felt chastised, though technically she’d done nothing wrong.

Tyson took note and softened his tone. He could tell by the look on her face she had no clue about what she had signed up for. But it had a boomerang effect when she hadn’t boned up on her assignment and was caught unaware. And she handled it not like a reporter, but a lady. Suddenly he didn’t mind telling the story. “When I first came to Austin, I’d been off the grid for quite a while. I had gotten used to being alone. Thrust in the middle of it, I felt out of place, didn’t know exactly what to do with myself. Right around the holidays it got unbearable. I knew I couldn’t participate in all the festivities the way I used to, and I was afraid if I got into social situations, I’d get pressured to do so. I don’t think I trusted myself. And I didn’t see my solitude as a barrier. My chiropractor is in this strip mall, and when I sort of confided in him about it, he jokingly called me a Grinch. And something he said after really drove his point home, only I didn’t know it at the time. When I walked out of his office that day, I saw this kid dragging all these crappy decorations out to one of the trees, paper plates with pinecones, construction paper rings to look like rope, stuff like that. I gave him a hand, and we started chatting it up. He told me about the whole tradition of the trees here. I spent a couple hours with him until it got dark, helping him decorate his tree. He was a nice kid and I’d seen him here before. Turned out, his mother worked at the coffee shop on the other end of the strip. His neighborhood was in a bad part of town and he was constantly being bullied. To keep safe, whenever he wasn’t in school he would come here to the mall until his mother got off work. He’d hang out in her car and do his homework, try to keep out of her way. He hadn’t seen his dad in years. He kept repeating he couldn’t believe he was talking to me. I made this kid’s day just by spending some time with him, even when I was in a rotten mood.”