Chapter 9

Early Monday morning, not long after the sun began to come up, twinkling off of the frozen snow on the ground and creating a myriad of diamonds, Brady found himself all alone in the park, the same one in which he’d chased Pooch just a few days ago. This time, he was here for work, but he was glad to have a few moments to sit on a bench and reflect. It wasn’t the same bench where Mrs. Snow had captured the furry thief, but that one was within eyesight. Instead, Brady had chosen a bench nearer to a copse of cedar trees, an idea in the back of his mind trying to bring itself together, to form into something coherent. It was there--it just wasn’t ready to articulate itself yet.

This was his process. Sitting alone in the quiet, often in the morning or at dusk, taking in nature, and letting his mind work. He’d gone over all of the reports from Mr. Jenkins in the past couple of days, and he could see several items that needed to be addressed more urgently than the parking lot down the street. One of them was the lack of holiday events sponsored by the town. For a place named Holiday Hills, there were surprisingly very few Christmas activities. He had made a mental note to speak to Mr. Jenkins about it when he met with him for lunch, later that day. At the moment, he was trying to figure out what it was about this particular part of the park that had drawn him in. He’d come here seeking nature on his way to evaluate a building the city owned on the edge of the downtown shopping district, but now, he realized there was something else about this part of the park waiting for him to recognize it.

“Well, I hadn't taken you for an early riser, but it’s nice to see you.”

The sound of Mrs. Snow’s voice was recognizable instantly. When Brady turned his head to see her wearing the same bright red coat she’d had on the other day, her matching hat pulled down tightly around her ears to combat the December morning air, he smiled. She was grasping the same brand of paper coffee cup she’d had Saturday, but this time, steam was still rising from the slit in the lid. “Good morning, Mrs. Snow.”

“Good morning, Mr. Rogers.”

“Please, call me Brady.” He’d been insisting on that ever since he’d first heard the song, “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?”.

“Brady.” Mrs. Snow nodded with a hearty smile and took a seat near him on the bench. “Got a lot on your mind?”

“No, just work.”

“Oh, what do you do?” Her eyes widened with genuine interest.

“I’m… the new city planner,” he said, not sure why he felt like that should remain a secret, something he didn’t like to say too loudly.

“You don’t say!” She seemed genuinely impressed, but then, he wondered if maybe that was because her daughter worked for a government entity. He’d gone over the numbers for the animal shelter. She was the only full-time employee on the books for the shelter, and there was only one part-time employee. That person, the dog catcher, technically didn’t even work there. He spent his twenty-two hours a week out and about, looking for strays, ultimately making Noelle’s job even more difficult. Not that it wasn’t a necessity. Brady wanted to believe Mrs. Snow’s enthusiasm at his revelation was because he was employed in some important occupation, but it was really just the possibility of getting to the ear of someone who could make her daughter’s work easier, he supposed.

“Yes. Technically, today is my first official day.”

“Well, congratulations.” She patted her thigh with her free hand, her palm slapping against the fabric of her black slacks. “I think we could use a fellow like you, someone with fresh eyes, someone from out of town.”

She’d ascertained quite a bit about him already. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely. Mayor Jenkins and the council aren’t doing a bad job, I suppose. But… many of those board members have been here their whole lives. Mayor Jenkins is the son of the former mayor…. We just need someone to come in and look at things anew, that’s all. Especially the budget. It seems like we pay higher taxes and get less for it than ever before, and I’ve lived here my whole life. All… well, let’s just say more than fifty years.” She winked at him then, and Brady hid a chuckle. He figured she had to be at least in her fifties since her daughter appeared to be about his age, which was twenty-eight.

Mrs. Snow had his attention, though. “What do you mean you’re getting less for your tax money? For instance, what has gone away?”

She pursed her lips together in thought for a moment. “I’m not sure where to begin. For one thing, a lot of the government run agencies have dialed back their hours, thanks to less staff. The library. The senior citizen building. The children’s museum. None of them are open as much as they used to be.”

Brady’s forehead wrinkled as he listened. That didn’t sound like something that would make most people in the community happy. “That’s too bad.”

“Yes, and then, well, look at Christmas. We still have the parade on Christmas Eve, so that’s good. But there used to be so much more. The holiday decorations haven’t been replaced for years. If they fall apart, they just stop putting them up, so there’s hardly any in public places. Sure, the stores and homes look nice, but that’s because they’re private. We used to have so many more events, too. When I was younger, the mayor hosted a gingerbread house building contest. That was so fun! We had reindeer on the square on Saturdays for the kids to come and pet. They did away with that a few years ago. Santa used to visit City Hall. Oh, and the tree!” She pointed at the pine tree in the center of the opening in front of him. It was a large, majestic tree, set off by itself. Brady had noticed it when he first came into the park that day. It was his main reason for choosing this bench. “The tree?” he repeated.

“Yes! We used to do a Christmas tree decorating and lighting a few weeks before Christmas. It was so wonderful. Noelle used to love it when she was younger. The tree would be so beautifully decorated, and then the mayor would light it, and we’d all sing carols. Boy, do I miss that.” She hung her head, shaking it back and forth.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Snow. That does sound like something that would’ve sparked a lot of joy in the people who lived here.” Brady had to wonder why they’d done away with that of all things. It didn’t seem like it would cost much to decorate and light a Christmas tree.

“Really, Brady, whatever you can do to sort things out around here, I know there will be a lot of grateful people.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Snow. You’ve given me a lot to think about.” He smiled at her, glad she’d stopped to talk to him. He’d had no idea what it had been that had drawn him to the area, but as soon as she’d mentioned the tree, the idea that had been trying to sort itself out in the back of his mind came into focus. He’d been thinking this would be a good place to show some Christmas spirit. Now, he understood why.

“I’m so glad to hear it, dear.” She gave him another encouraging smile and then added, “Well, I’ve gotta go. I’m not usually out and about this early, but I’ve got a dentist appointment. If you need any dental work done. Dr. Reavley is the best.”

With a chuckle, Brady said, “Good to know.”

“Also, if you get a chance, you should stop by the shelter and say hello to Pooch. I’m sure he’d love to see you. It’s really too bad you couldn’t take him home. He really wanted your attention, didn’t he? Stealing your scarf like that?”

Brady’s fingers went to the red scarf wound around his neck, which he’d washed as soon as he’d gotten home the other day. “My attention?” he asked. “You think?”

“Oh, yes, I do. I think that sweet puppy was picking you out to take him home, not realizing it wasn’t a possibility. Really, stop by and see him--if you can.”

“Okay,” Brady said with a shrug as she stood to leave. He had to think she was seriously talking about the dog wanting to see him, and not her daughter. After all, Noelle had been anything but impressed with him, and while he’d chalked it up to a bad day, he didn’t think they were about to be best friends or anything.

“Take care, Brady,” Mrs. Snow said, giving him a little wave.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Snow.” He waved back and then returned his attention to the tree. The mental list he had of items to discuss with Mr. Jenkins was growing longer. He hoped he didn’t forget anything important, especially now that he was distracted by a dog--and a beautiful animal shelter director who had not been trying to get his attention but may have gotten it anyway.