“You ready?” I asked Shaun.
He nodded and shifted his daughter more securely to his side. “Whenever you are.”
The cameraman counted down from five to one.
“I’m here with Shaun Pickering and his daughter, Anna, in the very heart of Manhattan, Rockefeller Center, where they are about to go ice-skating, a favorite pastime of many resident New Yorkers. Thank you, Shaun, for allowing me to interrupt your day for a few minutes.”
Shaun smiled. “Glad I could help.”
“What I’d like to know, Shaun, with Thanksgiving right around the corner, what are you thankful for?”
He looked at the camera and hugged his daughter tight. “I’m thankful for my Anna. The only thing I have left of her mother, my late wife.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that. How does anyone respond when they hear of someone’s severe loss? With “I’m sorry for your loss?” He probably didn’t want to hear that.
The camera kept rolling, and with the lull in conversation, Shaun continued. “It’s been rough being a single dad, but this little girl”—he rubbed noses with Anna—“has made every day of the past five years worth it.”
Anna giggled and held her Dad’s cheeks. “So cold, Daddy!” She laughed and smiled one of those smiles that made everyone light up.
I cleared my throat. “Miss Anna, what are you thankful for this year?”
She turned her big brown eyes toward the camera. I could see the cameraman get a few steps closer. Anna blinked and grinned. “I’m thankful for my daddy. He’s the bestest daddy in the whole world. And he’s gonna take me ice skating and buy me a hotdog and a soda that Grandma says is so bad for me!” She giggled again and I wanted to grab hold of her and kiss her sweet pink cheeks.
“That sounds like a really cool daddy.”
“Bestest ever.” She scrunched up her cute little button nose.
“Well, there you go, folks. Thank you, Shaun Pickering and his daughter, Anna, for sharing what they are thankful for. “
I stopped, smiled at the camera, and waited for the sign. The cameraman held up his thumb.
“You guys were amazing. Thank you. And I’m so glad you could share with us.” I held out my hand to the cameraman. “You’ve got them?” I asked. He handed me two prepaid one hundred dollar Visa gift cards. “Our gift to you. May you find something wonderful with those.”
The guy took the cards. “We didn’t do it to for money.”
“I know you didn’t. But I’m thankful for your contribution. Enjoy!” I smiled. A pair of arms came around me from behind. I leaned back against the familiar body, loving the warmth he exuded.
A freezing cold nose rubbed along the space just behind my ear. I squealed, but he held tight. “Pretty awesome idea you had there. And the gift was a nice touch.”
“Well, it’s nice to get a surprise now and again. And besides, we didn’t have to pay to interview Anton or Mason. I decided to use some of my budget to purchase a few thousand bucks worth of Visa gift cards. Then anyone we interviewed, we’d give them a card and hopefully make their day.”
He turned me around, settling me firmly into the comfort of his arms. “I love it, Mia, and I love you.”
Man, Wes seemed to make a point to tell me he loved me more often. I’d never tire of hearing it, either. “Thank you. Now let’s move on to the next location. I’m thinking Empire State Building will be fun!”
He chuckled. “I see what you’re doing.”
I waggled by brows and grinned. “Seeing the sights and doing my job at the same time. I call that a two-fer!”
Wes pulled me close once more and kissed me. Fully. Deeply. Completely.
* * *
Hand in hand, Wes and I made it with the crew to the very top of the Empire State Building where I found an older couple who looked to be in their eighties. They eagerly agreed to let me interview them. Once everything was set up, and with the couple standing in front of the New York skyline, the cameras were set to roll.
“I’m here with Xavier and Maria Figueroa on the top of the Empire State Building. We’re here in one of the most iconic places in all the world to ask you what you are thankful for.”
The man held his wife’s hand up to his lips and placed a long kiss to the top. “I’m thankful for my wife, Maria. We have been married sixty years. She’s given me four sons to be proud of, kept our home while I served sixteen years in the armed forces during the Vietnam War, and has stood by me through the good times and bad.”
He turned his head and held her cheek with a shaking hand. “You are my only.” He kissed her softly as tears streaked down her wrinkled face. Her white hair was pulled up into a perfect bun and shone against the now sunny New York sky.
When they faced the camera, he handed her a cloth handkerchief that she'd probably ironed for him. She blotted her eyes and smiled at me.
“Now, Maria, I’m certain it’s hard to follow that one up, but can you tell me why you’re here today on the top of the Empire State Building on a snowy, sunny day?”
The woman smoothed her hair and looked out over the horizon. “We come here every year, once a year on the same day.”
“And the significance?” I urged.
“It’s where my Xavier proposed to me over sixty years ago. We live just outside the city, and once a year each November on this very day, we come here to give thanks. To one another and to the city for providing us with such a beautiful place to live. We don’t have much, but what we lack in monetary or modern conveniences, we more than make up for in love. Isn’t that right, dear?” She squeezed closer to her husband who his arm around his wife.
“Absolutely, my love.”
* * *
“So we’ve done Rockefeller Plaza and the Empire State Building. What’s next?” Wes asked as we got into our rented van.
I grinned and placed my hands on the seat front in front of me, practically hopping out of my seat with excitement. “The Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island, of course!”
Wes rolled his eyes. “You are such a tourist!” He grabbed my hand and lifted it to his mouth for a kiss the same way the husband did to his wife up on the Empire State Building.
“Totally! And I’m not ashamed. I’ve been to the city once before, but the circumstances were not great.”
The memory of Aaron’s grabby hands pressing me into the concrete wall of the library near Grant Park sent a shiver of disgust through me. Wes felt the change too, if his clenched jaw and tight lips were any indication.
He shook his head. “Never again. I’ll protect you with my life,” he grated through his teeth.
I petted his hand and squeezed it for good measure. “I know. I know. No worries. This trip has been nothing but amazing. I got engaged to the man of my dreams…” I knocked my shoulder into his, trying to lighten his irritation at the reference to my attack. “We got to hang out with some of my best friends. And I’m here with you, interviewing people about what they're thankful for while seeing all the best tourist locations of New York City. What could be better?”
He let out a slow breath. “You’re right. This is pretty great. I’m glad I came with you.”
I snuggled against his side and let his warmth feed my soul. “Me too.”
The van pulled up to the parking for the ferry to Liberty Island. We paid the fees and went through the extensive security process, which took much longer than I’d anticipated. This meant we’d have to do some of our interviews tomorrow. We only had two more days in the city, and I’d wanted to spend one of them just with my guy, but that didn’t seem likely. It was already three o'clock and it would get dark, which wasn’t ideal for filming and getting good backdrops for my interviews. The goal was to make the entire segment visually stimulating, too. Give the audience a trip through New York that they might never get otherwise. So far, it had worked beautifully.
On the ferry, I decided to kill two birds with one stone and interview someone who was standing alone. Turned out I foun
d exactly what I needed when I saw a bundled up blonde with striking blue eyes standing at the rail. The wind whipped her hair around as she stood silent, watching the island get closer. I interrupted her and asked if she’d be willing to share in the segment, and she was overjoyed. Her Scottish accent surprised me. I found out that she was a romance writer attending a writer’s conference in the States and had a free day. So she decided to take advantage and see the full New York skyline in all its glory.
I grabbed the mic and stood very close to the railing of the boat as it sailed through the waters of the Upper Bay.
“Friends, I’m standing on my first ferry ride ever, speeding toward Liberty Island, and found this lovely woman. Janine Marr is from Scotland visiting our great nation on business. How has your first visit to the States been?” I asked.
“Lovely. Overwhelming, but overall, I’d say it’s been memorable. I love Americans. Everyone is always in a hurry to get to the next spot as if the person they are going to meet is the most enchanting person in the world and they need to get there fast.” Her Scottish accent was thick as molasses and just as sweet.
I grinned into the camera, not sharing her enthusiasm for people rushing around, but loving how positive hers was. “That’s one way to look at it. Now I know you’re heading back to Scotland tomorrow and you do not celebrate Thanksgiving, but I’m wondering, what are you thankful for?”
Janine glanced around the boat and looked at the statue, the New York skyline, and finally the Bay. “The world. Our Earth. Look at it. No matter where you are, whether it be in New York City or the sprawling lands of my home in Scotland, there’s always beauty to be found everywhere you are.”
Once I finished with Janine, I took her business card so I could look up the wicked hot romance novels she'd written and gave her the gift card. It was time to exit the boat. Before the other tourists could get swept away in the incredibly cool, ginormous Statue of Liberty, I stopped the Martins, a Canadian family seeing the statue for the first time.
“Thank you, Jacob and Amanda Lee Martin, for allowing me to interview you and your brood before your appointment with our beautiful Lady. First of all, let’s start by telling our audience where you're from.”
Amanda held her only daughter, a toddler, on one hip while her husband wrangled the two older twin boys into a lockdown at his sides. “We’re here from Ottawa Canada,” she said proudly.
“And have you enjoyed your trip so far?”
“We have. Only keeping twin six-year-old boys in check alongside our precious girl in a city of this size is not easy.” Jacob laughed.
“I’ll bet it isn’t. Well, I know you have a lot to see, and these little guys are ready to check out our super cool statue aren’t you, guys?” My voice rose higher as they focused on me.
Two little fists popped up into the air as synchronized yeahs were screamed into the air.
“All righty, then. So tell me, Amanda Lee, what are you thankful for?”
Her pretty caramel-colored eyes got misty with unshed tears. “My family. They are all I need in this world.”
I smiled and moved the mic to her husband Jason. “And you, Jason?”
“Same.” He shrugged. “There’s nothing else I’m more thankful for than my wife, our two boys, and our daughter.”
Knowing the audience would love to hear it, I crouched down and the camera followed. I pointed to the first twin boy. "What are you thankful for?”
He pursed his lips, and his eyes grew big. “Candy!” His decibel was much higher than I expected.
I laughed. “That’s a good answer. And you?” I held the mic to his brother.
“My bike. I love my bike. It’s awesome and has a cool lightning strike down the front,” he said, matter-of-fact. All the adults chuckled.
Standing back up, I moved the mic near the chubby-cheeked toddler who couldn’t be more than two and a half, maybe closer to three. “And you, little one. Would you like to tell America what you are thankful for?”
Instead of responding, she shoved a ratty pink elephant in front of my face and right into the camera. “You’re thankful for your elephant?” She nodded and then buried her face against her mother’s neck.
“Thank you, Martin clan, for sharing what you’re thankful for.”
The Martins were beyond grateful for the five hundred dollars’ worth of Visa cards. They shared that this trip was a lifelong dream of theirs and was a huge hit to their savings. This five hundred would help them get right back on the road to saving for their next dream adventure.
The last interview I decided would be in the Great Hall at Ellis Island. I found an elderly man standing next to two other men, one holding the hand of a boy who couldn’t be more than eight or nine. The men could have been my great-grandfather, grandfather, and my dad.
“Excuse me, would you mind if I interviewed you for a television segment focused on being thankful?”
One of the men spoke in German to the eldest. He nodded.
“Sure, you may ask us questions, and I shall translate to my opa.” I knew the word Opa to mean grandfather in German.
I spent a few minutes getting to know the three men and one child. They were four generations of Kappmeiers. Robert Kappmeier was in his nineties and looked damn good for his age, as did his son, Richard, who was in his late sixties, and his son, Eric, closing in on forty, and Eric's son, Nolan, who was eight.
Once I found out why they were there I couldn’t stop the tears from falling down my face. Wes soothed me while I got hold of myself and repaired my makeup the best I could without a team of makeup artists to make me look camera ready. Once I’d gotten myself in check, the cameras rolled.
“I am standing here in front of Ellis Island with four generations of Kappmeier men. Thank you all for stopping to chat with me.”
I spoke first with Robert, the eldest Kappmeier. “Now, Mr. Kappmeier, thank you for agreeing to speak with me and translate.” He nodded. Apparently sometime after he retired, he decided to mostly speak in his native tongue but knew English very well. “From what your son and grandson tell me, you passed through Ellis Island back in 1949 a few years before it closed in 1954.”
“I did. Best day of my life.”
“Why’s that?” I asked, genuinely interested.
“Because I was free. Germany had just survived the defeat of the Nazis, and the country split into two. Many of my family were prisoners of war during that time. I promised my mother, who’d lost my father in the war, that I’d find a way to be free. So I left my country, my home, and found a new home. One where I could feel safe to live, work, love, and have a family of my own.”
“And would you say that you were thankful for America, for the opportunity it afforded you?” I asked automatically.
He nodded curtly but got close, walked me over to his youngest grandson, Nolan, who clutched his dad’s hand nervously. His great-grandfather lifted his chin.
“I am thankful for my freedom and the freedom of my son, Richard, my grandson, Eric, and great-grandson, Nolan Kappmeier. You see, as Americans, they will always be free.”
I thanked the men for sharing their story and gave them the cards, which they planned on donating to charity.
Looking at the camera, tears in my eyes, Wes by my side, I decided that was the end of my segment. There was no need for more.
“Today you heard from the people of New York. Families, single dads, visitors from other countries, and generations of Americans. We learned that people were thankful for their wives, husbands, children, parents, the world, and most of all, the freedom that our country affords us. I’d like to take a moment to thank all the veterans of our great nation for ensuring that we have yet a new day to be thankful for, because they are fighting for our freedom. I’d like to challenge all of you watching this show to thank someone you’ve been meaning to thank. Spread the joy and love we take for granted each and every day, and give back. But most of all…be thankful for what you have and rejoice in it. Thank y
ou all for watching. Until next time, live beautiful.”
The second the cameraman raised his thumb.
Wes grabbed me around the waist and hugged me. “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. That segment is going to touch so many people.”
I snuggled into his warmth, imprinting this moment on my mind so I could revisit the feeling of unity, love, and compassion for years to come. Today, I was proud of myself. I’d taken a concept, brought it to fruition, and knew that it would resonate with millions of people watching when it aired.
“Let’s celebrate!” Wes said, planting a line of kisses from the bottom of my neck up to my ear where he wrapped his lips around the tip of my ear and bit down. A zing of heat shot through my body and landed between my thighs.
“What did you have in mind?” I raised one eyebrow and smirked.
“You, me, a bottle of champagne, a basket of strawberries, whipped cream, and a fluffy hotel bed.”
I grinned. “You had me at you and me.”
Chapter Seven
The moment our rental car stopped in front of the large ranch-style home, a wild-haired little blonde ran down the steps, arms flailing, and her father in tow.
“Isabel, give your auntie some room to get out of the car, darlin’!” my brother Max hollered from the edge of the porch as he made his way down.
Too excited myself, I hopped out of the car and caught the firecracker as she jumped. “Auntie Mia!” she squealed. Hearing her call me auntie officially, knowing that she shared the blood running through my veins, was one of the most powerful moments I’d had in years. I held my niece close, letting her wrap her arms and legs around me. She pressed her hands to both of my cheeks. “I get to be the queen!” she practically screamed in my face. I laughed hard and hugged her tight.
“You got it, love. I’ll be the princess. Hey, are you ready to meet Uncle Wes?”
Calendar Girl: November: Book 11 Page 7
