November: Calendar Girl Book 11

The man stood and inserted himself in front of his daughter. The move was probably instinctive of a father protecting his child. “Yeah, so?” His voice was deep and leery as he sized me up.

I pointed over my shoulder to the camera guys and Wes standing off to the side in front of the ice rink. “Well, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind letting me interview you. It’s really just a question or two. I’m trying to capture Americans living their day-to-day lives and sharing that with the rest of the world. It would be quite a coup for your little girl later on in life to know she was on TV.” I smiled at the brown haired, brown-eyed little girl. She wore a red winter hat and her long brown hair tumbled out the sides. Her cheeks were chilled from the weather and perfect bubble gum pink.

The man who also had brown hair and brown eyes leaned down. “Would you like to be on TV, Anna?” He put his finger under the girls chin and tipped her head up to look at him.

“Sure, Daddy.”

I clapped my hands. “Great! If you wouldn’t mind stepping over to where we’ve set up the camera, that would be awesome!”

Since the little girl already had her ice skates on, her daddy lifted her easily into his arms. She couldn’t have been more than five or six, and he was a big guy.

“So Mister…”

“Pickering. Shaun Pickering.”

I made a mental note of their names so I wouldn’t mess it up on camera. I didn’t want to keep them too long, and more than anything, I wanted this segment to be real. If I messed up…well, life was full of little errors and even people on television weren’t perfect, as much as the public might think they were.

“Okay, guys, you ready to roll?”

The sound tech handed me a microphone and an earpiece. I suited up, pushed my long hair to each side of my head so that it framed me from the cold and according to Wes looked super cute with my hound’s-tooth cap. The cameraman commented that my green pea coat contrasted well with my black hair and green eyes.

“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.”