California Christmas Dreams. J.M. Jeffries

John said, a mulish look on his face.

      “This park hasn’t done more then break even in years. People who come to Los Angeles go to Chapman Brothers, Knotts Berry Farm, Universal Studios or Disneyland. They don’t come to Riverside.”

      “I’m not looking to attract the international traveler. A lot of local people can’t afford a hundred bucks to get into a big, fancy park. For a family of four, that’s four hundred dollars. That was my house payment when your mom and I first got married, and that was high-end. Locals can come here for thirty per person, have a great time and go home feeling like they haven’t dropped a bundle. I’m not looking for the international traveler, but the local people who don’t want to compete with the whole world for a day of fun.”

      “I think you’re making a mistake, Dad,” Jake said wearily, yet still determined to make one last pitch. “You can’t compete with the big people, and I don’t care how cheap you make it.”

      “I never wanted to be a big-ticket park.” His father shook his head. “Do you think people don’t remember Citrus Grove? Half the people who work here were attendees before they ever got a job here. And a lot of people come because their parents came here. We are about family memories. We’re a vital part of this city. I never expected you or your sister to take over the park. It was never your thing, but John II loves it here. He’s the future. He’s why I changed my mind about selling.”

      “But Dad,” Jake said in the soothing tone he used on his more agitated clients, “you’re sixty-seven.” I’m not giving up, Jake thought, just making a strategic retreat. Though he had to admire the passion in his father.

      His father’s gaze rested on Merry. “Sixty-seven is the new forty,” his father retorted. “I don’t want to retire, Jacob. I want to get up every morning and find new ways to make people happy.”

      In his pocket his phone vibrated, but he ignored it. It was probably Alicia Mortensen; she didn’t like being ignored. “Don’t you want to sit back and have some fun?”

      “I am having fun. I’m having fun with my grandkids. I’m having fun with my customers. I’m even having fun with Miss Alcott. You see her over there,” John continued with a broad smile. “She’s having fun, too.”

      Jake followed his father’s gaze. “She’s measuring a tree.”

      “Even the tree knows how to have fun, unlike you.”

      “I know how to have fun.” He tried to think of the last time he’d actually had fun that didn’t include a neurotic client. He came up blank.

      “Really,” John said, with a piercing look at his son.

      Merry glanced up and waved at John. John waved back, his face alight with happiness. For a moment, Jake was transported back to his childhood, going round and round on the carousel. He’d been happy at that moment, but even then he’d known the park wasn’t his destiny. He’d always wondered why the magic of the park had never worked for him or for Evelyn.

      “Miss Alcott is a retired child actress,” Jake said.

      “If I remember correctly, you never missed that show she was in,” his father said with a grin.

      Jake stirred uncomfortably. Sometimes his father remembered the oddest things. “And you could be sailing off into the sunset in that boat you’ve never used.”

      “Not yet. I have plenty of time to sail my boat.” John’s gaze rested on Merry as she held her sketchbook, her hand moving rapidly.

      “Maybe it’s those dark circles you have under your eyes, old man,” Jake said. “You look tired.”

      “I’m not sleeping because I’m excited about the prospect of revitalizing this park. You should take a look at her drawings. She has a vision for what the park is eventually going to look like,” John said. “And I’m not just talking about Christmas.”

      Jake said nothing. Merry had moved over to the go-kart track, and stood beneath the shade of a palm tree. She’d retrieved a camera from her pocket and was taking a photo of the track. Then she returned to her sketchbook.

      He wasn’t winning this battle, but he could still win the war. Maybe what he needed to do was play along for the moment. With the new improvements, the price could go up. He could still win this. He just needed to keep his hand in everything. “You’re right, Dad,” Jake conceded. “Let me help you. I’ll oversee the money. Keep everything on budget.”

      “I’ve been handling my own money since you left for school.”

      “Handling money can be a burden. Let me take that burden off your shoulders so you can concentrate on the park and have more fun with Evelyn and your grandchildren.”

      John glanced at his son, indecision on his face. “I never made you work in the park when you were a kid because you just didn’t have it in you. But I’m going to accept your offer with gratefulness and gracefulness. Because it will make you feel better if you can keep an eye on me. If you want to pretend I’m a drooling, addlepated old man, that’s okay with me.” He turned around and left, whistling as he sauntered down the path toward the carousel.

      Jake watched his father leave, knowing he hadn’t fooled the old man, but he did feel better. This way he could keep Merry from frittering the money away on stupid stuff.

      * * *

      Merry sketched out an idea for the center island of the go-kart track. In her mind’s eye, she could see a huge Christmas tree, bright with lights and large ornaments. Stacks of large boxes wrapped in different colors with bows decorating the tops could be strewn beneath the branches. Maybe a big fluffy dog hidden behind the boxes would add interest.

      She moved along the edge of the go-kart track, ever conscious of Jake Walters’s gaze on her. He’d be really hot if he wasn’t such a stick-in-the-mud. If only he would smile. He had a nice face and handsome eyes, but the austere expression and the rigid way he stood made him seem distant and aloof. She took out her tape measure and measured a section of fence surrounding the track. She entered the dimensions and then counted all the sections. She doubted she’d string any Christmas lights around the bars, but it never hurt to have a complete picture of what she could do.

      She glanced at Jake Walters standing by the flagpole, watching her. His head was tilted to one side as he listened to his father. Despite John’s enthusiasm, she could see that Jake didn’t share it. His body was stiff and unyielding and he clearly didn’t want to listen to his father. John’s body was loose and flexible as he gestured with his hands. She could see enthusiasm in every mannerism John exhibited. She didn’t understand why Jake didn’t get it. This park was magical in its own way. Not like the others, but in a more down-to-earth manner.

      John walked away whistling, leaving Jake standing by the flagpole. Merry knew Jake wanted his father to sell the park, and he would probably do what he could to talk John into accepting the terms of the sale. Just from the way they stood, she could tell they were both determined men. Maybe accepting this job wasn’t the smartest move on her part; she’d better start thinking about contingency plans. She still had contacts at Universal Studios from her intern days, and they’d start shooting the midseason replacement shows soon. She’d worked for them for a year before the Chapman Brothers had come back to her with a better offer, but now that she’d ended that association she’d better start thinking ahead again.

      “My father says you’ve done some drawings to show your plans for the park. May I see them?” Jake asked.

      Merry started. He’d crept up on her while she’d been caught in her thoughts. “Yeah, sure,” she said. “Come on.” She led the way back to her dingy little office.

      She spread the plans out across her desk and drawing table. She rubbed her thumb nervously against her thigh. He hadn’t said a word; he simply stared at them, thumbing through the drawings.

      She was deeply conscious of how he made her office seem smaller and even more dingy. He was a man who overpowered