She lowers the camera, grinning. “We’re going on a research expedition for the parade. And I thought it would make great content for my channel. ‘Small Town Christmas Magic: Parade Planning Edition.’ What do you think?”
Before I can formulate a proper response, Paige has bustled past me into the house.
“Research expedition?” I ask, watching as Paige surveys my living room and then plops herself down on the coffee table.
“Yep. We’re going to Millbrook. They’re famous for their Christmas decorations. I figured we could get some inspiration for the parade and create some amazing content for my viewers.”
I blink, surprised. “Millbrook? I haven’t been there in years. You want to film it?” I thought I read something about it being nicknamed Christmas City because every resident decorates as if they’re a Griswold.
“All the more reason to go,” Paige declares. She hops up and grabs my coat from the hook by the door, and tosses it to me. “Come on, what do you say? Want to be my cinematographer for the day?”
“Okay,” I find myself saying, shrugging into my coat. “Let’s do it. I’ll... I’ll help with the filming.” I have zero experience with filming anything. I didn’t take photography in high school and I haven’t wanted to try it. I’m not even sure what she’s looking for. Though I’ve seen her channel so I might be able to get close. If she trusts me to do this, then I have to trust myself.
She hands me the camera. “Perfect. Let’s make some Christmas magic.”
The drive to Millbrook is filled as she films an introduction for her vlog. I watch the familiar landscape of Benton Falls give way to rolling hills dusted with snow and bare trees, reaching branches to a pearl-gray sky heavy with the promise of more snow.
As we near Millbrook, the transformation is gradual but unmistakable. First, it’s just a few more strings of lights here and there. Then, elaborately decorated mailboxes and lawn ornaments. By the time we reach the town proper, it’s like we’ve stepped into a Christmas snow globe.
Every building is festooned with lights and garlands. Wreaths adorn every door, their red ribbons fluttering in the crisp breeze. The lampposts are wrapped in evergreen boughs and big red bows, looking for all the world like candy canes. And everywhere, the twinkling of thousands upon thousands of lights–even in the daytime. You can’t see them as well, but it’s kind of neat that they leave them on.
“Wow,” I breathe, taking it all in.
Paige is practically bouncing with excitement. “Isn’t it amazing? Let’s start filming. We need to capture all of this.”
As we park and start to explore on foot, I feel like I’m inside a children’s Christmas book.
Being behind the camera allows me to notice details I might have otherwise missed. I find myself directing Paige to certain spots, suggesting angles that will capture the magic of the scene.
“Noah, this is fantastic,” Paige exclaims as we pause to film a particularly elaborate nativity scene. “You have such an eye for detail. The footage is going to be amazing.”
I feel a flush of pride at her words. “It’s nothing special,” I say, but there’s less self-deprecation in my tone than usual. “It’s like looking for the right perspective to use on a drawing. It’s easier than I thought it would be.”
As we continue our tour of the town, I find myself relaxing more and more. Since I’m familiar with her work, ideas come quickly. I suggest she try on a ridiculous Christmas sweater in a local shop, sample homemade fudge at a candy store, and pose like many of the snowmen around town. She can do a music video montage thing with those shots. It’ll be great.
I’d watch it.
Several times.
“Let’s stop for lunch.” Paige rubs her belly as if it needs consolation that it doesn’t have food yet.
“There’s a Chinese place up the street.” I point that way. “Egg rolls?”
She furrows her brow in mock seriousness. “And everything else. I love Chinese food.” She stows her camera and I take her hand. We go inside and order. It’s a pretty straightforward menu. We’ll split an order of orange chicken, but we both want two egg rolls and our own containers of ham fried rice.
“Noah,” Paige says as we slide into one of their booths. “have you ever thought about doing this professionally? You’re really good at it.”
I pause, considering her words. “I can honestly say that I have not.”
Paige’s eyes light up, and she laughs. “Well, maybe you should. You clearly have a talent for it. Just something to think about.”
Her words plant a seed in my mind, a possibility I’d never considered before. I have to tuck it away to consider later. There’s no downtime with Paige. She’s always thinking, always moving. Though, I’ve noticed that she doesn’t mind if I sit still for a while.
“Oh. Look at that.” She points to a small storefront across the street, its window filled with an eclectic mix of paintings and sculptures. “Is that an art gallery? We should check it out. It would be great for the vlog.”
“I’m game.” I’ve explored most of the galleries within a three-hour radius. I must have missed this one. Or it’s new. I don’t know if she’s really interested in going inside or if she’s doing this for me. Either way, my heart is a little more hers.
We eat way too much orange chicken and clear our table before heading over to the gallery.
