Work Text:
Cindy “Mac” Mackenzie hated being late. Even when she was late to something she didn’t want to do. Even when she had a good excuse. Well, a semi-good excuse. Helping your little brother level-up in Halo was not a national emergency, but it definitely fell into the bucket of things that good people did. And she was determined to be a good person. That was, after all, what had gotten her into this mess of going to something she really didn’t want to go to.
Mac was on her way to volunteer at the CC Center’s annual holiday party for kids as part of the Kane Kares group. Like many large companies, Kane Software organized volunteer activities for its employees to give the impression that the company cared about the community. Kane liked to promote that they were all about “karing”, especially during the holidays.
Participating in Kane Kares was a strictly optional activity, and Mac had definitely not intended to opt in. She, by nature, was not a joiner. She was more comfortable being Q, hanging back in her lab making brilliant things happen. And, as an engineer, the company didn’t really expect her to take part. Engineers, especially ones as good as she was, were in high demand. The company made sure they were well taken care of — great pay, free meals, and definitely no mandatory volunteer activities. Kane left those oxymoronic extra-curriculars to less valuable teams like the marketing group.
When all the all-company emails about the holiday volunteer opportunities had gone out, Mac - like all her engineer colleagues - deleted them unread. She ignored the posters in the kitchen. And when the HR folks wandered through her department, making their half-hearted attempt to sign up some engineers, she hid in a conference room, pretending to be on a conference call. Luckily no one from HR noticed when the phone she was supposedly speaking into rang with an incoming call.
But, all Mac’s good intentions to not do any good went out the window the evening her ex broke up with her over Skype.
“You don’t care about anyone but yourself, and your job. Actually strike that, you don’t care about your job. You just care about the salary.”
Mac started to defend herself, “You know that’s not true. I had to move back to Neptune for my dad.”
“But he’s better now. Health score back to 100, right? Right?”
“Yes, but…”
The ex interrupted, “And you’re still there. Not back here like you promised. You told me you loved San Francisco. You told me that Neptune was horrible and there was no way you would stay there more than 6 months. But. You’re. Still. There.”
Mac had given up on trying to plead her case. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this argument, but she hadn’t expected it to be the last.
She was surprised, though, when he had ended his rant with, “You don’t care about me. You don’t care about us. You only care about you. You are not a good person. We’re done.” He immediately hung up, and when Mac attempted to call him back, she found he’d blocked her account.
Logically, Mac knew her ex was spouting nonsense. He was a brilliant programmer, but his people skills needed help. It didn’t help that his startup was doing exceptionally well. He was surrounded by flunkies, hanging on his every word, taking up his hobbies, doing whatever they could to be a part of his inner circle. When Mac had first met him their senior year at Hearst, it was before all the success. He had been grounded. But the Silicon Valley echo chamber had gotten to him, and his current definition of a good person was someone who did what he wanted. The ex was no longer much of a good person himself.
So logically, Mac knew she should ignore his parting comment. She knew the relationship was over, and had been for a while. But, emotionally, it was hard to shrug off the accusation. It looped in her brain, like a song stuck in her head. Like a bad song stuck in her head. Like that Rob Thomas song that the ex had loved, but she had always hated.
The next morning, the loop continued as she was at her desk at work. “What does he mean, I’m not a good person. I’m good. I’m so fracking good, I’m the picture in the Wikipedia entry for good.” And when a new all-company email landed in her inbox, “Last chance to sign up for Kane Kares at the holidays!”, she didn’t immediately delete it.
She opened the email, muttering “I’m so good I volunteer. I “kare” damn it.”
As Mac perused the volunteer opportunities, she realized her caring did have some limits. She didn’t really care enough to be stuck in the great outdoors for a day restoring hiking trails. She was more of an inside-carer. She was also slightly freaked out by anything that involved a public performance, like caroling at the senior center. She was an inside-behind-the-scenes carer. Some of the animal charity activities looked doable, but they were quite popular, and there weren’t any spots left.
Finally, towards the bottom of the list, Mac saw the holiday party at the CC Center. The blurb described how the center provided daycare and after school programs at little to no cost, and how they had won awards for their programs to identify and treat abuse. The reference to abuse grabbed Mac’s attention. Through a hospital baby-switch snafu, she had ended up with great, loving, supportive parents, but some of her high school friends had not been so lucky. Abuse had led to murder. If only someone had noticed. If only someone had cared. If only some good person had stepped in.
Mac usually avoided thinking about the past. For her own mental health it was usually best avoided. But, before she could second-guess herself, she signed up for the kids’ party. She would do her part. How bad could it be?
She almost immediately regretted her decision when she glanced through the sign-up confirmation instructions, especially once she read the line, “We will supply your elf costumes at the center, so no need to bring your own.”
She couldn’t help but reply back to the screen, “Wait. What? Elf costume? I thought elf was just cutesy speak for helper. There’s a costume? What was I thinking?”
Two weeks later, on the day of the party, Mac was still wondering what she had been thinking. But, she had committed to volunteer, and was not going to flake. She fully intended to be on time. But then her brother had called for help with Halo, and gave her a sob story about needing to impress a girl. Before she knew it, it was twenty minutes past the time she was supposed to leave for the children’s center.
So there she was, on the way to a thing she didn’t want to do, running late.
Mac pulled into the parking lot of the center, deep in the poorer ‘02 zip code. She puzzled at the sign slightly. It read “Welcome to the CC Center for Children.”. She had assumed one of the C’s in CC had stood for Children, but that didn’t make sense since “for Children” was tacked on at the end. She didn’t give it any more thought, though, as she ran to the front entrance. By breaking a few traffic laws, she had managed to pick up some time and was only ten minutes late.
Slightly out of breath, Mac approached the young woman sitting at the reception desk. “I’m here for the party.” Mac grabbed a quick breath, and kept grabbing them in between each rushed sentence fragment. “Um, Kane Kares. Um, I’m an elf. Sorry I’m late. I’m Mac, well Cindy, Cindy Mackenzie. I probably should have started with that.”
The receptionist looked at Mac kindly, “Hi Cindy, Cindy Mackenzie. I’m Gloria, Gloria Navarro. Don’t worry you’re not late. In fact you’re the first Kane Kares volunteer to arrive.”
“Oh.” Mac crinkled her brow in confusion and reached for her phone to check the time, not trusting the big wall clock right over the reception area. “But it’s 3:40, my instructions said to be here at 3:30.”
“The party organizers don’t trust you volunteers to show up on time.” Mac glanced up from her phone with a small, guilty smile, as Gloria continued, “So they always put an early start on the instructions. But, the volunteers know the time is set early, so they show up late. It’s now practically a holiday tradition around here.”
“Oh,” was all Mac could think of to say again. The adrenaline from racing to get there was starting to subside, and now she wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself.
Seeing her discomfort, Gloria pointed Mac down the hall. “Don’t worry. You’re the first Kane volunteer, but you’re not the first overall. Our Santa is here too. He could probably use some help. And even if he doesn’t, you can help keep him out of trouble. Just look for the North Pole.”
Mac started to ask for clarification on how to find the North Pole, but just at that moment a big family arrived with a screaming toddler, pulling Gloria’s attention away.
So Mac made her own way down the hall, trying to look out for the North Pole. She was relieved to come to a door covered in misshapen paper snowflakes that were clearly the product of an after-school craft project. In the middle of the snowflakes a glittery sign read, “North Pole. Santa and Elves only.”
Mac wasn’t sure whether to just go in or knock first. And as she stood there deliberating, a teacher walked by. “Can I help you?”
“Yeah, um, I’m an elf? I’m looking for Santa?” She made a slight grimace, “There’s two sentences I never thought I’d say.”
The teacher smiled, “That’s kids for you. They make you do lots of things you never thought you’d do. Go on in. You’re in the right place.”
Mac called out as she pushed open the snowflake door, “Hi, I’m looking for … Dick?”
The blond surfer was in the middle of taking off his t-shirt. He looked over in surprise, breaking out in a huge smile as soon as he recognized who had called his name, “Mac!”
Mac just stared back in response, until Dick prompted her, “Mac? That is you right? Not some evil twin? Or maybe you’re the good twin? Or the evil twin pretending to be the good twin?”
Mac finally cut him off, “Hi Dick. Sorry. I was just surprised to see you here.” She took a closer look at his outfit, well, partial-outfit. It wasn’t that unusual to see Dick without a shirt, at least at the beach, but the bulky, red fuzzy pants were not usual Casablancas-wear.
“So, you’re Santa?”, she asked skeptically.
“Yup. Why so surprised? I make an excellent Santa. I have extensive experience in giving presents.”
“To children?” Dick only raised his eyebrows and grinned in response. Mac continued, “Sorry, I just always pictured Santa older.”
“Yeah, the old dude who usually does it, Mr. Roa? He had a heart attack this morning.” Dick looked down at the ground, “He’s a cool dude. Hope he’s okay.”
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that, but why are you substitute Santa?”
Dick looked up, grinning, “Who wouldn’t want to be Santa? Souped-up sled, fabulous missus, he even surfs.”
Mac couldn’t help but smile in response, “That’s not what I … how do you even know about this place?”
At that, Dick looked surprised. “Well, ‘cause it’s my place. Well, not strictly speaking, “mine”. It’s an independent 503(c)(3) charity with a board of trustees and everything. And I’m not even on the board, though they keep asking me to be.”
Mac interrupted, “Who are you and what have you done with Dick Casablancas?”
Just as Dick was about to start explaining, the door swung open, and a bunch of Kane Kares volunteers started crowding into the room. Dick changed course, “Stick around afterwards? I’ll explain then.”
“Okay.”
Mac got pulled away into the hustle and bustle of preparing for the party. She was very relieved when the elf costume turned out to be a green t-shirt with a giant Kane logo on the back, and a felt hat. She was even more relieved when she was assigned to take the photos of the kids with Santa. It was a lot of work, but much easier than trying to entertain the families waiting their turn. It also allowed her to observe Santa Dick.
Dick turned out to be a really good Santa. His easy charm and natural goofiness appealed to the kids. He knew just what to say to each of them, and even the shy ones enjoyed themselves. Dick seemed to know a lot about the kids’ lives. He spoke Spanish to the ones who were more comfortable in that language, and knew whether to ask about siblings, parents, or grandparents.
“Hey little dudette. Have you been good this year? Minding your abuela? Looking after your little bro? It’s very important to be nice to little bros.”
And if sometimes his patter wasn’t traditional Santa-speak, no one seemed to mind.
“Yo, Martin. Lookin’ good. Love the haircut. Bet the girls do too. How’s 2nd grade treating you?”
It took about 2 hours for all the kids to have their Santa visit. As Santa Dick waved farewell, Mac helped pack up the photo gear. Once that was done, she slumped into a chair, partially hidden in a dark corner. She had enjoyed taking the photos, but it was exhausting.
The receptionist, Gloria, noticed Mac in the corner.
“Thanks for all your help today. I saw some of the photos. They turned out great. The parents are really happy.”
Mac, embarrassed by the compliment, replied, “Oh, thanks. It was nothing. Sorry to be hiding out like this. What can I help out with now?”
Gloria smiled, ”Relax. You’ve done your bit. Other than Santa, being the photographer is the toughest gig at this party. Feel free to go before they rope you into clean-up duty. After all, you were the first to arrive, you’ve earned the right to be the first to leave.”
Mac looked up gratefully, and started making her way back to the North Pole. Once at the door, she recalled her prior visit, and knocked loudly before entering.
“Hello, anyone there?” Mac looked around just in case there were any kids nearby, “Santa?”
From inside the room, Dick yelled out in response to the knock, “Santa has left the building, but if you’re an elf, especially a hot one, come on in.”
Mac laughed as she entered the room, “I don’t know about the hot, but I am an elf.”
“Don’t lie. You know all about the hot.”
Mac stared over at Dick, trying to decide how to respond to that comment. Dick stared right back.
Mac broke eye contact first. “Anyway. Um. So the center, you said it was yours?”
Dick explained how he had become involved in the center. His senior year at Hearst there had been a bad incident involving binge drinking at a frat party. The Dean had learned from his predecessor’s mistake and didn’t try to ban the frats. Instead he imposed mandatory community service, and set up a system so the brothers couldn’t just buy their way out of it.
“I signed up for after-school tutoring.”
“Giving or receiving?”
Dick smiled at Mac and gave a more thoughtful answer than she expected, “Both, I guess. The center was a lot smaller then. Just a small hall at the church. They assigned me to a fourth grader, Joe.” Dick paused and turned his head to look out the window, “He reminded me a lot of Cassidy at that age.”
Dick looked back at Mac and then down at his feet.
Mac suddenly realized what the CC in the center’s name stood for. “You named it after him.”
“Yeah. Apparently when you pay for a cool new facility, you get to name it. Couldn’t use his full name of course.”
Dick didn’t have to spell out to Mac that it would not have been acceptable to name a children’s center after someone who had murdered a busload of high school students.
“Does anyone else know? Does anyone else know what CC means?”
“I think some guessed, but if you write a check with enough zeros before the decimal point, people tend to look the other way. That’s one lesson my parents taught me. How else could I have gotten into Hearst?” Dick continued, “The lawyers came up with a story that CC stands for “Casablancas Cares” but the paperwork is all just CC.”
“I’m glad.”
Dick tilted his head, looking puzzled.
“I mean I’m not glad that you had sucky parents. I’m not glad you had to use his initials, but I’m glad that something good is named after him. That there is something good associated with his name, or his initials, at least.”
The other Kane Kares volunteers started returning to the room to collect their things.
The head volunteer, Jennifer from Marketing, was checking in with everyone to make sure they had rides over to the restaurant for their Kane-sponsored post-volunteer dinner. These dinners were legendary at the company, and were what motivated many of the volunteers to take part. It wasn’t unusual for the dinner to last twice as long as the volunteer activity it was celebrating. An open bar tab more than made up for the traditionally mediocre food.
As Jennifer made her way around the room, she kept looking over at Dick, who once again hadn’t found the time to put a shirt on. She finally sidled up to him, “You’re coming too, right Santa? You’re all I want for Christmas.“
Dick grinned back, “Let me check. Have you been naughty or nice?”
“Naughty, of course”
“See you there.”
Jennifer then walked away, and Dick turned back to Mac, catching the end of an eye roll he chose to ignore.
“So Mac, you need a ride over to the restaurant?”
“No, I drove myself. Plus, I think I’m going to pass on the big after-party.”
“Oh.”
“Bye Dick. It was good to run into you. You made a surprisingly good Santa.”
Mac waved goodbye to her fellow volunteers, and left the North Pole room. She had made it halfway back to the reception before she heard Dick calling her name down the hallway.
“Mac, wait up.” She stopped and waited until he caught up with her, “You’re not skipping the dinner because of me, are you? ‘Cause I don’t have to go. I mean, I’m not even with Kane.”
“Dick. Stop. I’m not skipping the dinner because of you. Okay? I just don’t want to hang out with drunken co-workers trading office gossip, or even worse, Kane family gossip. At the picnic last summer, some Finance guy kept going on about how he knew the real story behind Duncan’s disappearance. He kept mentioning operations in Brazil.”
“Oh. That’s messed up.”
“Yup.”
“Well, if you’re not going to the dinner, why don’t you just come to dinner with me?”
The question was asked casually, but they both knew it was not a casual question. Mac didn’t respond right away. She remembered their conversation about the center. She remembered how good he was with the kids - how he seemed to really know them. She would never have agreed to go to dinner with high school Dick or college Dick, but grown-up Dick seemed different. He seemed, well, grown-up.
Mac finally took a deep breath, “I’d like that. That would be good.“
“Forget good. It’ll be great.”