Page 8 of A Not So Merry Kiss-mas
A tiny spark of excitement shoots through me, and my eyes expand just as my mouth forms an ‘o’. “Yup.” She nods and beams, “There’s still hope yet.”
Pulling my beanie over my hair, my mouth splits into a big grin. I back toward the stairs before turning to break into a jog, adrenaline buzzing through my veins.
“Michael, you’re not wearing a coat?”
I wave a hand over my shoulder and shout back, “I’ll be fine, it’s not that cold out.” Her chuckle follows me down the stairs.
When I push the building’s door open, a gust of wind slams into me, sending a shiver through my entire body. I scoff. “Yeah, tough guy. Mrs. F was right…again. You’re gonna need that coat. ”
Cedar Vale is taking on the appearance of a small town in a Hallmark Christmas movie more and more every day. Wreaths are draped over the lantern-style lamps, red ribbons hanging from the bottom, and twinkle lights wrapped around their base.
Glancing across the street, I see the Mayor and his wife, with the help of some elves—staffers literally dressed up in full costumes, finishing up the tree decorations.
“Hey Mike,” Mayor Wilson calls out, waving at me. “Are you going to make it to the tree lighting this year?”
“Unofficially, yes!” I wave, smiling at him. “I’ll have the day off. Next Wednesday evening, right?”
“Yup,” Molly Wilson answers. “Looking forward to seeing you there! Will your mom be up for the holiday?”
My mom, now a Florida snowbird for a few years since Dad passed, visits in the summer. But since she loves seeing Cedar Vale’s holiday decorations, we have the same ritual every year.
“She’ll be here through video chat.” I snicker, and Mrs. Wilson’s lips purse as she dips her chin. She never could understand people who didn't want snow during the winter.
“Please wish her a Merry Christmas for me,” she says right before the town's online paper comes to take photos of the festive group.
The smell of ground espresso beans pulls me toward the local coffee shop, and a small moan escapes. I pull open the door to Cedar Brew, bells tinkling overhead, and step into line and glance over the menu. It’s more habit than necessity since I know what I’m getting.
Coffee, black. What can I say? I’m a simple guy.
“Good morning.” I lean to the side of the person standing in front of me for a view of the counter. Wanting to know if the voice I just heard is indeed my lovely neighbor. “Can I get a large coffee with one sugar, cream, and—”
“Nutmeg and clove?” The person behind the register asks, and the most beautiful laughter fills the air. My heart thumps at the sound, and the corner of my lip curls up. Is that a smile on Melanie’s face? She’s stunning normally, but with a smile…whoa! I feel myself being dragged to her like iron to a magnet, and find myself cutting line to stand next to her, apologizing to the people I’m cutting as I go.
The girl continues, “Dana had us put some on the self-serve counter, so now you can use as little or as much as you want. Apparently, you started a trend.”
“It’s a good trend to start.” Melanie teases, cracking an actual joke. My jaw drops. This is definitely not the Melanie I get—grumpy glares and all. My stomach tightens, and a surge of jealousy runs through my veins at the person who’s receiving the warmth I crave.
“Great move by Dana,” I join the conversation, and catch Melanie jumping at the sound of my voice. “Even I have to admit that it’s pretty good.”
The cashier grins at me. “Weird, but true.” And we both chuckle.
Melanie’s smile immediately vanishes, and her eyes narrow slightly. But then her gaze travels from my feet back to my face. A slight tinge of pink stains her cheek as she meets my eyes. My heart clenches, and I swallow, pushing down the cotton suddenly stuck in my throat.
What just happened?
A surge of happiness shoots through me, and I beam at her. She, on the other hand, rolls her eyes and turns toward the pick-up counter.
“What can I get for you?” The cashier asks, pulling my attention away from Melanie.
“Just a cup of black coffee. But can you include the two people behind me in my order?” I lean over the counter and whisper, “I did cut them off.”
She grins and nods. “Absolutely. What would you like?” she asks the people behind me.
They place their order, and my gaze is once again pulled to Melanie. She’s staring at her phone.
As frustrating as it is to be shunned by her with every encounter, today gave me a tiny bit of insight into her interactions with others.
Maybe this is more about past hurts than anything to do with me? And did she check me out? A lopsided grin teases my face.
