Some links may be affiliate links. We get money if you buy something or take an action after clicking one of these links on our site.
Christmas All The Time is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to Amazon.com. As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.
Vingt Américain
“So, what’s the plan?” Ryan looked over Bob’s shoulder.
“Okay, so this one is going to be an arts and crafts workshop. Storyteller’s theater over there. Christmas cookie workshop over there. Santa’s photo studio and some other stuff that’s on page two.”
“Arts and crafts workshop? So, tables, shelves, coat trees?”
“Yeah, the daycare people and a bunch of retirees are going to be in here helping kids make handmade tree ornaments and suchlike.”
“That’s nice.” Ryan itched his stubbly cheek. “Where should we start?”
“Okay, we’ve got these plans for wall units. Got supply shelves, coat pegs and cubby holes. We’ll work on the easy stuff first.”
“Works for me.”
“Hey, you look a lot better than you did this weekend. Guess you shook your cold?”
“I actually got a decent night’s sleep.”
“Good for you.” Bob grabbed a drill and a bag of screws. “Trouble sleeping?”
“Usually.”
“Sorry to hear it. Glad you caught a break last night.”
Ryan shrugged. “You won’t believe it.”
“You wore yourself out putting all this stuff up yesterday?” Bob knelt down beside a stack of wood.
“That was part of it, but…” He thought about it a moment. “I got propositioned yesterday.”
“You don’t say.”
“At church, if you can believe it.”
Bob set some pieces together and ran a few screws in. “Sure, I can believe it. You’re an alright-looking guy. Bet there are more where she came from.”
“I didn’t go looking for it.”
Bob shrugged. “Hey, grab that board and pull out, um, eight, yeah eight of those pegs.”
“Sure.” Ryan picked pegs from a bucket. “Church was over and, boom, there she is.”
“No kidding.”
“Bold as brass.”
Bob took a peg from Ryan. “Chick with brass. Nothing wrong with that. You like her?”
“Guess we’ll see.” Ryan picked up the long board.
Bob mounted the peg and screwed it in place. “I don’t follow.”
“She asked me to dinner.”
“Better by the moment. When?”
“That’s the problem.” Ryan handed him another peg.
“How does dinner get to be a problem? She a vegan or something?”
“I’m broke. I blew my last few bucks the other day and I won’t get paid until Friday.”
“I can spot you a few.”
“You don’t have to do that.” Ryan handed him another peg.
Bob screwed it in place. “Why? Don’t you like her?”
“I’m not sure how I feel.”
Bob shook his head. “Bah, dinner’s just dinner. Don’t overthink it.”
“Ryan?” Carol’s voice.
He turned to find her looking into Santa’s photo studio. A quick look overhead assured him there was no mistletoe this time. “Hey.”
“How’s it coming along?”
He shrugged. “It looks like a lot, but we’re mostly done. Mr. Townsend’s really got this stuff squared away.”
“Mm-hmm.” She nodded. “We had this worked out a couple weeks back. He had the guys cutting and marking the pieces before you got here.”
“Thanks again for helping me.”
“Sure.”
“I guess we’re doing some more decorating out here tomorrow.”
She looked around. “Just some finishing touches, I think.”
“Look, can we go grab a cup of coffee or something?”
“Are you done?”
“I was going to head back to the church and clean up.”
“We can swing through the Zavijava on the way.”
“I’d appreciate that. I need to ask you something.”
“Okay, my car is right over there.” She walked with him and unlocked it.
He looked it over. “Nicer than that beater your dad bought you.”
“That thing lasted me forever.” She laughed. “I only got this a year or so ago.”
“Suits you better. You’re classy now.” He climbed in.
“Hey, hey, I was classy back then.”
He buckled up. “Not with a bum like me dragging you down.”
“We were just kids.” She backed out of the spot. “Where did you go?”
He hung his head. “To hell and back.”
“Sorry.”
“Not as sorry as I am.”
“Look, that’s all over now. Okay? You don’t owe me anything.” She turned onto the main drag through town.
“I felt bad about running away from you the other day.” He looked out at the passing shops.
“It wasn’t fair of me to try to pin you down.”
“Agreed.”
She shot him a look. “So, you’re a monk now?”
“Huh?”
“Would it be so bad to have kissed me under the mistletoe?”
“Yeah, I think so. Sorry. It wouldn’t be a good idea.” He studied the passing storefronts.
“Look, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“It was what it was. We can’t go back. I don’t think it would do either of us any good to try to start over.”
“You’re probably right.”
“Besides, you’ve got that…”
“Nathan?”
“Fancy guy. Funny goatee.”
“Yes, that’s Nathan. I think it’s probably overstating it to say I have him.”
Ryan turned. “He kissed you.”
“He did?”
“At City Hall last week.”
“Oh, that’s just Nathan being Nathan. He doesn’t mean anything he says or does unless it’s business.”
“Guess I misread.”
“Me, too.” She whispered as she pulled into the Zavijava’s parking lot. “Want to go in or just drive through?”
“Drive through is fine.” He itched his cheek. “Got to get back and clean up.”
“Got a hot date?” She smiled.
“Don’t know how hot it is, but yeah.”
“Really? Anybody I know?”
“Do you know a lady named Marta?”
“Marta Kwock? She does graphics and web stuff for me sometimes. She doesn’t strike me as your type.”
“She thinks I’m her type.”
“Uh-huh.” Carol pulled up to the menu board. “What can I get you?”
“You don’t—”
“My treat. What do you want?”
“Black coffee is fine.” He shrugged.
“Welcome to Zavijava. What can I get for you today?”
“Haut Peppermint Dream Latte and a Vingt Américain.”
“Gotta be fluent in French to order coffee anymore.” Ryan smirked.
Carol shrugged and pulled up to the window to pay. “Guess that’s progress.”
He took the coffee cups and slipped them into her cupholders. “If that’s progress, I might as well go back in the joint.”
“Is that what’s bothering you?”
“Doesn’t it bother you?”
“It’s just a thing. I don’t know how you wound up there. I don’t need to know.” She pulled away from the Zavijava. “You did your time, and it’s over.”
“That’s what the pastor keeps saying.”
“He’s right.”
“Doesn’t feel that way.”
“Why? You think you got off early?”
“Early? No. Every minute in there is like being ground under a giant rock.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s mine.”
“I’m sorry anyway. Sorry you had to go through that.”
He nodded and took a swig of his coffee.
“So, you and Marta?”
“Guess we’ll see.”
“You don’t sound…”
“I’m nervous.”
“She asked you out?”
“Right in church, if you can believe it.”
“That’s nice. Good for you, Ryan.”
“I…”
She glanced over at him, disheartened by his sulking.
“I don’t deserve it, Carol. None of this. Pastor says it’s all about my making better choices, but…”
“Everybody deserves a second chance. Whatever you did to go to jail—”
“Is unforgivable.” He shook his head. “I don’t deserve to be happy, Carol.”
“Yes, you do. Everybody does.”
He wiped a tear away as he shook his head.
“Maybe you should hold off on dinner with Marta until you get your head on straight about this.”
“That’s the thing.”
She looked at him as she took a sip of her latte.
“I haven’t been sleeping well.”
“But?”
“Last night.”
“You finally did. Look, Ryan, maybe she’s just what you need.”
“Don’t deserve it.” He whispered.