The Christmas Layover

by Robert Tate Miller

  “Yes, heard from him.” She tried to keep the annoyance out of her tone but didn’t wholly succeed.

  “No, why would I?” Damn, this guy bugs me, she thought. Why am so I irritable? The answer was easy. She was supposedly about to get married, was stranded in the middle of nowhere, and her fiancé was missing. That was enough to piss off a monk. She took a calming breath.

  “I’m not suggesting you would, just asking. I’m out of town, and I can’t seem to locate him. I don’t know…I thought you guys might be hanging out, maybe having a little bachelor thing before he leaves.”

  “Oh no,” Jeff said. “I’m not even invited to the wedding.” Ally took her phone and pretended to bash her brains in with it. A little girl holding a large swath of pink cotton candy paused to watch. Ally gave her a toothy grin, and the little girl moved on.

  “Okay, sure. Sorry to bother you,” Ally said. “Just thought I’d check.” She heard him start to say something but hung up. She sat there thinking, trying to sort things out. She noticed a couple of young women pass by who she recognized as flight attendants from her plane. They had big cups of hot cocoa and seemed to be having a jolly old time. She stared at her barely charged phone for a moment, then got up and continued on her walk.

  As she crossed the green and worked her way through Santa’s Village, Ally saw Santa himself step out of the park bathroom, yanking up his big red pants. She nodded to him as she passed. She noticed with a little giggle that his zipper was undone.

  …

  Jake checked the old Santa Head clock on the wall above the jukebox in Charlie’s. Libby put the gaudy timepiece up each year right after Thanksgiving, and it usually stayed there until at least mid-January when she finally remembered it was time to take it down and put back the old Time 2 Eat clock. It was only five minutes past six, and the diner already had more than a half hour wait for a table. The stranded Flight 1225 from LAX to JFK had brought an overflow crowd, and they were all hungry. Jake noticed some of the locals giving up tables and sharing, doing their best to roll out a Bethlehem welcome mat. He stood behind the counter and watched as Libby greeted a family of four at the door.

  “Evening, folks, and welcome to Charlie’s. Let me put your name down, and we’ll get you seated as soon as possible.” Libby was overwhelmed, and Robbie had to be recruited from clearing tables and washing dishes to help wait on customers. The nineteen-year-old was a terrible server, always messing up the orders or taking them to the wrong table.

  “I’m dying back here!” cook Louie La Pierre grumbled when Jake headed back to the kitchen to try and make a dent in the stack of dirty dishes. “We’re almost out of eggs and soup, and the meat loaf’s running low. We’re not built for this!”

  Jake tried calling Tina for help, but she was coaching Maddie’s basketball game. He knew his mother wasn’t going to leave her guests, and everybody else he knew was either busy or hosting passengers. The always calm and cool Jake was starting to feel a little pressure. He moved from dishes to the register to helping Louie with the cooking. His cook was right. The little greasy spoon just wasn’t built for a diverted jumbo jet.

  “Jake, there’s somebody here to see you.” Libby poked her head through the swinging door and was gone again before Jake could respond. Louie shot Jake a “make it quick” look as he headed out to see about his visitor.

  “So, this is Charlie’s, huh?”

  Ally was standing at the counter smiling at him when Jake emerged from the kitchen. He stopped for a moment, suddenly feeling foolish. He was wearing a wet apron with soap suds on his hands. What I must look like to this beautiful, classy, big-city lady. What must she be thinking?

  “Nice look,” Ally said and nodded to his apron. Jake looked down. In his haste, he’d grabbed one of the joke aprons Louie kept on a hook in back, hoping that Libby or Robbie might grab one by mistake and embarrass themselves. It read hot stuff coming through. Jake felt his cheeks flush pink.

  “Oh, right,” he said. “Modesty is my signature trait.” Jake watched Ally look around, take the place in. “So, how can I help you…Ally?”

  “Is it always this crowded?”

  “Ah no,” Jake said. “We don’t often have big airplanes come to visit. We did have a busload of campers last summer on the way to Denver. But this easily tops that.”

  “Well,” Ally said, “I was just out for a walk and thought I’d stop in for a latte, but I guess I came at the wrong time.” She turned to go, and all Jake could think was stop her any way you can, you idiot.

  “No!” was the first thing that came out. Unfortunately, it came out a little too energetically, and the whole place suddenly fell into an awkward pall. All eyes went to him. He felt like he was center stage in the school play, and then recalled that he’d actually once been center stage in the fourth-grade play, and he’d blanked on his lines, leading to six months’ worth of ribbing from his buddies.

  Ally addressed the room of curious patrons. “It’s okay. I’ve got this.” They all fell back to their conversations like nothing happened. Ally gave Jake a curious glance. “No?”

  He put on his most sheepish grin. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out quite like that. It’s been pretty crazy around here since five thirty, and I guess I’m a little wired. You wanted a latte, right?”

  “That would be amazing.”

  “Sure,” Jake said. “Let me just… Wait, I don’t think we have lattes.” He called out to Libby, who was serving an order to a family of five. “Libby, we got any lattes?”

  “Lattes?” she said, and then without missing a beat, “Not latte-ly.” Jake shook his head and was happy to see that Ally was laughing.

  “Sorry,” he said. “We can hook you up, if you don’t mind straight coffee.”

  “Sure,” she said, “straight coffee sounds good.” Jake turned to fetch the pot and a coffee cup. “To go,” she added as he reached for a mug. He turned back to her.

  “As you wish, but I was hoping you’d stay and help us out.” Jake winked at her to make sure she knew he was only kidding. Yeah, right, he thought. Probably never gotten a speck of dirt on those hands of hers. He reached for the to-go cups and watched Ally looking around the diner as if conducting a mental survey. She had a pensive look on her face, and he wanted to ask if she was okay, but knew that would be a bit too familiar, especially in the middle of a crowded diner. He fixed the top on her cup and wondered if she’d like cream or sugar, but figured she’d ask if she wanted it. He looked toward the door, noticed the dozen or so people huddled there waiting on a table.

  “Sure,” Ally said. “I’ll help out.” Jake chuckled, and Ally folded her arms defiantly. Dammit, I’ve pissed her off twice in one day, he thought. “What? You don’t think I know how to work?” Ally challenged. She made no effort to keep the edge out of her voice. “I was waiting tables in New York when I was fifteen years old. Lied about my age to get a job. And how do you think I survived when I first got to L.A.? Washed dishes, too. Oh, I can also fix your plumbing.”

  Jake was decidedly impressed. Maybe he’d pegged the city girl wrong. He put her to-go cup on the counter in front of her, then waited for her to break into a grin and tell him it was only a joke, but she just looked at him. “Seriously?” he asked.

  “Seriously,” Ally said. “To be honest, you look pretty overwhelmed.”

  “Okay. You can wait tables,” he said. “If you’re sure you’re up to it.”

  “Are you trying to piss me off on purpose?” Ally asked.

  “No, I’m just—”

  Ally snatched the apron from around Jake’s waist. “I can cook a little bit, too,” she said. She tied the apron on. “I’ll expect to keep my tips and get this coffee and another free of charge. Now, show me my tables.”

  Chapter Seven

  Before she began her server shift, Ally insisted that Jake call his mother and let her know she wouldn’t be home for dinner, and to make sure Peggy told Noel where she was so she wouldn’t worry. Jake introduce
d her to the crew and put her right to work. What Ally realized, which Jake had no way of knowing, was that she welcomed the diversion. Waiting tables at Charlie’s helped take her mind off the fears that were swirling around in her brain. It allowed her to forget about Tim and the wedding and all the “I wonder”s for a little while.

  Ally found the little greasy spoon totally charming. She perused the framed photos along the wall by the front door. There were shots of a much younger Jake with a man who looked so much like him she assumed he had to be Charlie. There were photos of Charlie with Tina and Maddie and Peggy. Charlie was at the center of everything. Ally thought Charlie was handsome, with a big smile and kind eyes. I guess the good looks passed down to his son, she thought. Though he’d done nothing but rub her the wrong way from practically the moment she met him, Ally still had to admit Jake was fairly easy on the eyes.

  “That your dad on the wall?” Ally asked Jake as he totaled up one of her customer’s bills and handed the slip to her.

  “Yep. That’s Charlie,” he said. “He was quite a character.”

  “You guys look alike,” she said. She noticed Jake’s eyes rest on hers for a moment, and she could tell he considered that a compliment.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “I kinda dig this joint,” Ally said. “It’s got character.”

  “That it does,” Jake said. Jake held up the bill, and Ally snatched it playfully from his fingers, then pointed to a spot just south of his Adam’s apple.

  “You’ve got something there.” Jake fell for it, looked down, and she popped him on the chin with her finger. “Gotcha!” She laughed, and Jake shook his head.

  “Real mature.”

  “You’ve got to lighten up,” she said. “You’re so stiff. You know, you could use some yoga. Oh, wait. Almost forgot. You think yoga’s just new-age hooey.” Ally smiled as she turned away from him to the pickup window.

  “I didn’t mean anything by that,” Jake said.

  “It’s fine,” Ally said. “You were just speaking your mind. It’s cool.”

  “You’re good,” Libby said as she sidled up beside Ally at the pickup window. “You haven’t missed an order yet. I’ve been listening.”

  “Thanks,” Ally said. “I don’t know how you do this every day. I’ve been here a half hour, and I’m already spent.”

  “Hell,” Libby said, “if it was like this every day, I’d be in the nut house.”

  …

  By seven, the diner was out of eggs, the meatloaf was totally gone by seven thirty, and the last bite of apple pie went into the mouth of an airplane passenger from Brooklyn named Eddie at seven fifty. Jake sent Robbie out to the store twice, and it seemed that, every few minutes, Louie would emerge from the kitchen and announce something like, “We’re down to our last five rolls!” or “No more pastrami!” Ally found the customers surprisingly cool with it all. They were laughing, singing along to the holiday tunes on the diner jukebox, in good spirits. They seemed to understand that Charlie’s was operating way beyond capacity.

  Ally was surprised to find that, though the work was frenzied and exhausting, she actually had a good time. The locals were warm and welcoming, and the passengers always found it funny to be served by “one of their own.” She tried to remember what a restaurant manager had told her years ago, when she got her first job waiting tables.

  “Ally, if you want to clean up on tips, then treat each table as if it was your only table.”

  Ally remembered the sage advice and tried to act as if she wasn’t hurried at all and had all the time in the world, while still managing to get the orders quickly. She remembered to stop by and refill coffee cups and water glasses. She noticed when children spilled and was quick with a rag to wipe it up. She also noticed Jake noticing her. She’d catch him watching her. And, whenever she glanced in his direction, he’d quickly look away, like a bashful ten-year-old boy with a crush on his teacher. She found this both cute and endearing. Why hasn’t this guy been scooped up yet? she thought. Ally knew at least a half dozen girlfriends back in L.A. who would be on him in a minute, in more ways than one.

  “Okay, that’s it.”

  Libby locked the door ten seconds after the last customer strolled out at 9:37 p.m. Ally flopped into a booth with a “whew. Free at last.”

  “All right,” Jake said. “I’m proud of all of you. You absorbed the rush and didn’t miss a beat.”

  Louie emerged from the kitchen, holding a muffin in his hand. “I present to you the last muffin,” he said with a tired smile. He took a bite. “And it’s all mine.” Ally thought of her phone charging behind the counter. Suddenly, she slipped back to the troubled life where she was afraid of her own device. She looked at Jake. He had a tired smile on his face. Bet you thought I couldn’t roll up my sleeves and get dirty, she thought. Take that, country boy.

  Jake peeled off his apron, plopped it on the counter, and looked at Ally. “Walk you back?”

  …

  Ally tossed her scarf for another loop around her neck. It had gotten quite a bit colder. Jake walked quietly beside her, looking dapper in his long camel coat, red-and-green Burberry scarf, and pricey Nappa leather gloves. She wondered how a small-town diner owner could afford such attire, as everything he had on was top-of-the-line winter wear. She again thought of her phone deep in her coat pocket. She hadn’t looked at it. She didn’t want to spoil her happy mood.

  “We’ll take the scenic route,” he told her at the start of the walk from Charlie’s back to Peggy’s house. Ally wondered if maybe scenic also meant longer, as it seemed to be a roundabout way. She smiled at the thought Jake might be trying to buy more time with her.

  She looked at the houses on either side of the street. They seemed to all be competing with Peggy for most Christmassy. “Are all the streets like this?” she asked.

  “Oh no,” Jake said. “This is Candy Cane Lane. The gold standard for Christmas decorations.” Ally nodded. The walk reminded her a little of the scene in It’s a Wonderful Life where Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed strolled home after the Christmas dance.

  “So,” Ally ventured, “you’ve been in Bethlehem all your life?”

  “Well, I was born and raised here,” Jake said, “but I was away for several years.”

  “Away where?”

  “I went to college in Boston, and then worked in New York for a time.”

  “Oh?” Ally said. Just when she thought she had the diner owner figured out, he’d thrown her a curveball. “Where’d you go to college?”

  “Harvard,” Jake said. Ally was surprised he hadn’t let it slip before then. Most Harvard grads she knew found a way to let you know within two minutes of meeting them.

  “I think I’ve heard of it,” Ally said with a smile. “And what’d you do in New York?”

  “I wore a suit on Wall Street for a little while,” Jake said, “and then decided that wasn’t for me and ended up starting a business with my college roommate.”

  “What kind of business?” Ally asked.

  “Limousine company.”

  “Oh, and how did that turn out?”

  “Not bad,” Jake said. Ally realized she was going to have to fish for every tidbit of information with this guy.

  “Well, what’s the company called? Maybe I’ve heard of it.”

  “Gold Star Limousines.”

  Ally stopped and looked at him. “The Gold Star Limos? That’s you?” Jake nodded. Ally now knew how he could afford his pricey wintry duds. “I remember reading about those guys…you guys. The article said it was one of the best companies to work for, that the employees were so well taken care of.”

  “We tried,” Jake said.

  “Wow,” Ally said. “Is it okay if I’m impressed now?”

  Jake shrugged. “It’s just business.” But he had a small smile on his face as they continued walking.

  “So?” Ally asked. “What happened with you and Gold Star?”

  “Sold my interest when my dad got sick,�
�� Jake said. “I came home to help out and ended up taking over the diner after he passed.”

  “That’s quite a switch,” Ally said. “One day you’re running a successful company and the next you’re flipping burgers at a little diner in the middle of…” Ally stopped herself. She didn’t want to insult the town that had so generously welcomed her.

  “Nowhere,” Jake finished. “I guess I realized that what I valued most was to be happy. And I’m happy here. The ache for home lives in all of us.”

  Ally wrinkled her brow. “Maya Angelou, right?”

  Jake nodded. “Very good.”

  “Well, I don’t mean to be a New York snob,” Ally said, “but I don’t know how you could give all that up for this. No offense.”

  “Guess it depends on what you value,” Jake said. “Truthfully, I couldn’t wait to get out of that city.”

  Ally shot him a look. Did he just diss me? she thought. “People in New York have values, too,” she said. “Small-town folks don’t have a corner on them.”

  Jake smiled. “Didn’t mean to pass judgment. Just not my cup of tea.”

  Not your cup of tea? Ally thought. Who says that anymore? And we’re talking New York City here.

  “Well, I think New York’s a pretty damn fine cup of tea,” Ally said. “But to each his own, I guess. As long as we’re dealing in clichés.” Jake smiled. “And what about love?” she asked. “Why is a relatively charming guy like you not pushing around a baby carriage?” Jake stopped and laughed. “What?” Ally asked. “Too personal?”

  “A little,” Jake said.

  Ally winked at him. “Sorry. That’s the yogi in me.” Ally looked and realized they were standing outside Peggy’s gate. “Oh. We’re back.” Jake nodded. She held out her hand. “Thank you. I had fun.”

  “Me, too,” Jake said. He took her hand. Even though they were both wearing gloves, Ally found she enjoyed the feel of his touch. A warm rush flowed through her. Is he going to kiss me? she thought. But then, What are you thinking, Henderson? You barely know the guy. And you’re engaged…officially, anyway.