Driving Miss Darcy

by Gigi Blume

  The RV lumbered on, going extra slow. Whoever was driving was being extra careful. Reeses was in belly rub heaven, and the cheerful women seemed more than happy to dole out all the attention his little doggie heart desired. They certainly didn’t fit the penguin suit stereotype I was used to. Most of them were in their twenties and thirties—young and fresh-faced. And all of them were full of laughter.

  So, partly because I felt some instant connection with these ladies, and partly because of my burning curiosity, I said, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t look like nuns.”

  Sister Edna raised a brow. “Because we don’t have the traditional habit?”

  Georgia face-palmed. “Wyatt!”

  “It’s okay,” said Sister Patty. “We get asked this all the time.”

  “What’s a habit?” I asked. “The black and white veil thing?

  “You’ve probably seen pictures of Mother Teresa,” said Sister Patty. “Her order wears blue stripes. Some orders wear black and white. Some wear brown. We wear something a little more simple.”

  “A habit is more of a promise to God than an article of clothing,” explained Sister Edna. “Our order was founded during the time of the Nazis. The Sisters then couldn’t wear a traditional habit because of persecution and threat of arrest. And so we wear a habit of fidelity, of joy, of love. A habit of caring for each other and for the community.”

  That explained the inner glow these women had.

  Georgia smiled. “I like that.”

  “Me too,” said Sister Patty. “That’s what called me to serve.”

  “We’re here!” the driver called out. She had light brown hair and extremely rosy cheeks. She skid the RV to a stop and put it in park, waving at us through the rear view mirror.

  “That’s Sister Ruth,” said Patty. “Come on. Let’s get some hot apple cider.”

  The party was well under way inside the cafe. It was already packed before we walked in, but somehow everyone shifted around and we were a comfortable crowd.

  A stout woman served the hot apple cider from behind the bar. We later learned her name was Hannah, the original owner of the cafe. She still ran the place as before but now had the financial backing of Hope Church.

  The cider was crazy good.

  “Wow. What did they put in this stuff?” said Georgia. “Unicorn tears?”

  Pastor Kevin and Teresa arrived soon after. Their daughter, Joy, had changed out of her Mary costume and found a corner of the cafe to bury herself in her cell phone.

  Hannah set out trays of hot mini donuts on every table and counter. They were amazing morsels of fried dough and powdered sugar. I must have eaten a dozen.

  Upbeat Christmas hits played from the speaker system and those not engaged in lively conversation were dancing. At one point, Lois snagged me by the arm for a dance. I hadn’t even seen her walk in, then again the place was pretty packed. Georgia’s smiling face disappeared through the crowd of dancers as I was pulled away. She laughed and gave an encouraging clap.

  I couldn’t find her for ten or fifteen minutes, and when I did, she was under the threshold that led to the restrooms. She as smiling, but there was a hint of worry on her features.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?”

  She leaned against the frame and sighed. “Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve. And we have no way of getting to California.”

  “I know.” In an effort to comfort her, I caressed her arms. “But we’ll get there somehow.”

  She shifted under the weight of my hands and focused on me. “There’s something I didn’t tell you. I don’t just need to get home in time for Christmas. My brother’s getting married and he’s trying to keep it low key. I really need to be there.”

  I parted my lips, wanting to say something in response. But I was afraid my features would betray me. I already knew about the wedding. If I were to act surprised, she’d see right through me. Instead, I drew her into my arms and nuzzled my nose in her hair, inhaling her shampoo. It still held a trace of that strawberry scent but it was now mixed with a hint pine and ash.

  “I’ll do everything in my power to get you home on time,” I whispered into her soft locks. “I promise.”

  She broke away from the hug just enough to see my eyes. Her warm, lovely face was only an inch away and the cinnamon in her sweet breath brushed against my senses. My heart hammered in my chest as she curled up the corners of her lips in a honey-laden smile. Her eyes danced. They met my gaze in wonder and then flickered up to a sprig of mistletoe dangling above our heads.

  I may have read somewhere that it was bad luck not to kiss if you find yourselves under mistletoe. Or maybe I made that up. Either way, I wasn’t about to tempt the Christmas fairies.

  I lowered my lips, just a millimeter, as if asking permission. She quivered under my touch. Her breath snagged in response—in anticipation. And as I closed the gap, a wish hung between us as though, through the magic of a mistletoe kiss, every worry would melt away and our Christmas dreams would come true.

  A loud pop ricocheted through the cafe followed by gasps and complete darkness. Georgia jolted back. The music cut off and was replaced by murmurs and various voices rumbling, “What happened?”

  “The power went out.”

  A strong, male voice said, “Everybody remain calm. I’ll check the breaker.”

  Cell phones fired up in a blue hue and in a matter of minutes, candles illuminated the cafe in a soft, warm glow.

  I glanced back to see Georgia biting her bottom lip, her features cast in darkness but still betraying a hint of disappointment. I shouldn’t have hesitated. And now the moment was gone.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - GEORGIA

  A few people freaked out when the power went out. I was too dazed by Wyatt’s lips almost touching mine to notice much of anything for several minutes.

  I had to get it together. I didn’t do hookups with guys I barely knew. But why did Wyatt feel so familiar? Two days ago he didn’t exist. Now he was just there, taking residence in my life like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And I liked it.

  Pastor Kevin announced in his booming voice, “There’s a downed power line just outside the cafe. Also the storm is coming in pretty strong right now. I recommend everyone stay put for now.”

  This was followed by some groans and some talking all at once. Kevin held up his hands to quiet the racket.

  “I called Eric at the fire station. He’s sending some guys, don’t worry. In the mean time, Hanna and Teresa are putting out sandwiches. On the house.”

  Everyone went back to mumbling amongst themselves, making the most of the situation. It was still a party—just a mellow one. And maybe a tad drab. So I sprang into action.

  I’d noticed an upright piano when we first walked in. As a musician, my eyes can’t help but latch on to instruments, even through a crowd of people. What this party needed was music. Luckily, I knew a tune or two.

  Wyatt followed me over.

  “Where are you going?”

  I grinned, scrunching my nose at him. “Just over here to liven things up a bit.”

  My fingers flew over the keys playing Große Sonate für das Hammerklavier as effortlessly as some people excel at typing or making pie crust. Wyatt gaped at me incredulously.

  “What is that?”

  I kept playing. “Beethoven.”

  He laughed, shaking his head.

  I narrowed my eyes. “What?”

  “I may be Charlie Brown, but you’re Schroeder.”

  I hitched one shoulder up and played on. The party guests turned and stared like they weren’t sure what to make of me. I spotted Reeses on top of a high-top table, ears at attention.

  “Reeses likes it,” I said. “He’s got good taste in music.”

  Wyatt’s face was all wonder. “How is it I’m just finding out you pay piano?”

  “I guess I’m full of all sorts of surprises,” I replied.

  “Know any Christmas tunes?”

  Do I know any
Christmas tunes?!

  “Is Santa fat and jolly?” I wagged my brows. “Here’s one for you, Charlie Brown.”

  I transitioned smoothly into Linus and Lucy, otherwise known as the Peanuts Theme Song. Wyatt scooped up Reeses and began dancing, bobbing up and down like the cartoon. People started to join in. It was crazy fun. I played one Christmas song after another. At one point, someone put an empty mason jar on the piano lid and stuffed a five dollar bill inside. I started taking requests.

  Silver Bells, Deck the Hall, Let it Snow. More cash tips filled the jar. Most of the songs were carols everyone joined in on but a few people requested stuff like Santa Baby or Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas which turned out to be more like Karaoke.

  “I have a request,” said Wyatt. “Sing a duet with me?”

  I waved him off. “I can’t sing.”

  “Neither can I. We’ll be terrible together. Come on. For Reeses?” He squeezed Reeses to his cheek to play the cute card.

  “Oh, okay. But I warned you. I’m not a great singer.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.”

  The song he wanted was Baby It’s Cold Outside, so I started in, cringing as my voice left my mouth. Wyatt’s face brightened as if I had the most beautiful voice in the world. I was convinced he must have been deaf.

  He joined in, playing up the comedy. He was making up his own words, giving everyone a good laugh. More money piled in our jar. He kicked it up a notch, inspired by the tips. We were on a roll, singing our little hearts out. He had a pretty good voice. I mean, he was no Pavarotti but I certainly didn’t hold a candle to the many fantastic vocalists at my school. But Wyatt was wonderful in his own Wyatt way. His eyes glistened as he leaned toward me, singing about how my lips looked delicious.

  Gah.

  I thanked my lucky stars he couldn’t see the bright red tinge on my cheeks in the candlelight. What would people think if he stole a kiss right then and there? How would I react? Would I kiss him back?

  He really did have a dazzling smile. It wasn’t just because of his perfectly straight, gleaming white teeth, or how those kissable lips formed into a scrumptious crescent. Or even how his eyes flashed in such a way, they sent bolts of lightening to my belly button.

  I discovered as I sat there playing piano, singing a duet with Wyatt, that his smile was stunning because it sprouted from deep within—from a place so pure and so real, it was almost blinding.

  A flutter built inside of me, filling me to the brim. My heart thundered in my chest. So. Darn. Loud. So overwhelming. My fingers faltered, fumbling over the keys. Wyatt’s smile only grew wider.

  I braced myself for another wave—the falling sensation that’s equal measures frightening and thrilling. Like a roller coaster—the kind that drops you down so your stomach leaps into your throat.

  Was this what it was like to fall in love? This beautiful ache burning me to embers. The awareness in my entire body responding to Wyatt’s presence like static cling on socks.

  No.

  People didn’t fall in love overnight. That only happened in movies.

  In a flash, the power blasted back on—the lights, the music, the donut machine all coming to life at once. Everyone cheered and applauded when the crew responsible for restoring the power ambled inside. Hannah ushered them to the bar to offer them food. Our heroes. We were saved.

  A moment later, I felt Teresa’s hand on my shoulder.

  “A little elf told me you two need a place to stay tonight,” she said.

  Hmmm. I wondered who that might be.

  Kevin came over and greeted us with a handshake. The only one in town not into hugs, it seemed.

  “We want you to stay at our house tonight,” he said in his low baritone. “And we won’t take no for an answer.”

  I’D NEVER BEEN MORE grateful for a hot shower in my life. Teresa lent me some pajamas that dragged on the floor when I walked so I ended up tying little knots at the hem of the pants. I slept on Joy’s trundle bed. She was under the impression we were having a slumber party and was all about the girl-talk late into the night. She asked so many questions. Was Wyatt my boyfriend? Was he a good kisser? What was my longest Snapchat streak?

  We kinda bonded.

  In the morning I found my clothes washed and folded. Was there no end to these people’s kindness? Wyatt greeted me in the kitchen bright-faced and clean-shaven. Apparently the sofa he slept on was even better than the backseat of that Mustang.

  He’d already taken Reeses out to do his business and the little dog was nibbling on some chicken on a paper plate.

  Wyatt gazed at me. “Last night was something else, wasn’t it?”

  “Which part?”

  “All of it. I feel...happy. You know what I mean?”

  “Yeah. I think so.” I eyed the spread on the kitchen island. Pastries, fruit, coffee, and a note for us to help ourselves.

  Wyatt poured a cup of coffee and handed it to me. “Where did you learn to play piano like that? Is music your major?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s awesome.” He poured another cup and leaned next to me on the counter. “What school do you go to? NYU?”

  “Juilliard.” I bit into a cheese danish.

  “Of course you do.”

  I winked at him as I chewed my danish. This all felt so natural, like we were playing house.

  Silly.

  “So, we should probably figure out a way to get to L.A. in the next twenty-four hours,” he said, running his fingers though his locks. Seriously, he could do that all day and I’d never tire of watching him. “Any ideas?”

  “Hang on.” I padded to the coat rack and unzipped the inside pocket, bringing a pile of cash back into the kitchen. “Our tips.”

  His eyes widened. “You mean your tips. How much did you make?”

  I straightened out the bills, stacking them on the counter. “I dunno. Help me count.”

  We each took a stack and counted silently. There were mostly ones, but also quite a few fives and a couple twenties.

  “Wow. I counted fifty-seven,” said Wyatt. “What about you?”

  “Eighty-four. That can’t be right.”

  Wyatt began counting on his fingers. Fifty-seven and eighty-four...that’s...how much?”

  “I don’t math this early,” I joked.

  “A hundred and forty-one,” a deep voice answered. Kevin sauntered into the kitchen dressed in jeans and a flannel. He poured a cup of coffee and joined us at the island. “Good morning. Sleep well?”

  We both replied that we did and thanked him profusely, especially for taking the time to wash our clothes.

  He waved off our gushing.“It’s all my bride’s doing. She’s the greatest lady I know.”

  “I don’t suppose we could find a really fast train that can get us to California for a hundred and forty-one bucks?” I said, squinting at Wyatt.

  The ding of the doorbell echoed through the house and footsteps pounded down the stairs.

  “I got it.” Teresa ran to the front door. She was a blur as she wizzed by the kitchen archway.

  Kevin polished off his coffee in one swig and rinsed his cup in the sink. “Let’s all go see who that is.”

  He walked out, expecting us to follow him. I couldn’t possibly imagine who might be at their door who’d care to meet Wyatt and me, but figured this was their cute small town custom.

  Let’s all say hello to the Fed-Ex guy. Hugs for everyone.

  But unless the Fed-Ex uniform was a beige skirt and white blouse, the visitors at the door were definitely not delivering a package. Or so I thought.

  Sisters Edna, Patty, and Ruth floated in, all smiles and cheerful greetings and hugged us all. It was so nice to see them again.

  “Where’s your lovely daughter?” asked Edna.

  Teresa took their coats. “Sleeping. You know how teenagers are.”

  I certainly did after last night. No wonder the chatty little thing was tired.

  Kevin invited them
into the living room. “Can I offer you some coffee or juice?”

  “Oh no, thank you.” Sister Edna sat on the sofa as we all found seats. “I’m just here to ask a favor of Georgia and Wyatt.”

  That was surprising.

  Wyatt almost jumped with enthusiasm. “Anything. Just name it.”

  “Good.” Sister Edna sat up straight. “Regarding the RV Sister Ruth here drove us in last night.”

  Sister Ruth threaded her fingers on her lap. “Tried to drive.”

  “You did a fine job,” said Sister Patty, covering her hand with encouragement.

  “Yes, well.” Sister Edna continued. “Our sisters in the Costa Mesa convent are in need of the vehicle. They have a lot more retreats and need the RV for trips up to the mountains. There’s a retreat center at Big Bear Lake.”

  I was familiar with Big Bear. My dad took us there when I was a little girl. “It’s beautiful up there,” I said.

  Edna agreed. “It certainly is. But we only need to take the RV as far as Costa Mesa. We had planned on taking the trip after the Epiphany, but it’s quite a long drive.”

  “So long,” Ruth agreed.

  “We weren’t really looking forward to it,” added Patty. “At all.”

  Sister Edna focused on Wyatt and me. “And now God has provided a solution.”

  Ruth dangled a set of keys. “You would be doing us a great favor.”

  “Wait. I don’t follow.” Wyatt shook his head.

  Kevin jumped in. “They have a camper that needs to get to California. You happen to be going that way but don’t have wheels.”

  “It’s perfect,” exclaimed Teresa.

  “But, you would trust us with your RV.” I said. “Just like that?”

  Edna shrugged. “Eh. It’s insured.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - GEORGIA

  The proud part of me wanted to refuse the motor home. I wasn’t accustomed to accepting charity. The nuns insisted it was they who were indebted to us for the favor, but we all knew it was a pure act of kindness on their part. After some resistance, I finally accepted the offer. It was...humbling. They even gave us gas money.