Christmas Encounter

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Christmas Encounter Page 4

by R. J. Prescott


  Around us, couples, friends, and families all watched with excitement for that magical moment that signaled the start of the countdown to Christmas. It was easy to get caught up in it all. For one night, it felt like we were any other couple, enjoying the magic of Christmas with loved ones.

  “Five, four, three, two, one,” I heard the mob shout, and then the enchanting glow of what must have been thousands of lights illuminated the town square. Just at that moment, an icy cold snowflake landed on my nose, and I tilted my face upward so that I could watch them fall from the sky, embracing the magic of the moment. I hadn’t even realized that I was leaning into Jensen’s embrace. It just felt natural to be in his arms.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I said.

  It sure is,” he replied in a tone that had me looking up at him. I expected him to be as captivated by the snow as I was, but he wasn’t looking at the lights. His eyes were focused on me so intently that I shivered.

  “Fancy getting out of here? We can beat the crowd and head for dinner?” he said, leaning closer to whisper into my ear. His breath was warm against my face, and I nodded my head in agreement as I struggled to focus my lust-addled brain into forming actual sentences.

  The crowd was marveling at Santa, who had just arrived in a rather impressive sleigh, and it was heartwarming to hear the excitement of all the children jostling for the best view. Dumping my empty cup in a trash can, I followed behind Jensen as he negotiated a path through the crowd. When I fell behind, he reached back for my hand so that we wouldn’t be split up.

  Long after we’d made it through the throng, our hands remained that way, our fingers threaded tightly together, his thumb brushing against mine. I couldn’t remember ever holding hands with someone. That such a simple act could feel so special and intimate, that it could make me feel so connected to someone, was quite profound. I didn’t connect with people. Ever. When they looked at me, people saw what they wanted to see. In some cases, what I allowed them to see. But Jensen saw the real me, and still he wanted to hold my hand. And I wanted him to. So much that I didn’t want to let him go.

  We walked a fair way, and I followed blindly, not really concentrating on where we were going or even caring. I would have been happy with a sandwich as long as we ate together. That was until we walked through the doors of Grumpy’s Bar and Grill. I caught sight of Dad at the bar as usual, hunched protectively over his beer and talking animatedly with a guy I didn’t recognize. I was desperate to go unnoticed. If my dad saw me with Jensen, he’d immediately peg him as a mark, and it would only be a matter of time before he tried to exploit my connection with him to try and rope me into one of his scams. I wanted nothing more than to part ways with Dad, but until I could afford a place to live, that just wasn’t an option. So avoiding him seemed the best tactic for the moment.

  “Look, I’ve changed my mind about dinner. Can we just go please?” I said, pulling on Jensen’s arm.

  “Why? It’s not even that busy yet. If we grab a table quickly, we could eat and be done before the masses roll in,” he replied. I knew that arguing with him would only draw attention to us, so, with a heavy heart, I slipped my hand from his and made my way back out into the cold. Seconds later, I could hear his heavy footsteps behind me, but I didn’t slow down, ignoring his pleas for me to wait.

  Eventually, he ran in front of me and grabbed me by the shoulders, forcing me to stop.

  “Talk to me,” he said. It was his gentle tone that undid me. He had every right to just walk away. I had been unspeakably rude in the face of his kindness, and my mood had swung, from warm and congenial to frosty and ignorant.

  “My dad’s in there. The same one that taught me how to lift your wallet. He’s drinking away whatever money he’s managed to con or swindle out of his latest victim, and I don’t want him seeing you as his next one,” I admitted, looking down in shame. “And if I’m honest, I don’t want you looking at me differently, either, and believe me you will when you see what bad stock I come from.”

  “You know, my mum has a saying,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “The worst manure grows the brightest flowers. I think it was her way of telling me that, no matter how bad my dad was, it didn’t mean that I was bad too. I think the same applies for you.”

  “Your mom sounds like a smart woman,” I said.

  “She is, and I’m pleased to tell you that all the smart genes are genetic,” he said with a wink that made me laugh. I felt so silly for almost crying, but I couldn’t help feeling angrier at Dad that, in addition to his long list of misdemeanors, he also managed to unwittingly ruin my date.

  “Listen, I don’t know about you, but I’m absolutely starving. Why don’t you wait in the truck and get the heater going, and I’ll go back and see if I can order something as takeout?” he suggested.

  “That sounds great,” I replied on a sigh, relieved that he was being so great about this. After settling me safely in the truck like the gentleman he was, he went back inside and emerged fifteen minutes later with a couple of bags.

  “I don’t know what that is, but it smells amazing,” I said as he climbed in the cab to join me. The air was warm and permeated with the most mouth-watering scents.

  “Wait until you see what I ordered. This lot’s going to put us in a food coma for a week.” I smiled at his enthusiasm and settled back against my seat as he pulled away. I hummed along to the radio as he drove, not really saying much until he pulled up on top of a ridge that looked down over the whole town. The flutter of snowflakes was whimsical and romantic, and the tingling echo of a Christmas carol that drifted up from the town made this the perfect setting for a festive date. Our feast was mainly bar food, but on my empty stomach, the banquet of ribs, fries, and burgers, together with the leftovers from the coffee shop, tasted like gourmet cuisine. We parked, and with the radio playing softly in the background, and smiles on our faces, we ate like kings.

  Chapter Nine

  Lauren

  I never thought I’d be the sort of girl to waste time mooning over some guy, replaying every word of a shared conversation in my head, yet that’s exactly what I found myself doing the next morning. The early breakfast rush had passed, and while I enjoyed a brief lull before the mid-morning Christmas shoppers would stop by, I cleaned down the empty tables and daydreamed of Jensen and our magical evening together.

  “Lauren, isn’t it?” I turned toward an older lady, who’d taken a seat at the table behind me.

  “I didn’t see you there. Yes, I’m Lauren. What can I get for you? I can recommend the hot chocolate, and we have a special offer on our fresh pastries this morning,” I said.

  “Do you think you could sit down with me for a moment?” she asked. Her request was odd, considering we’d never met before. Combined with the fact that she knew my name, I was immediately suspicious. Feeling uncomfortable, I looked toward the counter for Jill, but she must have slipped into the kitchen.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m working right now. I’d be happy to get you anything you’d like, but I need to be available to wait on other customers,” I replied.

  “It’s all right, Jill and I are old friends, and I’ve already asked her permission. I really won’t take up more than a few minutes of your time,” she said.

  Taking her at her word, I sat down opposite her hesitantly.

  “We’ve never met before, but my name is Nancy Adler,” she explained.

  I smiled when I realized who she was to Jensen and how she must know me.

  “I’m sorry, I had no idea who you were,” I replied. “Jensen has told me all about you and Ronnie. I’m so sorry for your recent loss, but Jensen speaks very highly of you both. He loved your husband very much.”

  “You and Jensen must be getting very close if he’s talked to you about my husband. You know, Ronnie always thought of Jensen like a son. He was very protective of him, and to a degree, I feel as though that responsibility has fallen to me with his passing. My decision to come and sp
eak with you hasn’t been the easiest, but I think Ronnie would have wanted me to say something,” she said.

  “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, Mrs. Adler, but why are you here?” I asked, cutting to the chase. My initial happiness had ebbed away with her words. The tone of her voice was gentle enough, but it was clear that her reason for being here wasn’t good.

  Rather than looking put out at my harsh abruptness, she looked almost sad as she considered my words. “Jill tells me that you’re a nice girl and a hard worker, and she’s not the sort to give praise where it isn’t due. I want you to know that I’m not here because I think you’re a bad person. Despite my misgivings about your father, I trust Jill, and she’s had nothing but praise for you,” she said.

  “But despite that, you don’t want me with Jensen,” I said, delivering the truth she was having trouble saying.

  “I want what’s best for him. I want him to have the freedom to pursue his dreams. To achieve everything that he’s worked so hard for. Everything that Ronnie helped him work toward. With Ronnie gone, we’re all in a vulnerable place right now. All I’m asking is that you don’t take advantage of that vulnerability,” she explained.

  “So, you’re asking me not to see him anymore?” I asked.

  “No, I’m not asking that. It’s clear that you’ve become friends, and he needs a friend at the moment. All I’m asking is that, when the time comes for him to leave, you let him go. From what I hear, your father is the kind of person who might take advantage of the sort of opportunity that your association with Jensen would present. Don’t let that happen. If you care about him at all, protect him from your father by letting him go. Let him achieve those big dreams of his,” she replied.

  I wanted to yell and scream at the unfairness of her words, but she wasn’t wrong. No matter how I felt, I knew that I was a bad investment for a man like Jensen, and there was no doubt that he was better off without me. Still, the truth hurt.

  “You don’t need to worry about me, Mrs. Adler. I’ve never held out any hope of a future with a man like Jensen. When the time comes for him to go, I’ll wish him well with all of my heart. Until then, I plan on making the most of the time we have together. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work,” I said, and with as much dignity as I could muster, I stood and walked away from her, willing my tears not to fall.

  Chapter Ten

  Jensen

  Dropping Lauren home after the tree lighting last night had been hell. Despite Nancy’s warning, I couldn’t help but miss her. She didn’t have a mobile phone, which meant that keeping in touch on social media or even calling was out the window. I had talked her into letting me take a quick picture of us on my phone, though, and it was the only tangible proof I had of her existence. It was a magical moment, with the snow falling gently behind us, but what struck me was how happy we both looked. In all of the podium pictures of me accepting trophies or spraying vintage champagne, never had I come close to looking as happy as I did with Lauren. Maybe that was why I couldn’t keep from staring at it. For two days, I’d left her alone with the promise that I’d pick her up again Saturday for the date she insisted on paying for. I had no intention of letting her pay for a thing, of course, but I was happy to let her believe it if it got me another date. But after gazing at her beautiful face for the last ten minutes, I knew I couldn’t wait that long. Twenty minutes later, I’d showered, shaved, and was sitting in the coffee shop looking eagerly for my girl.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked as she came through the kitchen and caught my eye.

  “Is it okay that I’m here?” I asked, starting to second guess whether bothering her at work had been such a great idea.

  “Are you kidding? It’s made my day. If you don’t mind hanging around for an hour, I finish at five,” she said. There was no mistaking the sadness in her eyes, but still she seemed genuinely happy to see me.

  “I’d wait for you all day,” I replied, then winced when I realized how cheesy that sounded. Lauren didn’t seem to mind though. There wasn’t so much as an eye roll at my lameness.

  “Well, what can I get you while you wait? My treat,” she said.

  “No way are you paying, but I’d like a large hot chocolate please and a slice of whatever cake you fancy,” I replied.

  “A grown man drinking hot chocolate has to be about the most adorable thing ever,” she cooed.

  “Leave me alone, woman. It’s very rugged and manly.”

  “Let’s see if you’re still saying that when it arrives,” she said, winking at me as she went about filling my order. I gawked as she walked away, unable to stop myself from noticing how hot she looked in that damn uniform. There wasn’t anything particularly sexy about a plain black skirt and black shirt, but she could wear a burlap sack and still have grown men drooling.

  On that thought, I looked around the place and realized I wasn’t the only man taking an interest. At this time of year, I expected the place to be filled with Christmas shoppers and families, but there seemed to be an unusually high number of men at the coffee shop, and as I watched her work, I knew that she was the reason why. They couldn’t keep their eyes off her, and as much as I wanted to act all caveman and possessive, I knew I didn’t have the right. I wasn’t her boyfriend, and in a little over a week, I’d be gone. Still, I sure wanted the job though. I wanted to be the one on the receiving end of her smile every night when she finished her shift.

  “What did I tell you?” she said, rocking me out of my revelry. Her face was a picture of mischievous mirth as she placed a drink in front of me that wouldn’t look out of place in a Disney movie. The blown glass cup was both fancy and delicate, and aside from the fact that I’d struggle to get even my index finger around the handle, the amount of marshmallows, whipped cream, and chocolate wedged into the top of it made it look more like an ice cream than a hot beverage. I wasn’t sure whether to lick it or drink it.

  “How am I supposed to drink this?” I asked, wondering if I should pick out the top layer of bonus edible treats and hold the thing like a soup bowl.

  “I have no idea, but I can’t wait to see you try,” she replied.

  Tentatively, I lifted the drink to my lips, ignoring the fact that she was clearly trying to suppress her laughter. It was the worst thing to have ordered in front of the girl I wanted to impress, given that there was likely as much cream on my face after one sip as there was left in the cup.

  “I promise you, Jensen, your masculinity is safe. If anyone could make drinking that look hot, it’s you.”

  I cleaned my lip with a napkin and was slightly mollified as she placed the biggest slab of chocolate fudge cake I’d ever seen down in front of me and next to it a jug of what smelled like warm fudge sauce.

  “Will you marry me?” I asked after my first bite.

  “Sorry. I’ve already promised myself to whoever makes these cakes,” she replied as she walked away to wait on other tables.

  As I watched Lauren work, I began to understand exactly what it was my life had been missing. But the knowledge didn’t make me feel any better. I looked forward to every minute we spent together and dreaded leaving, but the reality was that I was needed back in Europe sooner rather than later. My time in Friendship was running out.

  It wasn’t as though I could take any of that time for granted either. Between the hours that she was working and our lack of options for communicating, every stolen moment we had together was infinitely precious. I considered asking Lauren to keep seeing me after I left, but I spent nine months a year traveling around the world and three months training.

  Even if I left Friendship with the promise of returning, in the end she’d hate me for keeping her waiting. Letting her go would be the most selfless thing I could do. Until then, I’d allow myself this tiny window to savor every moment I could. Setting her free would be my gift to her. Stealing these memories would be my gift to me.

  “Ready to go?” she asked, slinging a messenger bag over her sh
oulder as she walked toward me.

  “Sure, where shall we go?” I asked, watching as she chewed on her bottom lip. We might only have known each other a matter of days, but I knew the gesture well. It meant that she was racking her brain for something to do that didn’t involve money.

  “How about a walk?” she suggested.

  “It’s too cold to walk,” I replied, wincing at the idea. In the UK, it rained far more than it snowed, so I was still adjusting to the climate.

  “I know!” I said, recalling something that had caught my eye on the way over. “I passed on old-fashioned cinema on Main Street, and they’re showing It’s a Wonderful Life. Why don’t we go? You can’t get more Christmassy than that.” I silently applauded my own brilliance. Two hours in a darkened room, inches away from the girl who took my breath away, and maybe even the chance to put my arm around her. I was a genius.

  She bit her lip harder, and I knew she wanted to go.

  “Come on,” I cajoled. “My treat.”

  “You can’t keep paying for everything. It’s not fair,” she protested.

  “Look, a couple of cinema tickets aren’t going to break the bank, and this is an unscheduled date, so it’s only right I pay. In fact, you’d actually be saving me money. If I had to try and entertain myself on my own, I’d probably end up going to some fancy restaurant and spending a fortune on a meal for one.”

  “Well, when you put it like that. Let’s go.”

  She linked her arm through mine, and as we headed for the door, I felt like I’d won the lottery.

  Chapter Eleven

 

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