Page 125 of The One I Hate
“Oh, I will.” I don’t know why I find his tone weird, but it is. It’s like he’s pissed about it.
This man is just confusing the hell out of me today.
His phone vibrates on the counter, and I watch as he mumbles a few choice words before taking a huge bite of his waffles.
“Charlie? Can I get my bill? I have to go.”
“Oh, okay.” I don’t know why the sudden need for Emmett to leave takes me off guard. “Want me to box this up for you?”
“No, thanks. Maybe a to-go cup?”
“You got it.”
Sensing Emmett is in a hurry, I quickly pour his complimentary cup of coffee. He still insists on paying for his food, but he’s started to accept the free cup of Joe each time he comes in.
He barely says goodbye as he throws too much money on the counter and hurries out the door. I normally wouldn’t watch Emmett leave, but I can’t help but notice that he goes from a near sprint to a dead stop as soon as the door swings open.
In his defense, everyone stops and stares as Santa comes strutting through the door.
Wait, why is Santa here? I didn’t order a Santa.
“Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas!”
Oh, that makes much more sense.
The packed diner turns to watch as the Santa I’m stuck with for the rest of my life struts in. “I heard this is where all the good boys and girls eat. And Santa needs to fuel up before his big night!”
I don’t know whether to laugh, roll my eyes, or hide in the back as Santa—a.k.a. the father of my child—walks through the diner, saying hello to every customer.
And is he passing out presents?
“Order up!”
I turn away from Santa Simon, who is being tackled by the few kids that are in here this morning, as I go and deliver three plates to my three favorite customers.
“Is that Simon, dear?”
The question comes from Penny, the ringleader of the trio who comes in every Tuesday. Each week they sit at the same table, order the same three dishes, and split them between themselves so they can have a little of everything. Then they sit here for hours and play a weird dice game I’ve yet to figure out.
And I tried. I spent an entire day trying to learn.
So even though it’s Christmas Eve, it’s still Tuesday, and my Dice Gals are here and waiting for their breakfast.
“It is. But please don’t ask me where he got the Santa suit. I didnotsee that in the closet this morning.”
The three laugh as they start divvying up their breakfast.
“Doesn’t surprise me,” Penny says. “I’ve known him since he was a boy. I remember when his family first moved to Rolling Hills. Stole the show every chance he got.”
I look over to Simon, who is now letting the children sit on his lap as he asks them what they want for Christmas. I take a step back and put my hands on my stomach out of habit, as I watch Simon take such care and interest into what each child says. I don’t know what he’s saying now, but the little girl on his lap is giggling so hard she might fall off his lap.
He’s going to be the best father. I just know it. He’s made mention on numerous occasions that he never thought he had it in him. I now see that wasn’t even close to being true.
This man was made to be a father. A girl dad if I ever saw one.
I slowly make my way to the impromptu Santa station as a little boy hops off his lap.
“Oh, boys and girls! Santa has a very important visitor!”
