Page 4 of Booked for the Holidays
His long, decorated arm stretches over the counter as he pays with the tap of his credit card. “Tip jar choices?”
“Stranger ThingsversusGame of Thrones.”
“It’s not even a fair competition.” The one-dollar bills I didn’t see him pull from his pocket fall into theStranger Thingsbucket. “You should play some Kate Bush over the speakers next week. Thanks for the coffee and food, Bridget. I’m sorry again for earlier.”
“It’s okay. I hope you get some good sleep tonight.”
Theo slides off the stool, taking his cappuccino and muffin with him. I’m awarded his signature parting nod as he treks toward the exit, shoulders beginning to curve in. The stoic facade is back in place, nicknames and apologies a thing of the past. His eyes remain on me as he retreats, focus unshakable. I answer his meager farewell with a dramatic salute of my own.
When he finally turns away and breaks our staring contest, just as he reaches the door, I notice his lips tugging up in the corner. A hint of a smile–small, butthere–briefly brightens his weary face.
It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
TWO
BRIDGET
“Hey.”Chandler pops up from behind the counter as I enter the store on Friday morning. I free Ziggy from his leash and he bounds over to her, ready for one of the dog bones she keeps hidden in her pocket.
“Hi,” I say through a yawn.
“Are you okay?”
“Just tired. I stayed up way too late last night.”
“Let me guess. A good book?”
“Guilty.” I grin. “He’s the captain of the hockey team. She’s a figure skater. The tension wasso good.I couldn’t put it down until they kissed for the first time.”
“Color me shocked. Well, your morning isn’t going to get much better. A shipment was dropped off an hour ago.”
“What? They told me it wouldn’t be in until tomorrow. It’s barely eight.”
“Yeah, and I’ve already been verbally accosted for accidentally giving someone whole milk instead of skim. Don’t even get me started on the pretentious asshat who spent ten minutes complaining about the chocolate chip-to-muffin ratio. Sometimes, I want to tell people to fuck off.”
“Chan, sweetie, you always want to tell people to fuck off.”
She waves away my interruption, on a roll and not stopping anytime soon. “Lawrence? Luke? Lyle? The guy from next door said the boxes were sitting outside the hardware store when he got in. Guess they had the wrong address. Theo brought them over when he saw I was struggling to wrangle them on the dolly.”
“He did?” I ask.
“It’s not like he was going to let them sit there and block their entrance. Remember when he moved our outside tables two inches to the left because they were, and I quote, ‘encroaching on his domain’? Isn’t it weird the guy carries a ruler in his pocket?”
“It’s also weird he knows the property line down to the millimeter. It was thoughtful of him to help you this morning.”
“I didn’t think thoughtful was in his repertoire.”
“He’s plenty thoughtful. He just has a unique way of showing it.”
“You’re hiding something,” Chandler says. She scrutinizes me, the defensiveness on Theo’s behalf a rare occurrence.
“Am not!” I answer, doing my best to convey neutrality.
It wouldn’t do me any good to make it obvious Iamhiding something. Maybe I don’t want people to know that when Theo’s lips pull upward, he favors the right side of his mouth, instead of the left. A lopsided smile, but beautiful nonetheless. Maybe I don’t want anyone to know his eyes crinkle slightly behind his glasses and a faint splash of pink paints his cheeks, the hue you would find during sunset on a clear summer night.
And maybe, most alarmingly, I’m afraid to admit, even to myself, I enjoyed seeing that ephemeral happiness. A fleeting display of wondrous delight, and the sneaking suspicion it’s not awarded to everyone.
I’m sure it’s pathetic to care about such a meager, insignificant gesture, or consider myself honored or flattered. But I do, and I am, so I’m going to marvel in the secret no one else is privy to.
