Page 32 of One Golden Ring
Darcy shows every little thing on her sweet, expressive face. I don’t think she’s ever lied to me. I’m not sure if she could.
I’m honestly kind of surprised she’s been able to pull this off so far in front of my grandfather.
“Welcome, welcome,” a waitress with a tag that saysEllensays to us with a big smile. “Did you have a chance to look at the menu? What can I bring you?”
I haven’t looked at a thing besides Darcy and the view outside, but I don’t really need to.
“Do you have protein shakes, or green juice?” I ask.
“Well, sir, we just so happen to have—” Ellen begins.
“—No,”Darcy breaks in. “Absolutely not. You’re not doing that.”
I stare at her in complete surprise. Darcy is the most polite and pleasant assistant I’ve ever had.
“Derek, they haveChristmasshakes,” she leans in to tell me. “You can only get stuff like this for a few weeks each year, and it’s always the best. A man can’t live on protein alone.”
“Okay then. Order for us,” I tell her, leaning back. I’ll humor her and take a sip of some artificially colored bucket of sugar if it makes her happy.
“I’ll have a gingerbread shake,” she says to Ellen, with a triumphant gleam in her eye like she just won the New York City marathon. “And he’ll have peppermint.”
She does know me. I’m a fan of anything mint.
Ellen hurries off to do Darcy’s bidding and Darcy smiles at me across the table.
“Thanks,” she says. “Sorry if I’m being needy. My sister and I always get the holiday special if we go out at this time of year.”
“Always?” I tease.
“Always,” she tells me with a big smile. “Even if it sounds awful.”
“Like what?” I ask her.
“Like eggnog egg salad or a fruitcake smoothie—shealmost choked on that one,” Darcy giggles. “And, oh yeah,mince pies.”
“Mince pies?” I ask. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“They’re full ofmeat, Derek,” she says, as if that’s the worst thing she can imagine. “They’re called pies and they’re not evensweet.”
“It must have been a real sacrifice,” I allow.
“Oh, I didn’t eat those,” she says. “Mandy did. She’s the champion of Christmas menu specials.”
“She sounds like a fun person to spend time with,” I say.
“She is,” Darcy agrees, with a wistful smile.
“Wait, are you supposed to be seeing her for the holidays?” I ask, suddenly feeling guilty.
Darcy just shows up for me, uncomplaining, no matter what. It never hit me before to wonder what she was canceling to make that happen.
“No, no,” she assures me. “She’s way too busy this year. But I might get out there to see her next year.”
Ellen reappears with our order before I can ask what Darcy’s sister is busy with, or what I can do to help.
And any trace of sadness is gone from my pretend fiancée’s face the moment she spots her treat.
It’s an enormous glass of gingerbread-colored shake, topped with about three inches of whipped cream sprinkled with red and green sugar and a single cherry to finish it off. It’s the kind of thing you could get a cavity just by looking at. And just as I think it can’t get any more decadent, Ellen places a metal canister of extra shake next to it, because apparently the thing was too big to fit in the glass.
