Page 5 of Bed of Roses

“Can you believe that we have already hadelevenpeople request this song, Bear? Without further ado, this is Mariah Carey and ‘All I Want for Christmas, is You’.”

* * *

I kept getting glimpses of her as the afternoon progressed. I’d catch her sharing a joke with someone, or ordering coffee at the outdoor stand, or chatting up a pair of obvious tourists who were laden down with the spoils of an afternoon shopping the square. Every time I stopped to take in the atmosphere around me though, she’d be there—somewhere.

“You seem to have taken a very keen interest in blondie over there.” Raven placed a cup of coffee in front of me, signaling with her head in the direction where Marley was presently bantering amicably with the reindeer guy from Santa’s Workshop.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Rave.”

“Really? That’s how this is gonna play out?”

The coffee was fucking hot. Like, really fucking hot. I should have found some other way to avoid talking with Raven that didn’t involve singeing my tongue and probably ruining the soft tissue in my throat for the rest of eternity.

“You know, being interested in someone is a good thing. This self-imposed exile has changed you. It’s been two years since Jen, Ted…”

Thankfully, a family walked up to our stage, thus ending Raven’s inquisition.

“Are you taking requests?” the apparent mother of the family asked us.

“Of course!” Raven slapped on her flight attendant smile, “What do you want to hear?”

“I just love that Mariah Carey one. You know the poppy one about not wanting anything for Christmas except her love. Can you play that one for me? It always makes me smile.”

Of course. I internally rolled my eyes.

“No, we just played it like an hour ago. Once an hour is more than enough for that affront to my ear drums. I will play literally any other song you can think of. Name it. How about that stupid hippopotamus song? Or the one about Grandma meeting her maker from the reindeer? Or the woman who fights off her grabby boyfriend? Any of them, all of them—anything but Mariah. I beg of you.”

“You know Bear, this is why this town loves you so much. You’ve got that bad boy thing down to a tee. You’re like our very own Howard Stern, but younger…and tattooed. It’s why we all look forward to Bear and Raven every morning.”

The mother of the family directed her attention to me.

I was about to educate our admirer the difference between a mouthy “shock jock” like Howard Stern and my own brand of charm, but Raven signaled me with an elbow to the side. Which we all know is universally known as shut the fuck up.

“He’s always got that persona turned up to full wattage. He’s kidding, of course! We’ll be sure to get your song playing in just a few minutes.”

“You two are the best! You really do make our mornings morebearable!”

The two of us watched her gather her children’s gloved hands in hers and toddle away in the direction of the shops.

“Seriously Bear, what is it with you and that song? I get it, it’s an obnoxious song. It’s more than overplayed, but you act like people are engaging in a personal affront every time it comes on the air. Jesus, get laid already. You’re turning into the world’s biggest douche.”

She didn’t give me any time to argue. The set of songs that played between our banter was about to end, and it was just about time to open up Carol the Square officially. Dusk had settled in the square and off to our right Ye Merry Carolers were beginning their scales and trills, warming their voices up for this year’s debut.

“Twas the eve of the first day of Carol the Square, good people had gathered from here and from there.”

Yep, our station’s employees were addicted to rhyming cheese.

“We signaled the carolers, let the merriment begin, but first your Master of Ceremonies welcomes you with a grin.” Raven followed. The meter was embarrassingly off, but hey they didn’t pay me to come up with this shit, they just paid me to read it and pretend to like it.

“This year, there are two of us, you see, to shepherd in the revelry. On lantern bearers and mead makers, bakers and singers. Gather round, stomp your feet, make way for the bell ringers.” This couldn’t end fast enough for my liking.

“Tis the moment to declare, now open is North Pole’s Carol the Square!”

The directive on our cue cards had said we were to say that last part in unison. They can kiss my ass. We aren’t carnival barkers. I gave Raven the final line all to herself. The choir broke into Carol of the Bells, and the town all filed in behind the carolers to follow them around the block as all the shops had dimmed their lights in preparation for the Carolers to walk the block and light the torches at each storefront. It was pretty, I’ll give them that.

Once the caroling and lantern lighting had concluded, the town returned to the staging area so we could tie up our opening ceremonies and pass it off to the choir. Then, I could go find Ye Olde Mead Shop and get drunk.

“Wasn’t that just beautiful Bear?” Raven turned to me and smiled a genuine smile coupled with a light in her eyes and a pinkening in her cheeks. What was it about Christmas that chicks dug so much? I mean, for any like regular woman, okay I guess I get it. But Raven wasn’t an average woman. She was chains and flannels, ink and mayhem.

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