Christmas At The Café. Rebecca Raisin
tell me who that is at the back door?”
Their heads swivel to door as the Easter bunny walks in holding a basket filled with eggs. They immediately jump up and race towards him screaming, “The Easter bunny!”
Damon in his pink fluffy bunny suit is well disguised, but I can almost feel him laughing under the bobbly head as they launch themselves at his knees. Charlie is at the back of the crowd, her face lit with wonder.
Parents shade their faces as they peer through the glass. They’ve been relegated outside and seem happy to watch from the street.
Damon tries to hand out eggs but can’t pick them up with his huge paws. He muffles, “A little help here?”
We giggle and edge the kids back so we can get through and help him.
“Have you been a good girl?” he asks me.
“Isn’t it Santa who asks that?”
“You’re on the naughty list. I’ll deal with you later,” he says, stepping forward and shaking hands with the kids as they stand stunned. I try and wipe the goofy, lovey-dovey look off my face, but find it impossible. CeeCee’s right: I had to kiss a toad before my knight in a bright pink bunny suit found my heart. I watch Charlie pick the foil off her egg slowly and delicately before popping it into her mouth, beaming.
***
“It just ain’t the same without Janey and Walt here,” CeeCee says sadly. We’re up before the sun, hiding the eggs for the Easter egg hunt in shrubs along the streets of Ashford. Sarah and Damon are helping; they’re further ahead, chatting as they walk on opposite sides of the street.
“I know,” I say softly. “Feels hollow without them.”
CeeCee goes to speak but chokes up. She takes a minute then says, “You know, Lil, the only thing that matters in life is having good friends and family around you. When you get to the twilight of your life, like me, you realize that. Money, fancy clothes, none of that matters. When you’re sitting alone in the dark of night, the things that make your heart happy are simple. Charlie’s smile when she bit into that cake pop. You and me laughing ourselves silly every day. My grandbabies, my kids, who all done me proud. And Janey. Our friendship’s spanned decades. There ain’t a thing we don’t know ’bout each other, and that counts for more than anythin’. I know she gonna pull through, I know it. But if she don’t, it means that God got other plans for her, and, as sad as that be, I trust Him. And I’ll be ever grateful for havin’ a friend like Janey. Life doesn’t always have a happy ending, and that makes it even more important to love and cherish what you got. So you just remember that, Lil, OK?” She wipes tears from her eyes, and nods at me before turning away and walking up the quiet street. Times like this I know she wants to be alone. Her words replay in my mind. I can’t help but wonder what else she means.
My heart’s heavy as I walk the other way, placing eggs into the underbrush of plants that line the street. Things don’t often change in Ashford, but it suddenly seems as though they will. The people I look up to and respect are all advancing in years, and I just can’t picture my life without them. I try and shake the blues away. Everything is always sadder before the sun comes up. Picturing Janey and Walt about to face their biggest struggle puts the Joel fiasco into perspective. As CeeCee says, it’s only money. Once I pay him, I’ll never have to see him again, and that’s worth more than anything. My friends need me now, and I need to be strong for them, not lost inside my mind with Joel, and his toxic threats.
***
Since Walt isn’t here, Damon takes over as the egg-hunt organizer. He lines the kids up along a makeshift start line, painted hurriedly at daybreak, when we realized we’d forgotten.
“OK, does everyone have a basket?” he hollers above the excited chatter.
Their “yes sirs’” ring out high into the fresh morning air.
“Great! Now we have a few little ones here today. It’d be nice if the bigger kids buddy up and make sure they find just as many eggs as you.”
The line wobbles as the tweens move places to stand next to the younger kids to shadow them.
“On your marks, get set, GO!”
We watch them race every which way, their yelps punctuating the morning.
CeeCee and I head on into the café, and get to making gingerbread coffee for the parents, who stumble in groggy from such an early start.
***
The kids have all moseyed on home as I close up shop for the day. CeeCee tallied up the takings, including the festival, and it looks as though we’ve made more than we anticipated. All our hard work was worth it in the end.
I’m just about to lock the front door when Damon pushes against it. Charlie stands behind him, gripping the edge of his shirt.
“Hi,” I say, confused. We’d planned to close up and meet at home so Charlie could have a nap after running around town most of the day. I’d planned on guzzling a big glass of wine.
“I forgot to give you something,” he says, stepping into the café. He hands me a small silver-wrapped egg.
“Hey!” I say. “We didn’t have silver eggs. Where did you get this one?”
“We made it. Go on, see if you like it.”
I take my time unwrapping the egg, which is not like me at all but I figure if Charlie, a seven-year-old, can be delicate, I can certainly try.
Once the foil is off I see a smattering of letters embossed into the chocolate. “What does it say?” I peer closer.
They stand silently.
And then I see it. I feel my cheeks color, and I do the silly jump-clap dance again.
The teeny, tiny words spell: Will you marry me?
“Yes!” I scream and collapse into Damon’s arms. Charlie looks up, her smile dazzling as I pull her into the hug.
Damon’s face shines as he says, “Open the egg.”
I go to smash the egg in my palm as I normally do, when he grabs my hand to stop me. “Maybe just bite the top off first.”
Why can’t I be ladylike, just once? I take a small bite and the shell crumbles. Amidst the chocolate rubble lies an antique-looking diamond ring. It’s so feminine, and delicate I immediately love it. He reaches for the ring, and slides it on my finger. I hold my breath, hoping it’s not too small; he inches it over my knuckle — a perfect fit. In fact, it looks as if it’s always been there. I can’t help grinning at my finger, which I’m sure looks downright silly.
“I knew the very moment I met you, I was going to marry you,” Damon says softly.
I bite my lip as I think of all the things that spun through my mind when I first clapped eyes on Damon, and, if I’m honest, I thought he was as delectable as one of CeeCee’s pies, but wouldn’t have thought of telling a soul. “Is this why you’ve been leaving the house before daybreak?”
“Surely was. I had to enlist CeeCee’s help to make the egg, and then there was the matter of getting her approval on the right ring…”
Charlie toddles off to help herself to a snack. With one last look at the ring, I put my hands in Damon’s back jean pockets and pull him close. “I thought it was my bed hair that had you running scared in the mornings.”
“There’s not one thing I don’t love about you, Lil. Not even the way you choke over the coffee I make you in the mornings…”
“Oh, you noticed that?”
He throws his head back and laughs. “It’s like you’re forcing yourself to down a cup of poison.”
I feel myself color and I laugh. “OK, so I can go back to instant coffee now.” Damon’s coffee machine is like his other child; I didn’t have the