The Christmas Secret (9 page)

“How long has it been in here?”

Marshall shooed him away from his desk. “I don't remember when I bought it.”

“Why'd you buy a diamond for Nana? Nana of the ‘just make me something with your own hands or wash the dishes for me and that's all I want for Christmas'?”

Marshall laughed, pulling out the necklace again, looking
at it. “Haven't you ever seen anything that leaves you breathless and humbled at the same time?”

Jason looked at the necklace. Besides the diamond it was plain in every way. “You mean that?”

Marshall shook his head. “Your nana.” He lay the necklace back into the box and closed the lid. “What were you looking for anyway?”

“There's no paper anywhere in this office,” Jason said.

Marshall walked to the kitchenette area for a pot of coffee but no one had made it yet. “Judy was headed out for supplies when she ended up in the hospital.” He waved the empty coffeepot in the air. “See, I'm no good without her. She remembers all this stuff.” He pointed to the phone. “Call Derek at the Office House and ask him what Judy normally buys and then go pick it up.”

“Can I take that test again first?” Jason knew if he didn't take the test soon the names would leave him.

“Brew up a pot of coffee and I'll give it to you.”

The kitchenette area was around the corner from the copier and included a small sink, a coffeemaker, and a tin full of Marshall's favorite cookies from Betty's Bakery. Jason rinsed out the coffee carafe and put in a fresh filter, filling it with ten scoops of ground Columbian supreme. “Hutch, Phil, Kevin, and Larry. No.
Bill
, Hutch, Kevin, and Larry,” he said, flipping on the coffeemaker.

He sat at the desk and Marshall handed him the quiz. Jason's pencil flew over the first nine questions and stopped at number ten. The original question had been crossed out and Marshall's handwriting was above it: How is Judy doing today?

Jason sighed. He should have known Marshall would mess with the questions. He scribbled on the line next to the question:
Much better and improving
. Flipping to the next page the last question read, “What is the name of the woman in the toy department?” Jason shook his head and wrote
Mrs. Claus
.

“Round two completed,” Jason said, laying the test on Marshall's desk.

Marshall put his glasses on and scanned the answers. “Nice spin on Judy's condition.” Jason smiled. “How is she really?” Marshall asked, looking over his glasses.

Jason raised his eyebrows, resigned. “I don't know. I should but I don't.”

“She's being released sometime this morning. The doctor put two stents in her heart yesterday.”

“Oh,” Jason said. He knew his grandfather was trying to make him feel bad for not knowing that. “I thought you were going to ask me the maintenance supervisor's name.”

“Do you know his name?” Marshall asked, leaning back in his chair.

“Yes. And I know the two guys out in shipping and merchandise. Phil and Hutch.”

“Close,” Marshall said. He stood and walked down the steps from his office to the coffeemaker. “Now what's the woman's name in toys?”

Jason groaned and put his face in his hands. “I have no idea.”

“Well, you offended her. It's always a good rule of thumb to know the name of the person you're offending.”

Jason shook his head. His grandfather was getting on his nerves. “I don't understand the point here. I know you want me to know people's names but—”

“Wrong.” Marshall said, taking a bite of a chocolate chip cookie. “I don't want you to know their names. I want you to know
them
.”

Jason moved past Marshall and filled a cup with black coffee. “Okay. I'll take the test again and know
everyone's
name.”

Marshall pushed the last bite of cookie into his mouth and stepped toward his office. Jason hadn't understood a word he said; he knew that. “I need you to work on finding Christy today,” he said, closing his office door.

Jason growled, grabbing his coat. He figured he should find Christy as soon as possible so Marshall would leave him alone and he could get on with his life. He pulled up
the zipper and opened the door leading into the store. “
Bill
and Hutch!” he yelled toward Marshall's office. Marshall laughed as the door slammed shut.

 

Thankfully, Zach and Haley got on the school bus as I got in the car for my first day at work. Their final day of school was on the eighteenth and I was already stressed about finding a sitter for the two-week Christmas break. Although she had failed me more than once, I called and left a message for Allie to see if she could watch them anytime during the break. I left a message for Mira as well, thinking that maybe I could piecemeal together a group of sitters. I hung up the phone as I pulled into the parking lot behind Betty's.

The computerized ordering system was different from Patterson's and I felt dull and inadequate as I made one mistake after another, running to the kitchen to correct my botched orders. “It just takes a few times,” Karen said, showing me again how to void an order. She was a petite yet stout woman with short-cropped raven black hair and a small sparkly nose stud. On warmer days her husband drove her to work on the back of his Harley-Davidson. Cliff had a surly beard, a gut out to here, and a laugh that could dismantle a truck engine. He liked to pat her butt as she climbed off the back of his bike and she'd plant a kiss on lips lost somewhere in the middle of his whiskers.
“When your order's up the guys in the back will yell your name,” Karen said. I looked at her: I was used to scrambling to a kitchen to check on orders. “Betty started that years ago when it was just her and a couple of employees. It's actually a lot better than running back to the kitchen every couple of minutes. It's become part of the vibe here over the years.”

Karen helped me input an order for a family of four. A husband and wife sat at a table with their two small children and I watched the father play tic-tac-toe on a napkin with his young son. Every time I saw a family like that my heart hurt. “We still need milk for her,” the woman said, pointing to her toddler daughter.

“I forgot. I'm sorry,” I said, rushing to the waitress station. I filled a Styrofoam cup and put a lid on it. “There you go,” I said, setting it down in front of the girl. “Sorry,” I said to her parents.

“We come in here once a week,” the mother said. “So we know you're new.” She cut her daughter's French toast. “You won't remember our names yet but I'm Julie. This is Clayton and these two belong to us: Ava and Adam.” She looked up at me and smiled. “Don't let the jerks get you down.”

A man at a table with six other men lifted his coffee cup and I headed toward them. “Those are the mechanics from City Auto Service,” Karen said, handing me a fresh pot of
coffee. “Jack Andrews and that crew have been coming in here for years so you'll see them a lot.” I filled their cups and carried away the empty plates.

I noticed two older women sitting at a booth and jumped, not knowing how long they had been sitting there. I grabbed two ice waters and smiled as I approached them. They were opening a stack of mail sitting on the table. “Good morning,” I said, setting the waters in front of them.

“Well, who are you?” the first woman said. She was wearing a red sweatshirt with a mouse dressed like an elf on the front of it. “I know everyone in here but I don't know you. Where's your name tag?”

“As you can see, Gloria excels in proper etiquette,” the second woman said. “She should write the manners column for the newspaper.”

The first woman laughed and tiny, loose salt-and-pepper curls bounced around her face. “I'm Gloria Bailey,” she said, picking up a strand of curls and pinning them on top of her head.

“I'm Miriam,” the second woman said in an accent I couldn't pinpoint yet. Her hair hung in a sleek, honey-colored bob and a large diamond ring sparkled on her right hand.

“I'm Christine. I don't have a name tag yet.”

“Are you from here, Christine?” Gloria asked.

“Please, Gloria, must you put this poor woman through your twenty questions? Let her learn her job without being subjected to you so early in the morning.”

“I am taking the time to know her,” Gloria said. “You could learn to do the same.”

“I know all the people I want and most of them I don't like.”

“Miriam looks good on the outside,” Gloria said, “but inside she's nothing but tacky.”

I wasn't sure if they were angry at each other or if this was normal banter between the two of them. “Where are you from?” I asked.

They answered Georgia and England in unison.

Gloria looked up at me. “I would like bacon, egg, and cheese on an onion bagel with a cup of coffee. Miriam here will have a boiled egg, medium yolk, a piece of dry wheat toast, and a cup of English breakfast tea. I'd like to say that we vary from time to time but I'm afraid we're old and set in our ways and this is what we order all the time.”

I hurried to the computer so I could input their orders. It seemed like I was taking too long and I sensed someone standing behind me. Tasha was in college and I felt she was assured that she was far more brilliant than me and I'm sure she was. “I don't think I've done this right,” I said, looking at her.

She glanced at the screen. “Bacon, egg, and cheese on an onion bagel and a boiled egg, medium yolk, with dry wheat toast. Just send it through. If you take this long for each order you'll never get to all your tables. You have a guy at number six.”

I looked up and noticed the young man. He was tapping the corner of the menu on the table. He looked up as I approached and smiled. He had sandy brown hair, dark eyes, and solid, square shoulders.

“Hi,” he said, laying his menu on the table.

He held my gaze and I felt self-conscious. I had thrown my hair into a quick ponytail and forgotten to put on eye shadow. “Do you know what you'd like or do you need a few minutes?”

“If I need a few minutes that means you'll get to come back to my table again, right?”

Was I blushing? “Right,” I said.

“Then, yes, I will definitely need a few minutes.”
Was he flirting with me? No, couldn't be. He's younger than I am. He must have a girlfriend
. I turned to go but he stopped me. “What do you recommend?”

Why would that question make me smile?
Get over yourself, Christine
. “People really like the bacon, egg, and cheese on a bagel.”

“Do you like it?” he asked. His smile turned up into a dimple on one side of his face.

“I love bagel sandwiches, sure.” I sounded so stupid. Actually, I didn't care for bagel sandwiches one way or the other. I walked toward the kitchen to check on my orders. What just happened back there? Did that guy flirt with me?
No, he didn't. He didn't
, I told myself. My track record with men had been rocky to say the least. I had a knack for attracting losers. Since Brad left I had dated two men who turned out to be more messed up and dysfunctional than me. I shook my head. There's no way the guy at table six thought anything of me.
I look terrible. And even if he did flirt, he'd stop flirting the second he heard I have two children
. I put the food on a tray and placed a sprig of parsley and an orange slice on each plate before picking up a glass of water at the waitress station along with a coffeepot.

When I turned the corner I could feel the guy at table six watching me as I walked to Gloria and Miriam's table. “In case you're wondering,” Gloria whispered, “yes, he's still looking.”

“He's too young,” I said, putting her bagel sandwich in front of her.

“For you maybe,” she said. “He's fair game for me and Miriam.” Miriam laughed out loud.

“Shh,” I said. “He's going to know we're talking about him.”

“Let's use some sort of code,” Gloria said, watching as I poured her coffee. “Let's just refer to him as TS for table six. Get it?” Miriam rolled her eyes.

I filled the cups of the mechanics behind me one last time and left the bill on the table. When I turned around TS was smiling, his arm slung over the back of the bench. “Are you ready to order?” I asked, pushing loose hair behind my ear.

“Not really, but as much as I'd like it I don't think your boss would let you keep coming to my table empty-handed.” My face felt as red as Gloria's sweatshirt. He
was
flirting with me. Somehow this guy thought I was pretty and I felt like a high schooler again. He smiled and my stomach flipped. “I'll have the bagel sandwich you recommended. On what kind of bagel?”

“Onion,” I said, writing. “With a cup of coffee.”

I walked away and hoped he wasn't looking at my butt but hoped he
was
looking at my butt. Gloria and Miriam nodded; he was. I turned the corner to the waitress station and stepped next to Karen. “Do you know the guy at table six?” I asked. She turned to see him. “Don't look at him!” I said between my teeth. “He's looking over here.”

Karen opened a bakery case and pretended to move some pastries around, looking at him through the glass window. “I have no idea,” she said. She closed the case and stood back up. “I've never seen him before. Gloria and Miriam would know him. They know everybody.”

I finished inputting his order into the computer. “Not
everybody
,” I said.

Karen poured sugar packets from a bag into a bin beside the coffeemakers. “He's still looking over here.”

“He'll stop looking when he learns I have two kids.”

“You never know,” she said.

I put a cup on my tray and then picked up the coffeepot and a small pitcher of cream. Was Karen right? Could he be the kind of guy who would be interested in a woman with children?
No way
, I said to myself. Several customers motioned for me to warm up their coffee as I passed and I could see TS watching me.