A Curvy Carol (A Curvy Girl Christmas #2)

6. Whit

6

WHIT

O n the way to Scrooge’s, Carolynn finally told me about the crafting stuff she had in her bag.

“Cross-stitching?” I said. “I thought only grandmothers did that.”

She gave me a shove. Not nearly enough strength behind it to do any real damage, but I pretended to fall anyway.

“Just so you know, plenty of young people cross-stitch,” she replied. She sounded offended, but I was pretty sure she was just teasing.

We kept walking. “Do you knit too?” I went on.

She put her hands on her hips and stopped walking. “Actually, yes. And I crochet too. What of it?”

I laughed, and she shoved me again, but it only made me laugh more. I was actually having fun with her–and feeling a lot less lonely. “Nothing’s wrong with crafting,” I replied. “It’s kind of cute, actually.”

She rolled her eyes, and we kept walking, but I could see the hint of a smile on her face. Her green eyes always smiled before her lips followed.

This had worked out way better than I could’ve imagined so far. I had to admit that I really liked Carolynn already. I liked spending time with her.

We made it to Scrooge’s and went inside, getting out of the cold. I held open the door and gave a playful bow. Carolynn led the way, and we made our way to a booth tucked in the corner.

I sat down and looked around. “Where are the Christmas decorations? Everywhere else I’ve been has had about five different Christmas trees and enough tinsel to make the world’s biggest tangle.”

Carolynn shook her head. “That’s because the owner of this place is Scrooge.”

I looked at her. “Scrooge? I thought that was your name.”

She let out a surprised laugh and then playfully hit my arm. “It might surprise you to know there’s one person in town who hates Christmas more than me.”

“Are you being serious?”

“As a heart attack,” she quipped, pulling out a menu from the holder with the salt and pepper shakers and all the little sweetener packets. “His parents owned this place, back when they were still alive. They passed away a long time ago, so he’s run it since he was really young. People say he was never the same after his parents died. Hence the nickname Scrooge. He’s a good guy, just doesn’t like Christmas anymore.”

A middle-aged guy with a backward hat walked out of the back. He wore a flannel shirt, and he just had that sort of worn look, like life had put him through the wringer one too many times.

Someone at the counter opened a laptop and asked him a question making his eyebrows draw together. “This place is for eating only,” he said gruffly. “Not some internet café.”

I gave her a skeptical look. Scrooge did not look like he belonged on the “nice list” to me.

“No, I mean, he’s also pretty cranky most of the time too,” she added in a whisper. “But that’s Scrooge. He’s harmless, really. And he’d do anything for you if you really needed him. Just keeps to himself most of the time.” She glanced down at the menu, although I had a feeling everyone in this town probably had it memorized.

“Hm,” I said, curious. But I picked up the menu and started going through it.

Heavy footsteps sounded nearby, and we looked up to see Scrooge approaching. “What’ll ya have?” he asked, getting straight to the point.

“Two orange sodas,” I said, glancing at Carolynn.

She opened her mouth, but then nodded.

He left with a grunt.

We kept looking at the menu. It had all of your standard stuff.

“It’s pretty basic,” Carolynn said. “You know, Scrooge is always open to suggestions on how to improve it though.”

“Really?” I asked, studying her. This place looked kind of untouched by time.

“Oh yeah.” She nodded. “He’ll even give you a free meal if he uses one of your suggestions.”

Before I could ask more, Scrooge was back with our drinks.

He set them down and stood there. I looked up at him, waiting for him to say something, only to realize he was waiting on us to order.

I turned back to the menu. “Uh, I’ll have the burger and fries, please.” I noticed the menu said they were crinkle fries, and without really thinking about it, I added, “You know, you should really call them Kris Krinkle Fries.” Maybe I would get a free meal out of this for both of us.

Silence.

I went on. “You know, Kris Kringle. Like Santa Claus? Kris Kringle Fries. Perfect for Christmas in Garland.”

Scrooge’s lips settled into a hard line, and Carolynn’s mouth fell open a bit as her eyes darted between us.

“Christmas,” Scrooge spat out, “is the worst time of the year. Did you know that? This town is downright foolish for buying into it so much. Just making corporations richer, year after year.”

My mouth fell open too. “Oh, uh… I think it’s kind of nice.”

“Nice?” A vein in his neck bulged.

I shifted in my seat. “Yeah. All the lights and stuff? It’s pretty.”

Scrooge pointed to the door. “Get out.”

I tried to open my mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

“OUT!” Scrooge yelled.

A few people at the other side of the diner turned our way, snickering.

I turned to Carolynn for help, but she was already grabbing her stuff and getting up. I stood up too, and we hurried toward the door.

“Don’t let the door hit ya!” Scrooge called.

Once we were outside, I stared at Carolynn. “What—”

Then she burst out laughing. Like, non-stop, clutching-her-side laughing.

Meanwhile, I could only stare at her in shock.

When she finally stopped laughing, she wiped at her eyes. “Oh my gosh, that was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Funny? I’m pretty sure he was close to punching me. Or having a coronary.” My own heart was still beating fast.

She began laughing again. “I told you he was cranky and didn’t like Christmas, and then you went and told him…”

She couldn’t finish her sentence because she started laughing again.

I stood there, blinking. “You’re the worst.”

When she was done laughing, she said, “Don’t sweat it. Scrooge is part of the Garland charm. Getting kicked out of the diner is like an initiation.”

“An initiation, huh?” I said sarcastically. “More like a near-death experience. I’m pretty sure my life flashed before my eyes.”

She laughed some more at my expense. “Don’t worry. My friends and I got kicked out two years ago for trying to gift him a ball cap that looked like a Santa hat.”

I shook my head as I pulled out the notebook from her bag, flipped it open, and crossed off eating at Scrooge’s Diner. “Let’s move on to the next thing, shall we?” I suggested. I looked down to read the list. “I know. Let’s go get a souvenir from Santa’s Bag. Sounds safe.”

She snickered as I gave the notebook back.

“Let’s go, Christmas Carol,” I teased.

That had her rolling her eyes again. “Don’t call me that.” There was still a smile in her eyes as she said it, though.

“I think it suits you,” I joked.

Shaking her head, she said, “Come on. But then we’re done. This is about all the Christmas cheer I can take in one day.”