Christmas Eve Love Story

Eleven

Braden set their coffees on the table, and they both slid into the booth. He held the paper bag of jelly donuts in one hand. “Donut?” he asked, prying the bag open. Annie unwound her neck scarf and folded it up, tucking it in the canvas bag beside her.

“No thanks, but you go right ahead.”

He was glad he’d stayed late to help her clean up. There was something about Annie that was just so special. She was unique—yet familiar, in a way he couldn’t place.

She took a sip of coffee. “Thanks for this. It’s really good.”

“Yeah, the coffee’s great here.” He picked up a donut and took a bite. “Hmm. Very tasty.” Braden pulled a napkin from the dispenser, wiping his fingers. “Sorry. These can get a little messy.”

She shrugged. “Sometimes messy is good, right?”

He thought of her totaled window display. “Sometimes, sure.” He polished off the donut in another two bites and closed the bag. “Other messes though?” He frowned. “They’re best to be avoided.”

“Like those kids wrecking my window.”

“Exactly.” Suddenly, in his mind’s eye, a sandstorm whirled around him, and he was caught up in a swirling brown cloud, which was not where he wanted to be at the moment. Where he wanted to be was present with Annie. He pulled himself together and pushed the donut bag aside. “Sounds like you stayed busy before Lawson’s,” he said, picking up his coffee. “Was that how you got your training—through those apprenticeships?”

She wrapped both hands around her coffee cup and grinned. “It was.”

“Well, you seem to be a natural at it. It’s nice when someone finds their work fit.”

“How about you? How’d you wind up at Lawson’s?”

He stared down at his coffee, not sure he wanted to go there, but he didn’t want to be rude. “Ah, I was in the service for a while.”

She nodded. “Army, right?”

He pushed back in his seat. “Wow, yeah. How did you know that?”

She fiddled with her mittens on the table, setting them on top of her hat. “I just—had a hunch?” She looked like he’d called her out on something, but there was no real way she could have known. Maybe it was a fair assumption, given his current job. A lot of former service members made similar transitions. She looked adorably embarrassed for having put two and two together. He gave her credit for her sharp analytics.

He playfully shook his finger at her. “You, Annie Jones, are a very good guesser.” He slumped back in the booth and crossed his arms. Wait. That felt strangely déjà vu–like tripping off his tongue. No. When would I have said that? He blinked, clearing his head. “I was in the army, yeah, but I didn’t work for a while before coming to Lawson’s.” He heaved a breath, not sure why he should hide it. “I was at a hospital in Germany recovering.”

“Recovering?”

He rested his forearms on the table and slumped forward. “Broke both my legs on a mission in Iraq and got airlifted out.”

She put down her cup. “Oh, Braden. That sounds awful.”

“It wasn’t great.” He frowned and stared out the window, the flurrying snow carrying him far, far away. Evening commuters hurried by, along with shoppers holding brimming sacks. Most had their heads ducked against the snow. Some held umbrellas. A wind gust turned a few umbrellas inside out. “But, you know”—he shrugged—“I survived it.” His mind plodded through gusts of sand and plumes of choking black smoke.

She gently squeezed his arm. “What happened?” Her words were low and tender, and he experienced a tug on his heartstrings. “Sorry.” She winced. “Didn’t mean to pry.”

Strangely, it didn’t feel like prying coming from Annie. Even more strangely, he felt like telling her. His gut twisted at the memory. It wasn’t a pretty one. Still. Somehow he felt safe with her. She was timid, but she was kind. She was also strong. He could sense that.

He swallowed past the burn in his throat. “I was in charge of my squad,” he said, “and getting us to the rendezvous point with rest of our platoon. Unfortunately”—he stared at her, spiraling into the darkness—“our convoy got rammed by a truck carrying explosives.” He pulled himself back from that ledge, aware of her touch. Her support. Her caring.

She tightened her grasp on his arm. “Ambushed,” she gasped.

He steadied his voice and continued. “My vehicle crunched up like an accordion, the steering column and everything got pushed back. Honestly? I’m lucky to be alive. Not everyone”—he brought his fist to his mouth; it was still pretty raw—“was so lucky.”

A moist sheen coated her eyes. “Oh, Braden. That’s really hard,” she said, still hanging on to him.

“Anyway.” He sat back against the booth, and his arm slid out from under her grasp. “I decided I’d had enough of the army after that. My mom had recently lost my stepdad and was on her own in the city, and I’d always liked New York. So.” He shrugged. “I decided to come home.”

“Well, I—for one—am very glad you did.” Her expression was so sincere, it was almost heartbreaking. What was he doing, laying his worries on her? Shame washed through him, and he held open his hands. “Just look at me chewing up your time with my sob stories. I’m sorry, Annie. Really, I am. What a way to say merry Christmas! Bah-humbug on me.”

“No,” she said softly. “Don’t be. I’m just sorry you went through that.” She scanned his eyes. “Thanks for telling me.” She really was an incredible person, so unlike anyone he’d ever known. And yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he did already know her.

***

Annie walked alongside Braden in silence, both of them perusing the storefront windows. She was headily aware of the attractive man beside her. This had felt so much like a date, but of course it hadn’t been a real one. Braden didn’t even remember meeting her before this version of her day. And still. He’d been comfortable enough around her to open up about his very personal past. He cut her a sideways glance. “I hope I didn’t overburden you back there at the Blue Dot.”

“Absolutely not,” she said as they strolled along. “I’ve liked spending time with you.” Lots and lots of time, more time than you know. Her heart ached. Oh, if only you remembered it too.

“Yeah, Annie,” he said huskily. “I feel the same.”

He looked around at the bustling crowds and the snarled up traffic, gazing at the decorated lampposts and squinting his eyes against the snow. “I’ve always liked the city at Christmas. My folks used to bring me here to look at—” They passed another window display and he blinked. “Huh. That’s so weird .”

“What is?”

He cleared a powdery layer of snowflakes off his hat. “I just had the strangest sensation that I’d told you that before. And about me, and my mom and stepdad moving to New York from Pennsylvania.”

Annie was unsure of what to say. He appeared to sometimes remember some things, but only very vaguely. If only he could recall all of it, like she did—treasuring every moment. “You mean like déjà vu?”

“Yeah, I guess you could call it that. But no.” He paused and stared at her. “I mean, we never even talked before today, and I know I didn’t mention that at the store, or at the café.”

“That’s why déjà vu’s such a mystery.” She shrugged. “Nobody’s totally sure where it comes from .” Except for me, in this case. Because you did tell me about moving here as a kid earlier. “There are other mysteries in the universe,” she said broaching the topic lightly. “Relating to time travel and such.” What if he believed in that stuff? That could give her an opening to talk about time loops. Maybe she could tell him then?

He hooted a laugh. “What?”

Or maybe not.

Braden shot her the side-eye. “Hang on. You’re not serious? About time travel? I mean, ah. It’s very fun in fiction.”

It wasn’t technically travel if you kept traveling back to the same day, was it? Or maybe it was, sort of. A time loop with loopholes. Great. Of course she didn’t get a normal one.

A muscle in his cheek flinched. “Annie?” He searched her eyes, and Annie wanted to die. Time loops? Ha! He thought she was the loopy one. And honestly? She didn’t blame him.

“Nooo!” she lied. “Just kidding! What I meant was, ‘There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio.’”

He quirked a grin. “Shakespeare.”

“Yeah.”

This seemed to intrigue him. “You like the theater?”

Her bag slipped on her shoulder, and she fixed it. “I do.”

“Cool.” They reached her subway stop. “Maybe we could go sometime?”

“I’d like that,” she said.

He nodded, and she noticed the Christmas bell ringer dressed as Santa behind him on the corner. Maybe he’d been there all along, and she’d just now seen him. Sort of like she hadn’t noticed Braden at the start. He had her full attention now.

“Hope you have a very merry Christmas, Annie.”

She smiled, sad to say goodbye. But that was silly. If this time loop with loopholes held, she’d be seeing him tomorrow, and the day after that possibly. Chances of them getting to the theater at this point were slim. “Thanks, Braden. You too.”