Christmas Eve Love Story

Sixteen

Braden opened his paper sack, offering Annie one of the two jelly donuts he’d gotten.

“Oh no, those are for you.” Still, she looked tempted.

She wasn’t as shy as he’d first suspected. She had a subtle sassy side that could be very direct. Like when she’d invited him out for coffee. And he was awfully glad she had. Otherwise, he’d been prepared to ask her. “You’re the one who mentioned the jelly donuts here.”

She shrugged. “I thought you might enjoy them.”

“You’re such a good guesser,” he teased. “And you’re right. These are the best.”

She reached for the bag. “I’ll take half.” She broke one in two. A burst of gooey red jelly stuck to her fingers.

“I’ll take that.” He accepted the morsel before she could return it to the bag. She nibbled on her treat, and so did he.

“Mmm.” She smacked her lips. “Delicious!”

She had little white powder dots stuck to her lips, making her look adorable. He motioned with his napkin, and she got it, wiping her mouth.

She took a sip of coffee. “I haven’t had a donut in—well, a really long time I guess.”

“Why not?”

She shrugged. “I’m normally not huge into…” He thought she was going to say sweets. Some people were like that. Having more of a salt tooth than a sugar one. Instead she said, “food.”

He frowned. “Really?” That was such a foreign concept to him.

“I mean, I haven’t been. Typically.” She finished the rest of her donut half, gobbling it down. “At least not for a while.”

He wondered what she meant by that. “So. You used to be more into donuts and such?”

“Oh yeah, hugely when I was a kid.” She took a small sip of coffee. “In high school, I was in the baking club.”

“There was a baking club?” he asked, amazed.

“I wasn’t into it at first. My friend Tina made me join, thinking if I learned to make tasty treats, I’d ultimately enjoy them.”

“But no?” he asked, dumbfounded.

Annie shook her head. “Not so much, but it was fun watching others drooling over our goodies. We met once a month and tried out new recipes. There was an anonymous vote to see whose dish was the favorite.”

“How was it anonymous?”

“All the cakes, pies, or whatevers, were laid out on a table and numbered—no names. People tasted a small sample of each and voted on their favorites. Sometimes, teachers stopped in ‘by coincidence,’ asking if we wanted their opinions too.”

He chuckled at this. “Sneaky teachers.”

“We didn’t mind. There was always more than enough.”

“So. Always sweet stuff? Desserts?”

She nodded. “Generally. We did a holiday party with lunch foods too, and another one like it at the end of the year.”

He leaned back on his bench and patted his tummy. “That sounds like my kind of club.”

“Yeah. You mentioned cannoli.”

“What? Did I?”

Eeep. “At some point, I think so? Is your family Italian?”

“Yeah, third generation. Tate was my stepdad’s last name. He formally adopted me after marrying my mom, since I was the only little kid at home. My sisters were all a lot older and out on their own.”

“And your dad?”

He shrugged. “He died when I was so little, it’s hard to remember a ton about him. Other than his laugh—he had a great one, and his smile—really kind.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” he said, meaning it. “My stepdad Fred was really good to me. That’s why we moved to the city, me and my mom, after my mom married him.”

Annie nodded, seeming to process this. “What else were you into back in high school?” he asked her. He liked learning about her past.

“Working on set design for the high school plays. Tina was the thespian. I got her into that.”

He smiled. “Sounds like you two were good for each other.” He studied her a moment, understanding her interest in visual aesthetics went way back. “So window dressing isn’t such a stretch.”

“No.” She shrugged happily. “It was a natural fit. And you?” she asked him. “What were you into as a kid?”

“Sports. Music.”

“Music? You mean like favorite bands?”

“I mean I was in a band. Garage band. Except we didn’t have a garage, so my buddies and I practiced in the alleyway next to our apartment building.”

She smirked teasingly. “Bet your neighbors loved that.”

“Ha, yeah.” He smiled at the memory of all the heavy-duty power cords streaming out of windows. “We never went anywhere, other than to play at a few high school parties.”

“That’s pretty cool.”

“You might not say that if you’d heard us.”

“Come on.” She grinned. “I’ll bet you were good. What did you play?”

“Electric keyboard. My folks were very tolerant.” He shook his head. “They were also glad when it ended.” He laughed. “So were the neighbors.”

She seemed to be eying the donut bag. “We do have another,” he said. “If you want one more?”

“Oh no, I couldn’t. Really. If I eat that, that will be my dinner.”

He whistled. “That’s a very light dinner in my book.”

“You’re right. And anyway, I won’t be eating until later.”

He opened the bag and split the second donut with her, enjoying their snack and their conversation. “No?”

“I’m making chili for my neighbor, Harrington.”

A muscle in his cheek flinched. He wasn’t jealous, of course not. Annie had her own life. Still, he asked, “Harrington?”

“He’s a gentleman in my building.” Annie read his probing look. “A much older gentleman.”

His tension eased, though he didn’t know why. It wasn’t like he was dating Annie. Not even close. “That’s nice of you to look out for him.”

“He lives alone,” Annie explained. “Lost his wife some time ago.” She shrugged. “So I thought it would be nice to do something.”

He viewed her admiringly. “Do you know your other neighbors?”

“Most of them. Another guy lives on the ground floor, same as Harrington. That’s Eric. He’s younger and in grad school at NYU. Then there’s Jane. She’s the sweetest, and a hardworking single mom. I’ve just started getting to know her, and Bea.”

“And Bea is?”

“She’s the older lady who lives across the hall from me. Not ‘older’ older like Harrington, who’s more like old enough to be my grandpa. I’d say in her late fifties or so.”

“That’s cool you know the people in your building,” he said. “I don’t know any of them in mine. I pass folks walking their dogs occasionally and we say hi, but that’s about it.”

“It can be hard to reach out,” she said, like she knew a lot about it. Although that was hard to believe. She’d so easily impacted him with her kindness.

“So, tell me about Tina.” They’d chatted some while re-dressing Annie’s Christmas tree at Lawson’s, and Braden was curious to learn more.

She blinked in surprise. “There isn’t much to tell.”

“You said at the store you’d had a falling-out. When we were talking about best friends, and I told you about Harper and his family.”

“Ahh, it’s a long story, and”—she glanced at the snowy scene outside and people hustling by on the sidewalk—“we don’t have much time.”

“Maybe give me the short version?” He didn’t know why he was encouraging her to share. It wasn’t like they were that well acquainted. Still. He sensed that she needed another friend. Maybe he did too.

She hung her head. “Tina said something to me about Roy.”

He could pretty much guess Roy was an ex. “What did she say?”

“She hinted that he was a player. Unfaithful. And also, bad for me in other ways.”

Braden set his jaw, not liking the sound of that. “Was he?”

“Unfortunately, yeah,” she said sadly. “The thing is, I refused to believe Tina.”

“I see.”

“I really regret it now.” She frowned. “But so much time has gone by.”

“How much time?”

She whimpered. “Months.”

“Annie.” Braden reached out and took her hand on the table. “It’s never too late to make amends.”

Her chin quivered. “In this case, I’m afraid it might be.”

He held her hand tighter. “You won’t know until you try?”

She exhaled a shaky breath. “I’m sure you’re right.”

“It’s Christmas, hey,” he said. “Good things happen.”

Her laugh was a little melancholy. “You’re the second person who’s said that to me today.”

“Let me guess,” he ribbed. “The other was Santa?”

“No.” A smile graced her lips. “Jane.”

He couldn’t resist the banter. “Guess I’m not the great guesser you are, huh?”

This made her chuckle again, just as he’d hoped.

She squeezed his hand and released it. “Thanks, Braden.”

His heart wrenched when she let go, like he’d inexplicably lost something. Whoa. That was weird. He barely even knew Annie. He folded his napkin over on the table, hunting for something else to say. “So!” he said, looking up. “Santa likes oatmeal raisin cookies! Who knew?”

“I know, right?” She leaned toward him. “At least he should be happier with our display tomorrow.” Braden liked the way she’d said our display, like she’d let him into her world and he’d been a part of it.

But wait. “Tomorrow? Isn’t that Christmas Day?”

“Oh, right!”

“So, our guy Santa will be very busy.”

“No,” she corrected lightly. “He’ll be busy tonight.”