Christmas Home (The Coming Home #6)

22. Clyde

twenty-two

Clyde

I should’ve rebuffed all the attention. I knew it and beat myself up a little about not doing so, but Ruther and Corey had only come to hang out with me during my breaks. The occasional strolls home alongside Ruther were so sweet, I couldn’t resist. I was a major romantic, after all, and even if we were sworn only to be friends, I had to appreciate his consistent kindness.

I already knew long after these evenings were no longer part of my life, I’d think fondly of them. Was I a sucker? Yeah, but who cared? I needed these kinds of memories to counterbalance all the nasty ones.

Ruther hadn’t mentioned going to have wine and cheese at the fancy hotel with me and Corey since we’d made those plans, so I wondered if maybe he’d forgotten or wanted to back out. If we were still on, he’d either have to say something on the stroll home from work tonight, or he’d have to come to the motel and get me tomorrow.

Perhaps him forgetting or canceling would be a good thing. I’d become more and more paranoid about the motel and people recognizing me there. I knew my cousin Lewellen, as hateful as she was, wouldn’t tattle on me to that slob Jimmy, but I didn’t know who else might.

It was best if that world didn’t collide anytime soon with this one. Ruther coming to the motel was more than I could handle. I hoped he wouldn’t, even if that meant no fancy wine and cheese night.

I ended up having to put in a longer day than usual since all the tourists had begun swarming town. Lately, we spent all our time fixing more food and less time cleaning. Mrs. Cole told me it was rare, but sometimes the summer months were like this.

Regardless, since working at the café, I’d begun to take some ownership, and leaving it a mess was more than I could stomach, so I was happy to give the extra time.

By the time I finished, I didn’t expect to see Ruther. To my surprise, though, I came out of the back to see Mrs. Cole sitting across from him, poking him to eat one of the chocolate meringues she’d just pulled out of the oven for tomorrow.

“I see some folks are getting special treatment,” I said, smiling even bigger when Mrs. Cole blushed at my accusation.

“Now, you behave. I needed to wile my ways to get Mr. Ruther here to eat something while he waited for you to finish.”

“Mrs. Cole, this is divine,” he said. “I can’t remember ever eating anything like it.”

She laughed and the blush returned. “Well, you enjoy that with your beau, and make sure you bring that cutie pie assistant of yours in tomorrow to have some.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ruther said, and I swear I heard a little Southern twang mixed in with his highbrow New York accent.

The chuckle kept me from correcting her about me being Ruther’s beau, and I sat across from him as he finished his pie. “You know she guards those desserts like an old mother hen watching her chicks. She never lets anyone have a bite before she puts it out on the buffet.”

Ruther smiled. “I have a feeling my privileges stem from her appreciation of you. She couldn’t stop telling me all your attributes.”

It was my turn to blush now. “Really? She said all that?” I asked, looking back toward where my boss had just disappeared.

When I turned back toward Ruther, he was nodding. “It doesn’t take a very observant person to see you’re a hard worker, Clyde. You’re smart and considerate, but Mrs. Cole is clever and knows how lucky she was when you showed up to work here.”

I stared at him, waiting for him to laugh or point out that he was joking. People never said nice things about me without a punch line at the end.

When he just kept eating the pie, I shrugged. Yeah, I worked hard. People like me had to. It was either that or find yourself homeless and in a gutter somewhere. As I’d been told most of my life, I wasn’t anything special.

“Somebody’s got a sweet tooth,” I said to change the subject.

“I really want another piece of this,” Ruther said and sighed after swallowing the last bite.

“You’ll have to come back tomorrow. Oh, just so you know, I made that one myself. First time Mrs. Cole let me do it.”

“Wait, you made it? You know how to make this?” he asked, sounding almost excited. It was cute.

“Yep, I knew how to make a chocolate meringue pie before coming here, but now I know the secret to making it taste like that,” I said, wagging my eyebrows suggestively.

Ruther grinned. “Okay, that’s it. Who should I ask for your hand in marriage?”

“Hand in marriage? All it takes is a slice of pie to win you over?” I asked, laughing now.

“Pie for life, you mean. I’ve already been courting you like some Victorian gentleman, so should I ask Mrs. Cole for her blessing?”

I was still laughing at the thought when he stood up, acting like he was looking for my boss.

“Stop that. You’re gonna get me in trouble or get the gossipy tongues waggin’. Come on, I’ll walk you home,” I said.

I knew he’d been teasing, but I liked the old-fashioned courting like we were in an old-time novel or something. I shook my head before I got any lovesick notions and led him out the door.

“So, are we still on for tomorrow?” Ruther asked as we walked more briskly than usual did toward his building. “At the hotel’s wine bar, I mean.”

I closed my eyes and let the happy thrill zing through me for a moment before I nodded. “Yep, if you’re still willin’ to waste your money on such things, I’m game.”

“Then let’s meet here around noon. Corey said he’s got his hands full in the morning, which works fine, considering wine for breakfast might be a bad idea.”

I chuckled and smiled. “If this local stuff is as good as you say, drinking wine anytime is probably a wonderful idea,” I said and paused outside the door to his building. “And yes, I’ll be here tomorrow at high noon.”

Ruther leaned forward, and for a moment, I thought he would kiss me. Luckily, or maybe not so lucky, he stopped short and just smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.” Then he turned and walked through the door.

I walked, mesmerized and distracted, all the way to the motel, not doing my usual scan of the parking lot. I’d just gotten to my door when I heard laughter and turned around to see who it was.

The guy from before who’d said he recognized me was staring at me from the parking lot. His buddies were facing him, but he was ignoring them. When I made eye contact, he winked and gave me an evil grin that, more than anything, told me my happy days here were about to come to an end.