Just For The Holidays (Home for the Holidays)

18. Teddy

Chapter 18

Teddy

Proofing The Dough

“ W hat should we do for lunch?” Teddy peeks at the glossy red framed clock’s spoon shaped hands, pointing at 1:13 pm, as he slips the risen bread and burger-bun doughs into the oven for baking, then arranges the spread of fruit pies with neatly crimped edges, to follow.

“I think I’ll skip lunch.” Nichol grimaces.

“You need to eat something,” Teddy insists. “I can make us BLTs?”

Nichol thinks for a moment, before responding. “Okay.”

Teddy turns toward the sink and begins scrubbing his hands.

The doorbell chimes and cold air rushes in around Gretchen, bundled in a parka that hangs to her knees with a knit hat and matching scarf crowding her face around iced-blue eyes.

“Hello boys.” She peels the scarf and hat away, exposing her toothy smile, wild cherry hair and rosy cheeks.

“Hey Gretch. Everything’s still baking… Want a cup of coffee?” Teddy wipes his hands on a towel.

“Sure!” She strips mittens off her hands, “Were we expecting this much snow?” she says, grinning charmingly at Nichol.

Teddy shrugs, pouring a cup of coffee from the pot’s spout. “Milk and sugar?”

“Yes please.” She drops onto a stool and unzips her coat. “So; Nichol, where are you visiting from?”

“Seattle,” he answers.

“Great city.”

“I love it there.” Nichol agrees.

Gretchen’s dominant presence is powerfully comforting in that ‘cool auntie’ way. There’s a warmth in the gravel of her voice and her crystalline gaze pierces anyone’s hardened exterior. Even Nichol is enchanted by her.

“How long are you in town for?” She asks, pursing her thin lips and sipping her brew.

“Not too long.” Nichol sets his empty cup down and leans on an elbow.

Teddy’s stare is captured by a peek of Nichol’s creamy skin, under the rising hem of his shirt, over his jutting hip bone, as he drapes his long body on the counter.

“It’s a long story, but I’m just staying with my sister and her family until my friend Colby finds me a new gig.” He turns back to see Teddy’s eyes fixed on his middle and stands upright, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Ahh… struck by big corporate lay-offs?” Gretchen guesses. “That’s what sent me back here from Chicago twelve years ago. Used my severance to buy the bar.” She beams with pride.

“I blew mine on trips to Spain and shitty rental cars,” Nichol admits, wincing.

“How’s your visit going?” She narrows her eyes, interrogating him.

“I’ve only been here a few days, but Teddy here has been accommodating.” He pauses. “This gets me out of the basement that I grew up in.”

“Who’s your sister?”

“Katie Cole,” Nichol answers.

“Doc Cole’s wife,” Teddy adds.

“Oh, yes.” Gretchen smiles widely, displaying her pearly white smile. “He made me these babies,” she says happily. “Had the old choppers ripped out and the Doc fixed me up.” Her brow furrows. “Made me promise to quit smoking before he’d do it though.”

“Sounds like Anthony,” Nichol comments with a chuckle.

The developing scent of fully baked bread fills the shop and Teddy draws the oven open, slipping on frilly pink mits, and producing the golden pillows, setting them aside to cool, then sliding the pies into the racks.

“Nichol and I are about to have BLTs, would you like one?” Teddy offers Gretchen.

“Absolutely!” She slips her coat off her shoulders, letting it drape off the stool beneath her, and settles in.

Teddy fires up a burner on the stovetop and sets a cast-iron skillet over the flame, dropping two chunks of butter in to melt. He gathers a package of bacon, from the butcher down the street, a tomato, and lettuce. “Do either of you want cheese?”

“Of course,” Nichol and Gretchen both pause their chatter to reply.

Teddy adds cheddar to the stack in his arms and drops the supply onto the prep table. He lays slabs of bacon into the pan, sizzling and popping on contact, then turns back to slice the tomato and lay out pieces of bread from his own supply.

He twists back to the stove to add a flared sprinkling of salt to the bacon and carries on stacking the bread slices with lettuce, tomato, and cheese.

“Have you had Teddy’s cooking yet, Nichol?” Gretchen asks. Grinning. “I’m sure you’ve had his baking, but his chef skills are out of this world too,” she adds. “He and my Joey team up to cater a spread for our Friendsgiving party every year.”

“Really?” Nichol unfolds his arms and leans one hand on the counter, poking the other in his pocket.

“Mm-hmm,” she winks at Teddy.

His cheeks sizzle like the bacon, as he slathers mayo over the top slices of bread, gathers the crisped strips from the pan, adds them to the sandwiches, and then lays the three stacks into the greasy residue to toast.

“His scrambled eggs and toast were pretty delicious,” Nichol comments.

Gretchen’s smile stretches wide and her brow lifts like she’s unveiled a secret.

Teddy plates the golden sandwiches, and delivers them to the counter.

“Mmm,” Gretchen delights in the delicious sight, before gripping hers in both hands and chomping a near quarter into her mouth, moaning almost inappropriately.

Teddy’s belly flutters as he glances at Nichol, humming in agreement with Gretchen, closing his eyes and savoring his mouthful with a dreamy grin.