Just For The Holidays (Home for the Holidays)

22. Teddy

Chapter 22

Teddy

Charmed

D awn welcomed bursting rays of sun into the sky, dazzling the town with roving shimmers over sheen blankets of compacted snow, covering the landscape. The sort of picturesque scenery that holiday spirit delights in. Christmas is just a few days away, and Teddy is ready for the break.

Gram traditionally closed the shop for big celebrations, and the three day stretch spanning Christmas eve, day, and the day after, always felt like a luxury vacation.

Teddy, on the other hand, is wallowing in his own shadowy fog this morning, visited by familiar ghosts of his past—anxiety and depression. He knows better than to put himself into hopeful but far-reaching situations. Nichol Anderson’s interest in him is as far-stretched as his fantasies could have taken him.

The high of self-induced delusion, these past few days, was bound to crash down around him, as it always does.

These gloomy dips in his personality are probably the reason people avoid coming into the bakery. Gram was a beacon that everyone loved, but he’s never been able to maintain a fraction of the brilliance she emitted effortlessly.

He gathered just enough perk to joyously deliver the excess baked goods to the food pantry and then took the longer loop back to the shop, hoping to lift the funk before facing the temporary assistant again.

Teddy’s mind is reeling with potential scripts for neutral conversation that might fill any awkward silence with the professional colleague . Deciding, if it's slow—which he hopes is the case—he can just let Nichol go home early, and man the shop alone for the day.

His plan is foiled when he arrives back at the bakery, pulling the truck into the side alley, after catching a glimpse of the small crowd gathered inside the storefront.

He hops out the squawking door, and makes his way around the corner, to the front of the shop, jingling with his entrance.

Charming Nichol is rosy-cheeked and panic-eyed, jotting down orders from several familiar faces Teddy hasn’t seen in ages.

“Hi everyone,” Teddy greets, suspiciously, as the group's heads turn toward him.

“Hi Theodore.” Debra McNally is the first to respond, followed by the others, repeating her in near unison.

Teddy squeezes around the group and takes position behind the counter, next to the lucky charm.

“Welcome back.” Nichol says, from the edge of his tense grin. “You said two dozen frosted sugar cookies, and a pumpkin pie, and an apple pie?” he asks Debra to clarify.

“Mm-hmm,” she hums. “I’ve not got enough time to bake everything myself this year. Will those be ready tomorrow afternoon?”

“Sorry.” Teddy whispers, then responds to Debra. “I’ll make sure they are.”

She smiles and passes Nichol cash.

Nichol slides a second notepad and pencil across the counter, toward the baker, without breaking eye contact with his customer—already a pro.

“It looks like your total is…” Nichol pauses to calculate, double-checking Teddy’s chalkboard scratchings. “Fifty-four dollars.”

“Thank you, gentlemen.” Debra smiles and trots out the door.

Teddy and Nichol both gather orders until the last customer is happy and out the door.

“I hope I did everything right.” Nichol bites his lip, nervously.

Teddy fills his diaphragm, “Where did they come from?” and exhales.

Nichol shrugs.

“What have I got to make?” Teddy leans over, peering at the pile of slips in Nichol’s hand.

Nichol shuffles the papers. “Six dozen cookies, seven pies, a wedding cake and I sold your left kidney.” Nichol stares at hm, straight-faced.

“A wedding cake?”

“I’m kidding.” Nichol chuffs, passing Teddy the orders. “Just the cookies and pies.’’

“I better get to work.” He averts his eyes.

“You okay today?” Nichol asks, gripping the slips tightly until Teddy meets his eyes.

“I’m good.” Teddy smiles, making enough effort that Nichol seems to believe it.

“Okay.” Nichol releases the slips, raises a brow, and sits down on his stool.

The door jingles.

“There he is.” Carl cheers.

“Hi dad.” Nichol’s voice drops disapprovingly, adding, “Mom…”