A Little Bit of Christmas (Crystal Lake 3)

Now, Cash wasn’t the kind of guy to wait around for anyone, but something about this woman had him stomping his feet, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, and glancing around to see if anyone was watching, because he felt like an idiot standing in front of her door. He was no different from his fifteen-year-old self, waiting for Sue Weatherby to sneak out of her house so they could go to the river and make out—Sue looking for some form of commitment and Cash hoping to finally move past third base.

When it was obvious Chess wasn’t answering her door, Cash turned and tucked his chin as another gust of wind hit, and trekked through the snow. He stopped midway to the diner and thought that maybe she’d been in the shower or had been drying her hair and didn’t hear him—he turned around and took a step back, but put the brakes on before he marched his butt over there like some damn Neanderthal and made a fool of himself. If Chess wanted company, she knew where the diner was.

He trudged through the snow and pushed his way inside. He was hit by a wall of heat and almost immediately heard his name. Shaking snow from his boots, he looked around. The lights were dimmed, and candles were lit on most of the tables. Somewhere, Elvis Presley’s ode to Blue Christmas played, and he smelled cinnamon. Joely motioned him over to where she sat at a table in the corner, a glass of red wine in her hand.

“Steve loves the King. We’ve already listened to the entire Elvis Christmas record, twice.” Joely winked. “Glad you showed,” she said with a grin, holding up her wine in welcome. “I wasn’t sure if you would.” She wore a faded red sweater overtop jeans, and she’d pinned Rudolph to her chest. The nose glowed when she moved. Her hair was styled somewhat, piled on top of her head and—Cash looked closer—colored lights flashed from between the waves.

“LED,” she said, laughing. “I saw this in some magazine and thought, why not?” She patted her hair. “Do you like it?”

“It’s something else,” Cash replied with a nod.

Joely pointed to a bucket on the counter. It was filled with ice and beer. “Steve had an extra case in his room, so you can thank him for that.”

Cash said hello to a couple huddled together at a smaller table by the window and then helped himself to a cold Stella before walking back to Joely.

“Steve need help back there?” Whatever he was cooking up had his mouth watering and stomach rumbling.

“Nah,” she replied. “He doesn’t like anyone in his kitchen.”

The door to the diner blew open, and Cash turned, a ready smile on his face that slowly faded when an older man who moved slower than any human Cash had ever seen shuffled inside. Joely was up and out of her chair like a shot to help the old guy to a spot right beside her. She fussed over him.

“Cash, this is Mr. Williams.”

The old man doffed his hat, and it took a bit for him to catch his breath before he looked at Cash. “Call me Ted and we’ll get along just fine.” His face was lined with age, his blue eyes faded, and he had a full head of snow-white hair.

“Ted it is,” Cash replied. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“I’m good.” Ted reached inside his parka and retrieved a small flask. “Now if Joely would grab me a glass and some ice, I’ll be better than good.” He winked at the waitress, and she obliged. While Joely was busy getting his glass, he sat back in his chair and looked up at Cash. “You’re the young buck in thirty-one.”

Cash nodded.

“You from around here?”

“No. Originally from Florida. Lately from pretty much everywhere.”

“Just passing through?”

“You could say that. My sister lives here.”

Ted accepted the glass from Joely and added a good amount of whiskey to the ice before glancing up at Cash. “That story sounds familiar.” He took a gulp and hissed as the fire burned down his throat. “I passed through this town in sixty-three. Had no plans on staying, that’s for damn sure. I’m originally from Kentucky, and my buddy had just been drafted. I knew my number was up, that I could be called next, and the military was no life for me. Too hard-headed to take orders. My plan was to join up with relatives in Canada. Had a job lined up in their family business and a future.

“But then I stopped at this small café in the town center. There was a sign out front advertising a Reuben as their sandwich of the day. Now, I love a good Reuben, so I took a seat inside, and the prettiest girl I’d ever seen brought me the worst coffee I’d ever tasted. And that was it. I took one look at her and knew I wasn’t going anywhere.”

Joely sighed. “I love this story.”

“I put a ring on that woman’s finger one month before I shipped off to ’Nam, and Bernie was waiting for me when I got back four years later.” Ted’s eyes glazed over. “Lord, I’m looking forward to se

eing her again.”

Steve walked into the diner from the kitchen, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, carrying a large tray laden with pots. “Dinner’s ready.”

He arranged everything on the counter and, when it was displayed to his satisfaction, stood back and for the first time smiled.

Cash supposed it didn’t matter the cigarette violated all kinds of health inspection laws, because the homemade meal more than made up for it. There was no turkey or ham, nothing fancy like that. But Steve had pulled together homemade meatloaf, garlic mashed potatoes, Brussels sprouts, which Cash could take or leave, mixed green salad, and a pickle tray that, more than anything, reminded Cash of his youth.

His grandmother used to bring one for Christmas dinner every single year until his dad left and everything went to hell.

Cash stood by his table and waited while the older couple made their way to the counter and filled their plates. Joely was doling out a generous amount of food for Ted, and Steve was digging in as well.