Nice Until Proven Naughty

Nice

“Thank you so much, dear.”

Mrs. Bauman holds out her wrinkled hands and takes the bag from Ben.

Sweet, swoony Ben who just trudged a quarter mile in a snowstorm to get a little old lady her medicine.

“You’re welcome.”

With a sigh, I sit back and watch him sift through the hundred or so meds she has, to find the ones she needs right now. He gets her a bottle of water and some food, and he doesn’t leave her side until she’s taken them all and is warm and cozy with a blanket he pulled from the back of his truck.

We’ve had twenty-two people come in tonight to get out of the cold. Some didn’t have heat. Others didn’t feel safe at home alone. Regardless, it was nice to be able to provide them with whatever comfort they needed—even if it meant sacrificing our night off.

This is what the spirit of Christmas is all about, and I can’t imagine celebrating it for another year without Ben by my side.

It took five long hours for the power to come back on, and we’ve managed to get everyone home safely except for Mrs. Bauman, who seems content to stay right where she is, and Mr. Streiker, who is waiting for his son to come pick him up.

Brooke, Faye, Amelia, Drew, and Ethan left about an hour ago after helping us clean up.

“He’s pretty great, isn’t he?” Crystal says, pulling up a chair beside mine.

“Yeah, he is.”

“They just don’t make men like that anymore.”

I look at her and smile. “No, they don’t.”

“Either that or they’re all hiding from crazy women like me.”

“That could be it too.”

We both laugh and watch Ben move to check on Mr. Streiker.

“I know it’s not my place to give you advice since you’re my boss and all, but I’m going to go out on a limb anyway, if that’s okay.”

Uh-oh. I nod, unsure if I’m ready to hear what she has to say.

“Most people spend a lifetime trying to find someone to look at them the way Ben looks at you every time you walk into a room. I had that once, and I lost it. I’d give anything to get it back.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

Crystal shrugs and turns to face the room. “It was my own fault. But if I ever get it again, you can bet your sugar cookie I’m not letting it go. And you shouldn’t either. Stop wasting time. Go get your guy. And that’s all the sappiness I’ve got for one day. I’m outta here.”

She leaves without another word, and I watch Mr. Streiker move across the room and take a seat beside Mrs. Bauman. How the hell they’re still awake and functioning at almost—I glance at my watch—midnight is beyond me.

But there they are, laughing and talking with Ben.

Ben.

Crystal’s words play over in my head.

Stop wasting time.

Go get your guy.

I move around the bar and plug my phone into the stereo system, select my favorite Christmas song, and wait for it to start playing throughout the bar before walking across the room.

The upbeat tune of “All I Want for Christmas Is You” careens through the speakers.