Chapter Seven

Before she began her server shift, Ally insisted that Jake call his mother and let her know she wouldn’t be home for dinner, and to make sure Peggy told Noel where she was so she wouldn’t worry. Jake introduced her to the crew and put her right to work. What Ally realized, which Jake had no way of knowing, was that she welcomed the diversion. Waiting tables at Charlie’s helped take her mind off the fears that were swirling around in her brain. It allowed her to forget about Tim and the wedding and all the “I wonder”s for a little while.

Ally found the little greasy spoon totally charming. She perused the framed photos along the wall by the front door. There were shots of a much younger Jake with a man who looked so much like him she assumed he had to be Charlie. There were photos of Charlie with Tina and Maddie and Peggy. Charlie was at the center of everything. Ally thought Charlie was handsome, with a big smile and kind eyes. I guess the good looks passed down to his son, she thought. Though he’d done nothing but rub her the wrong way from practically the moment she met him, Ally still had to admit Jake was fairly easy on the eyes.

“That your dad on the wall?” Ally asked Jake as he totaled up one of her customer’s bills and handed the slip to her.

“Yep. That’s Charlie,” he said. “He was quite a character.”

“You guys look alike,” she said. She noticed Jake’s eyes rest on hers for a moment, and she could tell he considered that a compliment.

“Thanks,” he said.

“I kinda dig this joint,” Ally said. “It’s got character.”

“That it does,” Jake said. Jake held up the bill, and Ally snatched it playfully from his fingers, then pointed to a spot just south of his Adam’s apple.

“You’ve got something there.” Jake fell for it, looked down, and she popped him on the chin with her finger. “Gotcha!” She laughed, and Jake shook his head.

“Real mature.”

“You’ve got to lighten up,” she said. “You’re so stiff. You know, you could use some yoga. Oh, wait. Almost forgot. You think yoga’s just new-age hooey.” Ally smiled as she turned away from him to the pickup window.

“I didn’t mean anything by that,” Jake said.

“It’s fine,” Ally said. “You were just speaking your mind. It’s cool.”

“You’re good,” Libby said as she sidled up beside Ally at the pickup window. “You haven’t missed an order yet. I’ve been listening.”

“Thanks,” Ally said. “I don’t know how you do this every day. I’ve been here a half hour, and I’m already spent.”

“Hell,” Libby said, “if it was like this every day, I’d be in the nut house.”

…

By seven, the diner was out of eggs, the meatloaf was totally gone by seven thirty, and the last bite of apple pie went into the mouth of an airplane passenger from Brooklyn named Eddie at seven fifty. Jake sent Robbie out to the store twice, and it seemed that, every few minutes, Louie would emerge from the kitchen and announce something like, “We’re down to our last five rolls!” or “No more pastrami!” Ally found the customers surprisingly cool with it all. They were laughing, singing along to the holiday tunes on the diner jukebox, in good spirits. They seemed to understand that Charlie’s was operating way beyond capacity.

Ally was surprised to find that, though the work was frenzied and exhausting, she actually had a good time. The locals were warm and welcoming, and the passengers always found it funny to be served by “one of their own.” She tried to remember what a restaurant manager had told her years ago, when she got her first job waiting tables.

“Ally, if you want to clean up on tips, then treat each table as if it was your only table.”

Ally remembered the sage advice and tried to act as if she wasn’t hurried at all and had all the time in the world, while still managing to get the orders quickly. She remembered to stop by and refill coffee cups and water glasses. She noticed when children spilled and was quick with a rag to wipe it up. She also noticed Jake noticing her. She’d catch him watching her. And, whenever she glanced in his direction, he’d quickly look away, like a bashful ten-year-old boy with a crush on his teacher. She found this both cute and endearing. Why hasn’t this guy been scooped up yet? she thought. Ally knew at least a half dozen girlfriends back in L.A. who would be on him in a minute, in more ways than one.

“Okay, that’s it.”

Libby locked the door ten seconds after the last customer strolled out at 9:37 p.m. Ally flopped into a booth with a “whew. Free at last.”

“All right,” Jake said. “I’m proud of all of you. You absorbed the rush and didn’t miss a beat.”

Louie emerged from the kitchen, holding a muffin in his hand. “I present to you the last muffin,” he said with a tired smile. He took a bite. “And it’s all mine.” Ally thought of her phone charging behind the counter. Suddenly, she slipped back to the troubled life where she was afraid of her own device. She looked at Jake. He had a tired smile on his face. Bet you thought I couldn’t roll up my sleeves and get dirty, she thought. Take that, country boy.

Jake peeled off his apron, plopped it on the counter, and looked at Ally. “Walk you back?”

…

Ally tossed her scarf for another loop around her neck. It had gotten quite a bit colder. Jake walked quietly beside her, looking dapper in his long camel coat, red-and-green Burberry scarf, and pricey Nappa leather gloves. She wondered how a small-town diner owner could afford such attire, as everything he had on was top-of-the-line winter wear. She again thought of her phone deep in her coat pocket. She hadn’t looked at it. She didn’t want to spoil her happy mood.

“We’ll take the scenic route,” he told her at the start of the walk from Charlie’s back to Peggy’s house. Ally wondered if maybe scenic also meant longer, as it seemed to be a roundabout way. She smiled at the thought Jake might be trying to buy more time with her.

She looked at the houses on either side of the street. They seemed to all be competing with Peggy for most Christmassy. “Are all the streets like this?” she asked.

“Oh no,” Jake said. “This is Candy Cane Lane. The gold standard for Christmas decorations.” Ally nodded. The walk reminded her a little of the scene in It’s a Wonderful Life where Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed strolled home after the Christmas dance.

“So,” Ally ventured, “you’ve been in Bethlehem all your life?”

“Well, I was born and raised here,” Jake said, “but I was away for several years.”

“Away where?”

“I went to college in Boston, and then worked in New York for a time.”

“Oh?” Ally said. Just when she thought she had the diner owner figured out, he’d thrown her a curveball. “Where’d you go to college?”

“Harvard,” Jake said. Ally was surprised he hadn’t let it slip before then. Most Harvard grads she knew found a way to let you know within two minutes of meeting them.

“I think I’ve heard of it,” Ally said with a smile. “And what’d you do in New York?”

“I wore a suit on Wall Street for a little while,” Jake said, “and then decided that wasn’t for me and ended up starting a business with my college roommate.”

“What kind of business?” Ally asked.

“Limousine company.”

“Oh, and how did that turn out?”

“Not bad,” Jake said. Ally realized she was going to have to fish for every tidbit of information with this guy.

“Well, what’s the company called? Maybe I’ve heard of it.”

“Gold Star Limousines.”

Ally stopped and looked at him. “The Gold Star Limos? That’s you?” Jake nodded. Ally now knew how he could afford his pricey wintry duds. “I remember reading about those guys…you guys. The article said it was one of the best companies to work for, that the employees were so well taken care of.”

“We tried,” Jake said.

“Wow,” Ally said. “Is it okay if I’m impressed now?”

Jake shrugged. “It’s just business.” But he had a small smile on his face as they continued walking.

“So?” Ally asked. “What happened with you and Gold Star?”

“Sold my interest when my dad got sick,” Jake said. “I came home to help out and ended up taking over the diner after he passed.”

“That’s quite a switch,” Ally said. “One day you’re running a successful company and the next you’re flipping burgers at a little diner in the middle of…” Ally stopped herself. She didn’t want to insult the town that had so generously welcomed her.

“Nowhere,” Jake finished. “I guess I realized that what I valued most was to be happy. And I’m happy here. The ache for home lives in all of us.”

Ally wrinkled her brow. “Maya Angelou, right?”

Jake nodded. “Very good.”

“Well, I don’t mean to be a New York snob,” Ally said, “but I don’t know how you could give all that up for this. No offense.”

“Guess it depends on what you value,” Jake said. “Truthfully, I couldn’t wait to get out of that city.”

Ally shot him a look. Did he just diss me? she thought. “People in New York have values, too,” she said. “Small-town folks don’t have a corner on them.”

Jake smiled. “Didn’t mean to pass judgment. Just not my cup of tea.”

Not your cup of tea? Ally thought. Who says that anymore? And we’re talking New York City here.

“Well, I think New York’s a pretty damn fine cup of tea,” Ally said. “But to each his own, I guess. As long as we’re dealing in clichés.” Jake smiled. “And what about love?” she asked. “Why is a relatively charming guy like you not pushing around a baby carriage?” Jake stopped and laughed. “What?” Ally asked. “Too personal?”

“A little,” Jake said.

Ally winked at him. “Sorry. That’s the yogi in me.” Ally looked and realized they were standing outside Peggy’s gate. “Oh. We’re back.” Jake nodded. She held out her hand. “Thank you. I had fun.”

“Me, too,” Jake said. He took her hand. Even though they were both wearing gloves, Ally found she enjoyed the feel of his touch. A warm rush flowed through her. Is he going to kiss me? she thought. But then, What are you thinking, Henderson? You barely know the guy. And you’re engaged…officially, anyway.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Ally said. “Baby carriage?”

Jake took a moment. “I had planned on kids at one time, but…plans changed.”

“Okay,” Ally said. She could tell by his body language that it was best not to push the subject.

“What about you?” Jake asked. “Where’s your bassinet?”

Ally looked at him for a moment, and then, without warning, a wellspring of bottled-up emotion bubbled to the service. Ally felt her eyes redden, and her lower lip started to quiver. She wanted to hide her face from this kind man she barely knew, but then the tears started to roll, and she watched his face turn from curiosity to concern.

“Ally, are you okay?” Jake asked.

The sound of him saying her name only made Ally cry more. She wiped away the tears from her cheeks with her gloved hands, but there were plenty more where they came from. It wasn’t until that moment, standing in front of a man who fifteen hours earlier she didn’t even know existed, that she realized that, despite what she’d agreed to, despite what she’d told Tim, she really wanted a family. She wanted a baby and another baby, and poopy diapers and baby throw-up and two a.m. feedings. She wanted the whole shit show. I want to be a mommy, dammit, Ally thought. And I’m not ashamed to admit it.

Ally looked at Jake and almost laughed. She was falling apart, right there by Peggy’s front gate, the glimmering holiday lights framing her in a weepy Christmas card. The pain and frustration and fear of her strange and bizarre day were finally bubbling like emotional lava to the surface. Jake put a hand on Ally’s arm. She stepped back. Keep it together, she commanded herself. Yes, she needed a hug, but she didn’t want to send the wrong message.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jake said soothingly. “Whatever it is, it’s going to be all right.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Ally said. She wiped a stray tear from her cheek with her Isotoner leather glove. “I’m just tired.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Jake asked.

No, I don’t want to talk about it, Ally thought. There’s nothing you can do. She wondered what her puffy, tear-stained face must look like. She figured if he’d ever had any attraction toward her, it was no doubt long gone now. “Okay,” she said in a soft voice. “Can we go inside? I’m freezing my ass off out here.” Jake nodded. As they went through the gate and up the walk, Ally saw Noel watching from the bedroom window.

…

“I’m going through a little bit of a crisis,” Ally said. Peggy put a box of tissues on the kitchen table beside her. Ally looked up from her chair and smiled at the kindly lady. Peggy hadn’t said much when they came in. She’d simply informed them that Noel had gone to bed, and that she had dinner waiting in the kitchen.

“I know you both must be starving after your big night at the diner,” she said. Peggy had heard all about it from Tina, who’d dropped by Charlie’s to pick up a beanie Maddie had left hanging on the coatrack and then ended up staying to help for a few minutes.

Ally was in fact starving. She realized how little she’d eaten all day, but hadn’t noticed until then because of all the stress and uncertainty and diner busyness. Peggy put a plate of salmon patties, green bean casserole, au gratin potatoes, and rolls in front of her son. She did the same for Ally, minus the patties. Then, rather than linger with them, she excused herself and headed off to bed, assuring Ally that “If you need anything at all during the night, don’t hesitate to wake me.”

“Thanks so much,” Ally said, “for everything.” Jake waited until he could hear his mother’s slippers padding upstairs, then looked across the table at Ally.

“Crisis?” he asked.

Ally nodded and took a bite of roll. “I haven’t heard from my fiancé Tim in now over…” She checked the oven clock for the time. “Fifteen hours.”

“Oh,” Jake said. He hesitated for a moment, as if he didn’t want to say the wrong thing. “You think something happened to him?”

“I don’t know,” Ally said. “I have this strange feeling that he’s perfectly fine, that it has nothing to do with his health.”

“So, what do you think it is?” Jake said. Ally’s phone rang. She stopped, checked it. It was Devyn.

“Sorry,” she said. “I have to take this.” Jake started to push back from the table to give her privacy. “Oh no,” Ally said. “It’s fine.” Ally clicked the green button on her iPhone. “Devyn?” Ally was anxious for news, any news, but scared to death as to what that news might be.

“Hey, Ally,” Devyn said. Ally could tell something was up. Devyn sounded guarded. She’d never heard that tone from her before. She looked across at Jake. He was watching her with a curious expression on his face.

“Devyn, just tell me,” Ally said.

“I got the locksmith to open Tim’s office, and there’s nothing in there. I mean, there’s his chair and desk and stuff, but nothing else.”

“Nothing?” Ally said. “I’m going to need you to define ‘nothing’ for me.”

“His computer’s gone, the desk drawers are empty, his desk is totally cleaned off. It’s pretty much vacated. Oh, there’s a photo of you two on the cabinet. But that’s about it.” Ally took a moment to let what Devyn was saying sink in. She looked back at Jake as he took a bite of salmon.

“Okay, Devyn, thanks. Can you call the bank? I want to make sure everything’s okay there.” There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Devyn? The bank?”

“I just did,” Devyn said.

“And?”

“I’m afraid it’s not good.”

Ally felt like she could barely catch her breath. Her heart was pounding so hard and fast. “What’s not good about it?”

“The account has been cleaned out.”