Brad’s hand was warm against her back as he and Sage followed the hostess to a table in the rear of Archie’s, one of Cherry Lake’s top dining spots. They’d closed up the church after the day’s wrapping and were sharing a celebratory dinner together. The large group of volunteers had made short work of the first batch of gifts.
Sage tried not to stare or look like a gawking hick as they made their way past other tables. She wasn’t a stranger to a nice restaurant, but she wasn’t expecting Archie’s to be so fancy. The lighting was low, quiet chatter rippled through the room.
Discrete sound baffles hung from the ceiling to dull the noise and keep conversations private. Candles in hurricane lamps lit each table. The tablecloths and napkins a pale celery green. Simple pastoral scenes decorated the brick walls creating an upscale relaxed but intimate atmosphere. She almost balked at the romanticism of it all.
“You folks are lucky. Tonight marks the launch of Archie’s Christmas menu. This week’s featured countries are Thailand, the Ukraine, Mexico, and Canada.”
“Sounds interesting,” Brad said. “What does that entail?”
“You can choose a traditional Christmas meal for any of those countries, or select individual dishes from their menus. Next week, we are featuring four different countries.”
“That’s fabulous. I can’t wait to see what the dishes are,” Sage declared.
“There are also a steak and chicken specials for the less adventurous. Your server will be right with you. Enjoy your meal.” She handed them single sheet paper menus.
“This is lovely.” Sage continued her subtle study of the restaurant.
“I haven’t been here before. It’s more intimate than I expected. I apologize for that,” Brad said.
Her brain reeled. Did that mean he didn’t consider this a date? Or that he did but maybe too much intimacy too soon? She thought it was a casual dinner between two coworkers, but part of her heart whispered date, and a soft warm glow wrapped her body and heart.
“Don’t fret. I’ve heard good things, great things, about the food here. I’ve been wanting to come for ages. Funny that nobody mentioned it was so romantic.”
“We don’t have to stay if you’re uncomfortable.”
“Can I ask a question?” She didn’t wait for his answer. “Is this just two coworkers getting together, are we friends, or is this a date?” She hoped the dim lighting hid the heat flushing her face.
“Honestly? I’m not sure I know. We are coworkers, co-volunteers. I’d like to think we’re becoming friends. But in truth, part of me hopes this is a date. I like you, Sage. You’re a beautiful intriguing woman who I’d like to get to know better.” He paused. “But, if that makes you uncomfortable, this can be whatever works for you. I don’t want to come on too strong or seem like a creep.” His smile was soft and reassuring.
“I appreciate the honesty. Can we just let this be whatever it is without a label?” She winced internally at the wimpy question. Especially since part of her wanted to slid closer and wrap her arms around him and test the softness of his hair. Maybe kiss him.
He tilted his head left and winked with his right eye. “Sure thing, kiddo. I’m good with that.”
“Kiddo? You do realize that I’m thirty-seven, right?”
“Really? I never would have guessed that. You’ve got such a young air about you. Youthful confidence. Of course, since you’re a year older than I am, I might have to start calling you Granny.”
She couldn’t stop her laugh. “Maybe I’ll call you Kiddo, or Baby-faced Brad.” A comfortable sense of camaraderie mixed with a spine-tingling anticipation filled her. Like that fraction of a second when she was perched at the top of a rollercoaster waiting for the exhilarating fall and double-loop. Terrifying in a safe way.
“Do not call me Baby-faced Brad in front of the guys,” he warned with a mock scowl.
“Sure thing, B.F.B.”
Their server arrived to take their drink orders. Brad ordered a bottle of wine.
“Oh, that’s my favorite white,” she said.
“I’ll remember that. Have you decided what you’d like for dinner?” Brad asked.
“I haven’t even looked at the menu. You’ve been distracting me.” She picked up the sheet and started rereading the selections.
“You find me distracting? Good to know,” he teased.
Her pulse raced. There was something special about a man who could give and take with jokes and silly comments. Knowing he was interested in her was, to use an old word, titillating.
“I think I’ll have the combination from Thailand,” Brad said. “I’ve never tried any of the dishes.”
“I am absolutely starved, I missed lunch, so I think I’ll have the Thai Mango sticky rice hot and sour soup; the Mexican tamale and the Bacalao which is dried, salted codfish. Definitely some Ukrainian perogies and a cabbage roll. Then maybe some turkey with gravy and finally, some gold old pumpkin pie.
“That’s one heck of a combination. It’s going to give you an upset stomach.”
“Nothing gives me an upset stomach. Not even cherry cheesecake and orange Crush.” She laughed when he winced at the combination. “What can I say? I was on a road trip with my folks and it sounded good. I’ll try anything once.”
“I’ll remember that,” he teased.
After they ordered, she asked the question that had burned in her mind since they hooked up for the toy drive. “What’s your favorite Christmas memory? Do you have one?”
“I do. Tell me yours first,” he said.
“That’s easy. I remember when I was a kid. Maybe ten. My grampa was away. He served in the Canadian Army. He was due to retire but was involved in Kuwait. Just before the holidays, Nanna got a call saying he was missing. The next ten days were the worst of my life. Bar none. Grampa was my hero. I couldn’t bear losing him.”
He reached out and squeezed her hand. The simple touch was comforting. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thanks. We worried for two weeks, and when you’re ten and your favorite grandfather is missing, time creeps by so slowly. On Christmas Eve, Gramma got another call. It was him! He’d been rescued the day before. He was wounded, but not seriously. By Boxing Day, he was home with us. Only for a few days, but it was the best four days of my life. What started out as the worst Christmas became the best one. Ever.”
She’d never forget the devastating sense of loss when the bad news came in. Nor would she forget the incredible relief when he was found. When he showed up at home with a broken collar bone, a dislocated and reset shoulder, and two black eyes. It had scarred and scared her. “I didn’t know much about marriage back then, but I made a vow never to get involved with a man in a dangerous job. Watching my grandmother’s stress and feeling her own terror was too much to live through again.”
She studied Brad. He was such a great guy. Almost perfect. Except his job. She’d keep their relationship casual. No romance. She ignored the little devil on her shoulder that said a bit of danger wasn’t always a bad thing.
Brad didn’t comment on her youthful vow, but his brows did pinch together and he released the hand he’d been holding and straightened up.
“Now, tell me your story,” she said, hoping that listening to Brad would make it harder to hear the little voice in her ear whispering for her to take a chance on him despite the hazardous nature of his job.
“It’s funny. Your best Christmas was also your worst. Mine too.” His eyes got a soft look. “I was nine and fascinated by science. All I wanted was the chemistry set that Billy Peters got for his birthday. He did some great things with that set. He mixed reagents and things frothed and foamed, or changed colors. He managed to set some stuff on fire, quite by accident.” His voice was wistful. “Man, I wanted that set.”
“Did you get it?”
“I woke up extra early Christmas morning. Nobody else was awake. I snuck downstairs to see if Santa had arrived. Of course, he had. There was a shining brand-new bike and a couple of big packages under the tree. I’m an only child; I knew they were all for me. Well, one or two might be for my parents.” He chuckled. “But I couldn’t wait to dive in.”
“I snuck back upstairs because I wasn’t supposed to peek. I went to the washroom, and flushed the toilet. Mom slept like a rock; she could sleep through a hurricane. Dad was a light sleeper and the slightest sound would wake him up. I swear he was always more excited about Christmas than I was. I knew the toilet would wake him, and he’d wake Mom, and I wouldn’t get into trouble.”
“I remember those days. When nothing beat the anticipation of unopened gifts.”
“Those were the days.”
His fond smile was so handsome she reached out and grasped his hand. “What happened?”
“We opened all the gifts, except one. It was too big to be the chemistry set. Before Christmas, Dad had warned me that Mom wouldn’t like the idea of a chemistry set, but I ignored him and hoped anyway. Seeing that last box and knowing it wasn’t my dream gift, I was devastated, but pretended I wasn’t. They weren’t fooled. Dad convinced me to open the last gift. I did, just so I could go back to bed and sulk.”
“Bit of a brat, were you?”
“Totally spoiled in all ways. I was a late baby and Mom catered to my every whim. Except the chemistry set.” He laughed at himself. “Anyway, the box was about three feet long, eighteen inches wide, and four inches high. The gift inside changed my life.” He leaned back and sipped his water.
“You can’t stop there. Tell me what it was.”
“Maybe on our next date. If you’re good.”
“To quote your comment the other day, “I’m very good”.” She managed not to blush. “Tell me what it was. What could possibly change your life?”
“Okay. I peeled back the paper. Slowly so I didn’t rip it.”
“You did not!”
“I ripped it open in a childish pout. Under the wrap was a plain, unmarked cardboard box.”
“Brad,” she warned.
“I flipped it open. Inside was a bow and six arrows. Not a toy. The real deal. An actual compound bow. At the time, I wasn’t thrilled. But once Dad took me to the indoor archery range, I loved it. I lived with that thing. I took classes and private lessons. I joined a team and entered competitions. I was good. My first instructor said I was a natural. I’m not sure if it’s true of not, but I won a lot of competitions. Once, I even managed the classic Robin Hood move of shooting one arrow right into the center of the other. I was provincial champ in seven age groups over the years. In grade twelve, I took third at nationals.” His voice wasn’t prideful, it was chill, like he was simply stating facts.
“You must have been so proud.”
“I was. I still am. That unwanted gift gave me drive and determination. In the end it was much more valuable than a chemistry set.”
She laughed.
“And that’s how my worst Christmas ended up being my best. I’m not saying I didn’t light things on fire, or burn up a few things, or make toxic chemical combinations, what teenage boy doesn’t?”
“Ever get caught or arrested for those things?” She asked.
“Caught, more than once. Thankfully, I was never arrested. How about you?”
“Not arrested, but I was hauled into the police station once when my brother and I got caught egging a neighbor’s house. Scariest day of my life. It was Halloween, and Mom threatened to cancel Christmas.” She shuddered. “Sometimes my mom who is the kindest person on earth…well sometimes she has a mean streak. Your mom must have been terrified of you burning something.”
A crazy idea hit her. “Is that why you became a firefighter? Because you’re secretly a pyromaniac?”
“My final coach was also a fireman. I wanted to be exactly like him. Community minded, helpful, kind. I followed in his footsteps and joined up at nineteen. What led you to being a receptionist.”
“Medical assistant, actually. My path was similar to yours. My aunt was my favorite person, after my grandfather. She was a hospital unit clerk. She took me to work on Bring Your Daughter to Work Day. I found it fascinating. Dealing with the other staff and helping out struck a chord with me and my life path was set.”
“Do you like it?”
“I love it. I’m useful. I get to work with people. On rare occasions, I get to assist the doctor. I get to cuddle babies and help pregnant moms. It’s fabulous. Well, except when the odd person loses their lunch in the waiting room.” She mock gagged.
“Do not talk about that before dinner. The result might not be great.”
The rest of their dinner conversation was casual and friendly. They both loved movies from the seventies to the nineties. Cozy mysteries were a shared interest. She loved Star Wars; he preferred Star Trek. Neither of them were big fans of romantic comedy movies, though she watch the occasional one with Renna.
Back outside, the sky was clear, the temperature bone chilling.
“Yikes. It’s freezing.”
“Good thing I remote started my truck. She should be warm by now.” He grasped her arm and helped her navigate the sidewalk. Most of it was clear but the odd patch shone like it might be icy.
The climbed in. “Oh, this is so nice.” She held her hands in front of the blasting heater.
“It’s still early,” he said. “Did you want to grab a coffee? I know a great place to sit and watch the night sky.”
“If it’s okay, I’d rather just go home and sit by the fireplace. Would you like to join me?” Dinner tumbled about in her stomach like butterflies in the wind. She was unaccountably nervous for his answer. She’d already decided they’d never be more than friends…but a tiny romantic part of her was screaming for more.
“That sounds nice.”
The short drive home lasted an eternity and flew by in an instant. She was giddy with excitement and stunned silly with trepidation. What was wrong with her? She was a competent, confident woman. She’d dated before.
This wasn’t dating.
Right! She’d forgotten that part. This was friendship. Nothing more.
Her nerves danced as they climbed the stairs to her second-floor apartment. What would he think of her home? What if she wanted to kiss him?