That Easy and Other Short Stories ✔

Scared and a Little Tipsy

I stared out the large window and into the small sphere of green light far out in the ocean, recalling that when I was younger it always reminded me of The Great Gatsby. Now I realized that hope was just a load of crap.

"Still haven't touched any food?"

"Uh—no," I stammered, looking up at the bartender. Not a strand of his carefully combed brown hair was out of place. His bright smile and straight stature revealed he was much younger than any of the other waiters and waitresses who worked here. A few cute crinkles appeared around the edges of his blue eyes when he let out a small laugh.

"I won't serve you any more drinks until you do," he promised, clearing away the flat-rimmed glass of ice in front of me before disappearing somewhere into the booming restaurant.

Sighing, I eyed the goat cheese and fig flatbread he had brought out with my last drink. I picked up a slice and began to nibble on it, thinking back to the afternoon.

My parents and I had had a fight. I couldn't even remember what had started the uproar, or if the source of the quarrel could even be traced back to one stupid thing. But there was yelling and screaming. More yelling. More screaming. The sound of my father's fist slamming against our mahogany dining table. Then I escaped upstairs, slipped into my mom's closet, and stole a pair of her fitted black dress pants and merino wool sweater, also black. I thanked genetics for giving me the same long legs and too lanky figure as my mother; it made shopping in her closet easy. After digging out my dress flats from the back of my closet and applying some raspberry lipstick, I caught a bus downtown.

One martini and a highball later, here I was nibbling on fancy flatbread while my eyes glossed over the drink menu. The funny thing was I'd barely held a glass of wine in my entire life, yet here I was wasting my Christmas Eve night flipping through pages and pages of jargon. Shit, this place had a lot of options. After flipping back and forth through the laminated pages for a while, I finally decided on a gin and tonic. That sounded classy.

My fingers were just brushing against another slice of warm flatbread when the lighting in the restaurant dimmed. The noise in the room quieted to a gentle murmur and I heard the hostess behind me tell someone that restaurant seating was for reservations only but that there were a few seats left at the bar. Curious, I looked around and noticed a band setting up at the intersection between the bar and dining room. A saxophonist began playing gentle scales and was soon joined by a trumpet. Set up behind them was a tall pine tree, the warm white lights strung radially around the tree shining bright against the crisp pines in the subdued lighting. The band began playing familiar Christmas tunes, peaking most everyone's attention. About halfway through White Christmas, the noise level in the room began to rise as diners resumed their conversations.

Last year was different.

The toasty air was a welcome relief from the sharp outside air that had stung my face on the short walk over. As soon as I stepped inside, Steven closed the door behind me and pulled me into his arms.

"Hi Beautiful," he murmured into my hair.

"Hey," I whispered, stunned momentarily by Steven's familiar scent. He smelled like pine. Then, catching an unexpected whiff of almond, I pulled away, resting my palms on Steven's sweater-clad arms. "Have you been baking?"

Steven stepped back so my arms fell to my sides, then slipped a warm hand around mine. "Come see."

Together we followed the trail of sweet, luscious scents to the kitchen. The oval table was clothed in red and two place settings were set up opposite to each other, divided by a three-tiered stand. I let go of Steven's hand, stepping closer to inspect his surprise. The Christmas china he'd selected was beautiful, the plates and tea cups rimmed with intricate images of holly clippings and gold trim bordering the outer edges. The stand in the centre also supported three identical plates. Laid out neatly on the bottom tier were miniature sandwiches, on the middle were sweets, and the top plate held raisin scones and a cute dish of butter. There was exactly two of everything.