Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
The skies above Brooklyn seemed to know it was finally the first of December. They’d decided it was time to give it their all, snow-wise. A thick blanket of white covered everything, and the snow showed no signs of letting up.
The café was slammed all day long. People rushed to do their Christmas shopping when the weather and the calendar conspired to remind them. It was a day of mucky wet floors and patrons with overwhelming numbers of shopping bags. When Allie went out front to shovel the sidewalk, she looked back through the windows at Ren and Mindy smiling and laughing with customers, every table full, the windows fogging up with the breath and warmth of the inside. She took a moment to appreciate it. To love it from outside.
It reminded her of the day she’d arrived at the café. That day had also been snowy, though at that time, the weather felt oppressive and foreboding, not joyful. She’d seen Mindy from the outside that day, too, and she could still remember the relief that coursed through her. At that time in her life, Mindy was the last person she had in the world who knew her and loved her. Seeing her steady, caring, no-nonsense aunt through the window as she arrived, unannounced, at the café, was the only thing that gave her even a shred of hope. She’d pushed through the café door, and when Mindy saw her there, eyes red from crying, suitcase in hand, everything felt instantly understood. She’d moved, rent-free, into the apartment above the café that night. Mindy had stayed up until 2 a.m. with her, getting the place into a livable condition. They’d barely talked, but Allie knew she was welcome and safe. She’d never left.
Now, with her shift over and the action of the day starting to wind down, she’d left Ren capably serving those evening customers who’d trickled in for hot chocolate or tea, and was comfortably ensconced in her own bed upstairs. Her apartment was always slightly colder than she wanted it, no matter how much she cranked the ancient radiators, but she was fine under blankets with her guitar in her lap.
She started strumming some chords, and it took her a few minutes to realize that she was playing a new song. Words started to come to her, and she scrambled for a notebook and pen to write them down.
She emerged from a creative fog half an hour later having written an actual song. Not someone else’s song. Her own song. Lyrics about cassette tapes and road trips and the joys of being beside someone as a car moves along a highway, headed for something unknown.
She was just about to move over to her computer to record a rough version of the song when a snowball hit the middle of her window. It wasn’t a hard smack, but it still seemed deliberate. She put her guitar down and went to the window, pulling a wool cardigan on over her pajamas as she went.
“Allie!”
Ryan was standing in the busy street, looking up at her, waving frantically. He wore a black knit cap pulled down over his ears and a rugged golden-brown coat with wide pockets and a corduroy collar. Beside him, easily a foot shorter than his six-foot-four frame, was a Christmas tree.
“I got you something!”
“I can’t imagine what it could be!” She cranked open the window and leaned out to get a better look. The traffic light changed, and the street emptied of cars and trucks, providing a sudden moment of quiet. The snow was still coming down. Ryan’s eyelashes and beard were caked with it.
“Can I bring it in the kitchen way?” He pointed up the alley toward the back of the café.
“Yes. I’ll meet you there.”
Allie moved back into her apartment and looked down at her rumpled pajamas with a tinge of regret. She hadn’t planned for guests. Especially not handsome, snowy guests bearing trees.
Ren was letting Ryan in through the back door when Allie arrived in the kitchen. He stomped the caked snow from his boots onto the doormat, gripping the pointed top of the Christmas tree to keep it straight. It looked larger up close.
“Hey.” Ryan’s cheeks were flushed from the cold, and the snowflakes in his beard were quickly melting to droplets.
“Hey.” She grinned back, fiddling with the buttons of her cardigan.
“So, how tall are the ceilings in your apartment?”
“Uh…” Allie had no idea. “About as tall as you, I guess, judging from how many times you’ve smashed your head.”
“Right. Great.” Ryan looked critically at the very top branch of the tree, which was level with his chin. “We should be good, then.”
“Wait, is it for me? Not the café?”
“It’s for you.” He looked just as cheerful as usual, albeit slightly damp, and Allie fought the urge to place her warm hand on his cool skin.
Ren held open the door for Allie and Ryan as they carried the tree up to the apartment.
“You don’t happen to have a tree stand, do you?” Ryan asked, as they set the tree on its side on the carpet.
“We must have one downstairs in the supply closet. We’ve had trees in the past that we put up in the café.”
She left Ryan to doff his winter gear as she hustled down the creaking staircase to the supply closet. Sure enough, in a box marked Christmas Is Over, Ren, Put It Away she found the tree stand. She also nicked a string of white lights and some tinsel that were tucked away neatly with all of their other decorations, which hadn’t been touched yet this year. Ren wasn’t allowed to decorate until December, and the café had just been too busy to allow them time to do it.
Upstairs, Ryan was looking less like an arctic adventurer and more like a podcast tech. His coat and hat were hung neatly by the door, and he’d left his wet boots on the landing.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t even ask if you wanted a tree. Do you want a tree? I’m fine if you don’t. I can take it home with me instead. I just thought when I was here the other day that your apartment has that perfect corner by the window and how cool would it be to look up from the street on your way home and see a tree up there—”
“Ryan.” Allie placed her hand on his arm to stop his nervous chatter. “I want the tree. Thank you for the tree. It smells fantastic.”
She placed the stand under the window, and they carefully angled the fragrant tree into place, with Ryan holding it steady as she turned the screws of the stand until it was secure. When they were sure it was straight and steady, she wrapped a plaid wool blanket around the bottom of the trunk and wound the white lights around the branches. Ryan draped strands of tinsel while Allie searched for an extension cord so she could plug in the lights.
With the tree finally illuminated and minimally decorated, they stepped back and admired it. Ryan sat back on her bed, and Allie sat beside him, consciously leaving an appropriately friendly distance between them. She could not deal with the emotional roller coaster of another almost-kiss.
“It’s a good one.” She stared at the tree. “And you’re right about how nice it will be to see it from the window when I’m coming home. I should steal more decorations from our box downstairs.”
“Oh!” Ryan stood up suddenly. “I forgot!” He stepped toward the door, where his jacket hung, and reached into one of the front pockets. He pulled out a handful of small ornaments made from felt and string. “This is how they getcha, selling ornaments at the same spot as they sell trees. You know that lady who parks the little Airstream trailer and sells the trees in that alley off of Franklin? Anyway, turns out she also makes these things. She has a ton of them! I got all the music ones.”
Ryan tossed them at her, one by one. A guitar, a drum, a page of sheet music with “Silent Night” embroidered at the top. A xylophone. She held that one extra tight in her hand.
Ryan was still rummaging through his pockets. “I can’t find the best one. Hang on!” He dug one hand into each jacket pocket, feeling around frantically. “Oh yeah!” He stopped and reached into the smaller chest pocket. “I put it up there for safekeeping.” He pulled out the last ornament and held it out to Allie. It was a tiny cassette tape.
“Oh, that’s perfect.” She stood up and took it from him, admiring the detail. On the label of the cassette, the words Christmas Mix were embroidered with tiny, perfect stitches.
“Okay, listen.” Ryan hung the last of the ornaments on the tree. “I’m not here merely as an urban forester. I came to invite you to our holiday party. We do it every year. Everyone we know comes over, and there’s drinks and food and a lot of embarrassing dancing.”
“Oh! That sounds fun!” Allie grinned at him. She was clearly evolving into a new person if the thought of a party didn’t make her want to hide under her bed. “When is it?”
“A week from Saturday. You don’t need to bring anything. Tell Mindy and Ren they’re invited as well. Though I imagine Anisha has already told Ren, if they’ve taken their mouths off each other long enough to speak an entire sentence.”
Allie laughed. “Mindy won’t come. She religiously goes to bed early in December because the café is bonkers busy every day.”
“That’s fair. At least you’ll be there. I’m excited for you to meet some more of my workmates.”
Allie worked hard not to think about meeting Intern Sheila and instead picked up her guitar and started strumming, then began picking out the melody of the song she’d written earlier.
Ryan turned his head to watch her play. When she let the music trail off, he spoke. “What was that? It didn’t sound familiar.”
“Oh, it’s nothing.” She put the guitar down beside her.
“By nothing you mean…something original that you wrote?”
“Yes.” Allie smiled into her lap. “That is what I mean.”
“Damn!” Ryan sat up. “Can I hear it?”
Allie hesitated. The song’s lyrics weren’t explicitly about Ryan. But she had to admit that the feeling of the song was the feeling she had for him. The slight regret of a connection that would not go as far as she’d originally thought. Deciding that there was no way he’d recognize himself in a nebulous lyrical theme, she picked up her guitar. “Sure.”
She played the song once through, trying not to look at Ryan while she did it. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that he was staring at her. When she finished, she resisted the urge to immediately tell him everything she wanted to change about it.
“That was amazing.” Ryan’s words finally drew her eyes to him. “I mean it. I knew you could write, obviously, and I knew you could play, but I didn’t know you could write songs like that .”
“What do you mean?” Allie tried to rein in her excitement. “Songs like what?”
“That was a classic songwriter song.” Ryan sat up straight, warming to his topic. “That was a song that you could play by yourself on an acoustic guitar or play with a full band, and it would be just as great either way. It’s a song that you could sell to a country singer or just keep playing at open mics in Brooklyn. Allie, you’re so damn talented.”
Allie didn’t know what to say. She knew that she was good at what she did. She’d just been scared that no one else would care when she wasn’t with Jessi and the rest of the band, with their great onstage chemistry.
“Have you thought about being in a band again? About touring? Even playing just by yourself anywhere?”
Allie nodded, hesitant. “I do think about it. A lot, actually. But now I’ve got the potential to take over the café, and I’m running out of reasons not to accept Mindy’s offer. I know I could still play music if I did that, of course. But I couldn’t have music as my career. Or even as a significant portion of my career.”
“You couldn’t prioritize it.” Ryan clarified.
“Right. Exactly.”
“Is that the biggest thing holding you back from taking the café?”
“Yeah. I love the café. I love working with Ren. I want Ren to feel safe in their job and not have to start over somewhere new. I want George to be able to see friendly faces every day, and I want the Thanksgiving dinner to still happen for all the people who love it.”
“What do you want for yourself, though?” Ryan was looking at her steadily, his brown eyes locked to hers.
Allie sighed. “Mindy does a lot of spreadsheets. I don’t want to do spreadsheets.”
“Spreadsheets?”
“Yeah. I mean, I don’t know what I want out of the rest of my life, but I know that I don’t want it to include more spreadsheets.”
“Well, I get that. I had to fill out a purchasing form for a new piece of studio equipment the other day, and it damn near made me want to die.”
Allie smiled at him. “See? You get it.”
The lights from the Christmas tree were casting a soft glow on his face. They sat together quietly, looking at the tree. She wanted him to stay longer, so she offered him a cup of tea, then retrieved two cups from the kitchen downstairs, ignoring Ren’s salacious smirk.
When she arrived with the tea, he was hovering over the crate of her father’s old tapes.
“I wanted to put one of these on, but I didn’t want to do it without asking you first.”
Her heart swelled. “Yeah, absolutely. Go ahead. I know you’re careful.”
He pulled a Paula Abdul cassette from the crate and held it up, raising his eyebrows.
“Compelling choice,” Allie said. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for an Abdul fan.”
“I had a major crush on her during her American Idol years. Used to watch it at a friend’s house because it was too secular for my parents’ taste.”
They listened to both sides of the cassette, chatting idly about nothing in particular. Allie pulled a pillow off her bed and lay on the floor with her head propped up high enough to look into his eyes. He leaned against her bed. It was wild to her that she could feel this comfortable around someone who had been an annoying stranger just a couple of months ago. They talked long after the cassette finished, and Allie felt a rush of disappointment when he stood up and said it was time for him to go. She hugged him tightly before he left and watched out the window as he disappeared into the dark and snowy streets, imagining an alternate reality where he was her boyfriend and he stayed all night.
She wondered, looking at the warmly lit tree he’d brought her, whether he ever thought about it, too.