Chapter 4
FOUR
Burk
With my hands shoved in the pockets of my coat, I slowly make my way toward the downtown square. There are people everywhere, up and down the sidewalks and snow-covered park. The entire place is lit up with white Christmas lights, while holiday music is piped through speakers throughout the area.
I wait with about a dozen other townspeople for the crosswalk signal to change, granting us permission to move to the other side of the street.
As soon as it changes, we all start to walk.
When we reach the other side, most head to what I assume is the hot cocoa stand.
That’s where it always was when I was growing up and attending this festival, and that was usually our first stop too.
I head in the opposite direction though, just so I don’t get too caught up in the masses. Walking toward the pavilion where the pageant will be held, I take in the faces around me. Some look vaguely familiar, but many I don’t recognize at all. It causes another wave of sadness to wash through me.
Today, at work, I reconnected with a few people I knew from my time here.
Mrs. Englewood, my old third grade teacher, and her husband came out to get a tree.
It was nice catching up with them for a bit while we searched for their perfect tree and I cut it down.
It was weird taking their offered tip after I loaded it up into their pickup truck, but no amount of refusing would deter them.
I took their ten-dollar tip and shoved it in my pocket before sending them on their way.
The carnival rides won’t run until tomorrow night, as to not take away from the main stage entertainment: the pageant.
I remember riding those things for hours and hours, from the moment they opened until the last spin they took at the end of the night.
Joy was always there with her sister, enjoying the rides all weekend long.
I spot the ice-skating rink too, and again, my thoughts are consumed with memories of Joy.
If she wasn’t on the rides, she was skating.
I went with her often, but I was never as good as she was.
It was amazing I could stay standing and continually moving in the same circle as the rest of the skaters.
I was athletic, sure, but there’s definitely an art to ice skating.
My eyes move toward the bakery, all on their own, and I’m surprised to see it lit up.
In fact, there appears to be a line out the door, so that’s where I head.
While everyone else is grabbing their sweet treats and drinks from the stand manned by the local church youth group, I walk to where Joy is, a little too much spring in my step.
I can’t help it. Adult Joy is fucking gorgeous.
She definitely grew up in all the right places. Her hips are a little curvy and her tits the perfect handful. At least for my hands.
I should most certainly not be thinking about her this way, but I’m human.
And a guy. And she’s checking some of my boxes where females are concerned.
Maybe it’s the fact I haven’t dated much in recent years.
My last girlfriend was Sharon, who was practically picking out wedding china by our second month together.
She would text me ads for rings and venues, and I had to have the awkward conversation that I just wasn’t ready for that.
She swore she wasn’t either but loved to browse for “someday.” Yet proved me wrong when I got a call from a minister of a church, who informed me he had a date open up three weeks from that day and asked if I’d like to book it.
Fuck. No.
She didn’t make it easy to break up either.
She insisted I was overreacting, that she wasn’t actively planning the nuptials I wasn’t ready for, and for weeks, would show up at my workshop and house unannounced and uninvited.
Once, when my friend Drew was over, she barged in, accusing me of cheating on her.
The only thing she managed to do was interrupt the basketball game we were watching and have a restraining order slapped against her.
Turns out, it wasn’t her first.
I was a bit more hesitant over who I started talking to in a bar after that. Who would blame me?
Not all the women from my past were like Sharon, however.
I dated a girl for almost two years in my early twenties, and things were really great.
I thought she might be the one. We had a lot in common, and she didn’t mind if I’d lock myself in my workshop for hours on end and barely come out to sleep or eat.
But at the end of the day, there was one major difference we couldn’t quite get on the same page about.
I wanted kids eventually, but she did not.
Last I heard, she was happily married with four dogs and a cat.
When I reach The Sweet Escape, the line is just inside the door, and even though I’m pretty sure I recognize the woman in front of me as the owner of the small grocery store here in town, I don’t say anything.
Instead, I watch the woman behind the counter as she rings up the customer at the front of the line.
Joy laughs and smiles, seems genuinely happy to serve each and every customer who approaches the counter.
I recognize Krista behind her, mostly from the fiery red hair.
You can tell they’ve worked together plenty in the past and have a routine.
Krista works on making drinks, while Joy grabs the treats and works the register.
As I approach the front of the line, I notice the signage about the limited menu. She’s offering two drink options and two treats, and I’m sure that’s for simplicity purposes and to not compete with the hot cocoa stand in the square.
When the couple in front of me reaches the counter, that’s when Joy notices me over their shoulders.
She hesitates for a brief second but then smiles as she turns her attention to the payment system.
I follow her every move as she hollers out the drink orders to Krista and then retrieves two cake pops from the display.
She steals glances my way as she completes her task, and just as I take a step up to the counter, Krista turns around, her eyes widening with surprise.
“Holy crap, Burk?” she squeals, running around the counter and giving me a huge hug.
“Hey, Krista. How are you?” I ask, returning the gesture.
“I’m great, thanks.” She gives me a quick once-over and hits me square in the middle of the chest. “Dang, you grew up well, Mr. Whitman.”
I snort a laugh. “Well, thank you, ma’am.” I pretend to tip my hat.
Krista looks over her shoulder and grins widely at her friend. “Hmm, look who’s here, Joy. It’s Burk.” She draws out my name, enunciating it and popping the K.
Joy narrows her eyes at her friend and blushes. Something tells me there’s an inside joke I’m not privy to. “I see him,” Joy replies with a deadpan voice.
Krista hits me on the arm playfully. “What can we get you?”
I glance over at the menu for tonight and request, “Well, I’ve never been a huge fan of gingerbread—”
“But you’ve never had Joy’s gingerbread,” Krista states, moving behind the counter once more and starting to make a drink.
“If you want the other drink, that’s fine. Don’t let her bully you into something you don’t want,” Joy says, embarrassment lighting her face.
“Well, Krista cut me off, but I was about to say practically the same thing. I’ll have a gingerbread latte and one of the cake pops, please.” I pull cash from my wallet, and thankfully, this time, she quickly rings it up.
“Seven dollars, please.”
As she grabs one of the cake pops and slips it inside a small bag, I pull a ten out and set it on the counter.
“What are your plans for this evening, Burk?” Krista asks, finishing up my warm drink.
“I thought I’d try to catch some of the pageant,” I tell her.
“Us too! Joy closes at six forty-five so we can join her family under the big oak tree. You should come too!” Krista states, the glint in her eyes letting me know she’s up to something.
I flash her an easy smile. “I don’t want to interrupt family time.”
“You’re not!” Krista declares, completely ignoring her best friend.
Joy looks a little mortified, and I can’t help but feel like an imposition. “We’ll see,” I finally state, hoping to appease both women without making anyone uncomfortable. Just because Joy mentioned us catching up doesn’t mean she wants to do it tonight.
The air feels thick as I take my change from Joy and slip it into the tip jar. There’s a line a mile long behind me, and it’s nearing her closing time. She doesn’t have time to entertain me, so I step to the side to wait for my drink and the next customer can place their order.
I keep my eyes down as I wait, and fortunately, it only takes another minute before my drink is ready. “Here ya go, Burk,” Krista says eagerly, sliding the cup across the counter. “Come by the tree, all right?”
I nod, grabbing my drink and lifting it in a salute. Just as I start to turn, I see Joy watching me. “Thanks,” I state, hoping not to cause her any more discomfort.
Heading for the door, I still feel her eyes on me, but I don’t look back.
She was clearly embarrassed that her friend invited me to join her and her family for the pageant.
Because she doesn’t want to hang out? Maybe she’s dating someone?
Who knows, but I’m not going to make this awkward for everyone.
I make my way around to the opposite side of the park and watch as the pageant gets ready to begin.
Holiday music is playing, and everyone seems to be grabbing their final refreshments before the competition starts.
I notice the lights in the bakery turn off as a handful of people exit the storefront.