3. Beth
Chapter 3
Beth
T he next morning, I sat at the kitchen table with my laptop, a steaming cup of peppermint mocha beside me. The café wouldn’t open for another hour, giving me just enough time to sort through my finances. With a sigh, I clicked open my bank statements.
The numbers stared back at me like a bad dream. Fixing the car had drained more than I’d expected. The café's holiday rush was good, but not enough to offset the expenses I'd racked up this month. My heart sank a little, but I refused to let it ruin my day.
I closed the laptop and stood, shaking off the worry like a snowflake caught in my hair. Baking always lifted my spirits, and with Christmas around the corner, there was no better time to experiment with new recipes.
I moved to the counter where ingredients waited in neat rows. Flour, sugar, butter—it was all there, ready to be transformed into something magical. I rolled up my sleeves and got to work.
Mixing flour and sugar in a large bowl, I thought back to yesterday's encounter with Daryl. His demeanor was gruff and stoic, something I hadn’t dealt with much in my life. He intrigued me in a way I couldn't quite explain. His eyes held stories he wasn’t ready to share.
I added vanilla extract and eggs to the mixture, then paused for a moment before tossing in a handful of crushed candy canes. They'd give the cookies a festive touch.
As I stirred, memories of Christmases danced in my mind—mom teaching me how to bake gingerbread men, Dad's off-key caroling filling the house with laughter. Those were simpler times before life got complicated with breakups and financial woes.
With dough sticking to my fingers, I shaped it into small balls and placed them on a baking sheet. The oven preheated behind me, filling the kitchen with warmth that made everything feel okay for just a moment.
I sprinkled some extra candy cane bits on top of each cookie before sliding the tray into the oven. As they baked, I wiped down the counters and hummed a tune I'd been working on—a song no one had heard but me.
The smell of peppermint and sugar soon filled the café. It wrapped around me like a comforting hug, reminding me why I loved this place so much.
Maybe I'd bring some cookies over to Daryl later. Who knew? Everyone could use a bit of Christmas cheer.
For now, though, I'd focus on getting through today—one batch of cookies at a time.
The doorbell chimed, and I glanced up to see Ellie walking in, her cheeks flushed from the cold. She always had that energetic bounce in her step, like life was a song she couldn’t help but dance to.
"Morning, sunshine!" she called, unwrapping her scarf and plopping down on a stool at the counter. "Got anything warm and delicious for your favorite best friend?"
"Peppermint mocha?" I slid a mug towards her with a grin. "And fresh peppermint cookies in about five minutes."
"You spoil me," she said, taking a sip and sighing contentedly. “You missed out on the holiday market, which is a bummer. It was so crowded. You'd definitely have sold out of those cookies. You going to the next one?"
I nodded, feeling the usual flutter of excitement mixed with anxiety. "Probably. I’ve been experimenting with new recipes. Thought I’d try these cookies today."
Ellie leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "You always nail it. Anything else on your mind? You look…distracted."
I bit my lip, then decided to spill it. "I mean, my car broke down yesterday."
"Oh, my gosh, that's right," she replied. "Sorry. I have a huge essay due like the day after break."
"Kane's kind of a Scrooge, isn't he?" I asked.
Ellie’s eyes widened as she set her mug down. "The biggest."
"The biggest?" I asked with a smirk.
Ellie flicked my nose. "That's not what I meant. Anyway. Your car. Is it okay now?"
I shrugged, trying to play it off. "Yeah, it’s fixed. Daryl Walker took care of it."
"Daryl Walker?" She leaned in closer, her curiosity piqued. "What’s he like?"
"Well, he's... different," I began, choosing my words carefully. "Quiet, reserved. He doesn’t say much, but he knows what he’s doing. I mean, I'm supposed to pick up my car in a couple of days."
Ellie smirked, her eyes dancing with mischief. "And you trust him with your car? That’s saying something."
I laughed softly. "Yeah, I guess I do. He may be a bit rough around the edges, but there's something about him that seems... reliable."
"Sounds like someone has a little crush," she teased.
"Oh, stop it," I said, feeling my cheeks flush. "It’s not like that. He’s just...interesting."
Ellie took another sip of her mocha and then set the mug down with a decisive thud. "You know what you should do?"
I raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"Invite him to the Christmas tree lighting tonight," she said, her tone filled with enthusiasm. "It could be good for him—get him out of that garage and into some holiday spirit."
I bit my lip, considering her suggestion. The idea of inviting Daryl to something festive felt almost absurd given his demeanor, but there was a part of me that wanted to see how he'd react.
"I don’t know," I hesitated. "He doesn’t seem like the Christmas tree lighting type."
"Exactly why you should ask him," Ellie insisted. "Who knows? Maybe he just needs a little push to enjoy the holidays."
I thought about it for a moment longer. Ellie had a point—sometimes people just needed an invitation to feel included.
"Okay," I agreed slowly. "I’ll do it. But if he says no, this is on you."
She grinned widely and gave me a thumbs up. "Deal! Now, let’s get those cookies out of the oven before they burn."
I opened the oven door and pulled out the tray of cookies, their sweet aroma filling the room once again. As I set them on the cooling rack, I couldn’t help but wonder how Daryl would respond to my invitation.
But for now, I focused on the task at hand—baking and enjoying the morning with my best friend.
One step at a time.
The afternoon rush had finally died down, leaving the café in a rare moment of quiet. I glanced at the clock and decided it was now or never. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed a basket of cookies, still warm from the oven, and slipped outside.
The cold air hit me instantly, making me shiver and pull my coat tighter around me. The town looked like something out of a Christmas card. Snow blanketed the ground, turning everything into a winter wonderland. Wreaths adorned every door, and twinkling lights hung from rooftops and trees, casting a warm glow against the evening sky.
As I walked down Main Street, I passed familiar landmarks—the old bookstore with its creaky wooden sign, the town hall with its grand clock tower, and the small park where children built snowmen and chased each other in fits of laughter. Every now and then, someone would wave or call out a greeting. It seemed everyone was in good spirits today.
My thoughts wandered to Daryl as I made my way towards his garage. The idea of him cooped up in that dimly lit space while the rest of the town celebrated Christmas made me feel both sad and determined. If anyone could use some holiday cheer, it was him.
The garage came into view at the end of the street. It stood in stark contrast to the festive surroundings—dark, unadorned, almost brooding. A single light shone from within, casting long shadows across the snow-covered ground.
I hesitated for a moment at the entrance, my breath visible in the cold air as I steeled myself for what might come next. Gathering my courage, I pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The warmth hit me immediately, mingling with the smell of motor oil and metal. Daryl was bent over a car engine, his back to me. He didn’t seem to notice my arrival at first.
"Daryl," I called softly.
He straightened up slowly, turning to face me with an expression that was equal parts surprise and annoyance.
"I brought you some cookies," I said quickly before he could brush me off again. "Thought you might like them."
His eyes flickered to the basket in my hands, then back to my face. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence stretched on, filled only by the distant hum of machinery.
Finally, he sighed and wiped his hands on a rag. "You didn’t have to do that."
"I know," I replied with a small smile. "But I wanted to."
I held out the basket, trying to ignore the way my hands shook from the cold. Daryl’s eyes lingered on it, but his expression didn’t soften.
"I appreciate the thought, Beth," he said, his voice low and gruff. "But I don’t need any cookies."
My smile faltered, but I kept it in place. "They're just a little something to say thanks for helping me with my car."
He nodded, his face unreadable. "Your car's fixed and will be ready for pickup Wednesday. No need for thanks. You paid. We're square."
I glanced around the garage, trying to find something—anything—to keep the conversation going. "You've got quite a setup here. Been busy?"
He shrugged, turning back to the engine he'd been working on. "Work’s work."
I sighed inwardly, feeling the weight of his dismissal settle on my shoulders. It was like talking to a brick wall. But I wasn’t ready to give up just yet.
"I was wondering," I began hesitantly, "if you’d like to come to the Christmas tree lighting tonight. It’s a big deal in town—lots of people, music, hot cocoa…"
He didn’t even look up this time. "Not my thing."
I took a step closer, desperate to break through his icy exterior. "You might enjoy it. It's a great way to feel connected with everyone."
Daryl finally looked at me, his eyes cold and distant. "Beth, I don’t do Christmas."
The finality in his tone stung more than I cared to admit. I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment as I took a step back.
"Okay," I whispered, clutching the basket tighter against me. "I understand."
Without another word, I turned and walked out of the garage; the door creaking shut behind me. The cold air outside felt even more biting than before as I hurried back towards the café.
My mind raced with thoughts of what I could have done differently or said better. But deep down, I knew Daryl wasn’t going to be an easy nut to crack.
Back at the café, Ellie looked up from wiping down tables as I entered.
"How’d it go?" she asked, her eyes full of hope.
I forced a smile and set the basket down on the counter. "Not great," I admitted. "He wouldn’t take the cookies or come to the tree lighting."
"Sounds like Kane's long-lost brother." Ellie frowned but quickly masked her disappointment with a reassuring smile. "Don’t worry about it, Beth. Some people just need more time."
I nodded, though doubt gnawed at me. Maybe Daryl needed more time than I could give him.
"Let's focus on getting ready for tonight," Ellie suggested brightly.
I agreed and joined her in preparing for what would undoubtedly be a bustling evening at the café.
Ellie’s reassurances didn’t explain why my chest felt tight and my smile felt forced. I kept busy, preparing for the evening rush, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Daryl. I couldn’t shake the image of his cold eyes and the way he’d dismissed my efforts so easily.
The door chimed as customers began trickling in, and soon the café was buzzing with chatter and laughter. I forced myself to engage with each person who came through the door, putting on my best smile even though it felt strained.
“Hey, Beth!” one of our regulars called out. “Can’t wait for tonight’s tree lighting! You coming?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” I replied with more enthusiasm than I felt.
The evening wore on, and despite the festive atmosphere around me, I couldn’t shake the heaviness in my chest. Ellie noticed, of course—she always did—but she didn’t push. She just gave me small smiles and gentle nudges when she thought I needed them.
As the last few customers trickled out and we started cleaning up for the night, Ellie finally spoke up again.
“You know,” she said thoughtfully, “sometimes people need someone to believe in them before they can believe in themselves.”
I looked at her, puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“I mean Daryl,” she clarified. “Maybe he just needs someone like you to keep trying. To show him that not everyone’s going to give up on him.”
Her words struck a chord deep within me. Maybe she was right—maybe all Daryl needed was someone willing to break through his walls.
“Thanks, Ellie,” I said softly.
She smiled warmly at me. “Anytime.”
As we finished tidying up and turned off the lights in the café, I couldn’t help but feel a renewed sense of determination. Maybe cracking Daryl’s shell wouldn’t be easy, but if anyone could do it, maybe it was me.