Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Seventeen
The Saturday of Ryan and Anisha’s party was a particularly gray one. The snow that had fallen during the first week of December had all since melted, leaving the sidewalks and streets wet and dirty. Allie looked out the café window at the icy rain and shivered.
She wasn’t sure whether George would even make it in for his afternoon tea, but she set his favorite mug aside and kept her eye on the door. He hated the rain. But half an hour past his usual time of arrival, he appeared. She rushed to the door to help him in.
“It’s a disaster out there.” He was uncharacteristically gloomy as he wiped his feet on the mat at the door and handed Allie his umbrella. She stowed it away in the corner near his favorite table.
“Oh, I know. Been coming down all day. It makes for a slow day for us, which isn’t entirely unwelcome, I admit.”
George grinned at her as she took his elbow to walk him to his seat. “Oh? Shall I go, then?”
Allie laughed. “George, you are always welcome. You’re barely a customer, anyway. You’re one of us.” She helped him into his seat and went back to fix his tea.
Ren appeared from the back. “Go sit with him.” They put a hand on Allie’s shoulder. “Have a break. You both look like you need some social interaction.”
Allie carried the tea over and retrieved a glass of water for herself, then took a seat across the table from George.
“Any music for me?” George took a sip of his tea and regarded her with his watery blue eyes over the top of the mug.
“No, actually.” Allie put her glass down. “Since Ryan and I recorded ‘Borderline,’ I haven’t really been working on anything. I do want to get one more song, just to make it to thirteen total.”
“Perhaps you need Ryan for the next one, too.” George looked up at the ceiling in a bad imitation of innocence. “Perhaps you need Ryan for many other things .”
Allie rolled her eyes. “Not you, too.”
He turned his gaze back to her and winked. “I was talking to Mindy and Ren the other day when you were in the back. They’ve got a lot to say about you and Ryan.”
“Well, don’t listen to them. There’s nothing between Ryan and me. We’re just friends.”
“Mindy and Ren don’t think that’s what either of you really want.”
“Well, I can’t speak to what Ryan wants.” Allie sighed. “But, George. It’s been years since I had friends. Actual friends who aren’t coworkers or customers—no offense.”
George shook his head and waved his hand, unoffended. She continued, “I thought I didn’t miss it. But I did. I know that’s ridiculous. Everyone needs friends.”
George paused and stared past her, considering. “It’s true. I always had a good group. School friends, then university friends, then archivist friends. Then, after Sheena died, I had a group of guys that I met for lunch once a week who’d all lost their wives. We called ourselves the Wednesday Widowers.”
“George, that’s the saddest, cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”
George scoffed and waved his hand in the air again, dismissing her admiration. He went back to his tea and waited for her to continue.
“So, you get it, then. I finally have a friend— two friends, actually, because Anisha is my friend as well. I can’t do anything that would risk that.”
George was quiet. He seemed to be considering his words. “Sometimes not doing something is a bigger risk than doing it.”
Allie patted George’s hand and looked into his eyes. “Not this time.”
“I really do just want to see you happy, Allie.”
“I know you do. And I want that, too. I’d hate it if something happened to you and you’d never gotten a chance to stop worrying about me.”
George huffed, his expression contracting in disgust. “Allie, I’m not going to up and die just to give you some meaning in your life. Get your own meaning.”
Allie laughed. “Okay. Fair enough.”
He nodded. “Back to my original topic. When will you have new music for me?”
“I swear I’ll get back to it. I’ve started thinking about this new song. ‘Straight Up,’ it’s called. You’ll like it. It’s catchy.”
“Well, good. It will be hard to follow the xylophone and harmonies, though.”
“I’ll see if I can find another ridiculous children’s instrument to add into this one, for you. How do you feel about the humble kazoo?”
—
When George was gone, Allie wiped down all the unoccupied tables and did a quick check of the clean dishes behind the counter and the cash in the cash drawer.
“I brought you my leopard pants.” Ren looked up from where they were ladling muffin batter into trays. “They’re in the office. They’re cropped on me, so they should fit you just like regular pants.”
“Thank you!” Allie was grateful to Ren for remembering. “I really have no clothes that are suitable for a party.”
“That’s because you have literally never been to a party as long as I have known you.”
Allie considered this and found it to be accurate. “Sad, but true.”
Ren wore the leopard-print pants often, sometimes with a selection of worn black concert shirts, and other times—date times—with a button-down black shirt.
“Thanks for loaning me your lucky pants.” She grinned.
Ren groaned. “They’re not my lucky pants. I’ve told you. I’ve never needed any luck in the pants department.”
“Well, whatever they are, thanks for loaning them to me.”
“No problem. Anisha and I were discussing what you would wear to the party, and honestly, if you hadn’t asked me for the pants, she would have been forcing you into some of her clothes, which is probably not what you’d want.”
Allie gulped. “Yeah, I’m sure I could not carry off whatever dramatic outfit Anisha would pull for me. Baby steps. Your leopard pants will be fine.”
Allie had been thinking of Ren’s lucky pants when she’d found a cropped black wrap shirt at a vintage store the previous week. It had sleeves that widened into voluminous bell shapes, and when she tried it on, she felt like a member of Aerosmith. In a good way. It was the kind of thing that she would have automatically ignored in the past, deeming it impractical for café work. No one needed a bell sleeve dragging through their soup, no matter how fabulous. But now? Now she had a party to go to.
“You’re coming to the party after your shift, right?” she asked Ren.
“Yep.” They nodded. “My party clothes are in the office, so I’ll get changed quick and head straight there.”
“Feel free to close up a bit early if it’s slow.”
“Oh, I was planning on it.”
Allie rolled her eyes. “You know I’m technically your boss, right?”
“Actually, Mindy is my boss, and she already said I could close early.”
“Of course she did.”
“Unless?” Ren called after her as she started up the stairs to her apartment.
“Unless what?” Allie stepped back down and poked her head through the door.
“Unless this is your way of telling me that you’ve finally decided to take over?”
The hope on Ren’s face made Allie’s stomach clench.
“Sorry.” She shook her head. Ren’s face fell. “I still haven’t decided.”
“Well, a person can dream.” Ren perked up almost immediately. “Now get going! You’ve got an actual human party to attend!”
Allie let the door close behind her and made her way up to her quiet, welcoming apartment. The Christmas tree’s lights were plugged in, providing the only light in the room when she arrived. She stood for a minute, admiring the scene. The tree made the apartment feel less lonely, she realized. She hadn’t known it felt lonely until it started not to.
After a moment of reverie, she turned on the overhead light and started to transform Café Worker Allie into Hip Christmas Party Allie. The task felt daunting. She pulled a Go-Go’s cassette from the crate that held her dad’s collection. Those girls liked to party. They could be her musical guardian angels.
She knew Ryan wouldn’t care; all he ever wore was some version of a denim button-down and black jeans. But Anisha had specifically told her that if she showed up in “coveralls and clogs,” she would be turned away at the door.
Allie rummaged through her dusty basket of makeup and tried to call up the skills she’d had when she used to get done up for shows with her band. She lifted a liner pen to her eye and—after having to wipe off one disastrous attempt with soapy tissues—was happy to see that her muscle memory had engaged. With thick lines above each eye, she decided to quit while she was ahead. Her hair had been washed that morning and wound up in a topknot wrapped in a bandanna. When she took it down, it waved over her shoulders. Low-maintenance hair. A random genetic gift from her dad.
The thought made her pause and glance over at the crate of cassettes sitting on the floor by her stereo. Paula Abdul was on top, the case so scuffed she could hardly see the singer’s face beneath it. Despite her assertion to George, Allie was starting to lose interest in her covers project, and she was glad the end was in sight. She still loved the songs, and she had been listening to “Straight Up” a lot. But the lyrical narrator, wondering whether the object of their affections was going to love them forever or whether they were just…having fun? It was hitting a bit too close to home. There was nothing fun about trying to tamp down her crush on Ryan, but she just needed some time to get over it.
Had Paula ever figured it out? Allie laughed at herself for wondering, assuming the pop star probably had more important things to worry about.
Allie gave herself a once-over in the mirror before she left. She was surprised by the somewhat fashionable person who looked back at her. Ren’s leopard-print pants were fitted and slightly tapered. She’d rolled the hems once to get them to stop right where her Doc Martens began. These boots were getting more wear this season than they had in the last decade. The black wrap top worked perfectly with the pants, just as she’d hoped. It tied around her midriff with two long sashes of fabric, and she’d tied the excess in a knot at her lower back. A thin line of exposed skin circled her body where the shirt ended just above the waistline of the pants. She felt sexy. It was weird.
She liked it.
She grabbed her coat and breezed through the kitchen, pausing to show Ren her outfit and getting a “Hubba-hubba!” for her troubles. She had just called goodbye and was stepping out onto the street when Mindy appeared in front of her.
“Oh shit!” Allie put her hand on her heart and slowed her pace. “You scared me! I was just leaving.”
“For Ryan’s party?”
Mindy looked odd. Allie felt the fizzy excitement that had been bubbling within her start to drain away.
What now?
“Yeah. Is everything okay?”
Mindy nodded, hugging her oversized boiled-wool winter coat closer around her body. “Yes. But I need to talk to you. Can I walk you there?”
Allie nodded. They started up the block in silence. Allie noticed her aunt’s navy-blue knit cap poking out from the pocket of her coat and yanked it out, handing it to Mindy.
“Here, put your hat on. It’s freezing.”
Mindy smiled and took the hat, pulling it over her long white braids. “Thanks.”
They walked up the rest of the block. Allie tightened her scarf around her neck and then shoved her hands deep into her pockets. Mindy didn’t say anything, and Allie was quickly frustrated by the silence.
“Okay, out with it.” She stopped walking and turned to her aunt. “What’s happening?”
Mindy turned to face her, blinking her eyes as a cold wind blew around them. “I’ve had an offer.”
“An offer?”
“To buy the café?”
Allie blinked. “At Christmas ?”
Mindy nodded. “I was surprised, too. I assumed I wouldn’t hear a thing until the new year. But apparently, this person has been wanting something in the neighborhood for a while and is very motivated. They want to move here from Sweden. No, wait. Denmark? One of those countries with socialized medicine and stuff.”
Allie had a lump in her throat. “Are they…Do they…Will it still be a café? What about Ren?”
“I don’t know.” Mindy looked down at the dark, wet sidewalk. “I don’t know yet.”
Allie looked down as well, watching the toe of Mindy’s boot trace over a crack in the concrete.
Mindy continued, “I wanted to talk to you before I even start negotiations. It’s still yours if you want it. But it wouldn’t be fair to the potential buyer if I start talking to them and then have to tell them it’s not actually for sale.”
Allie nodded, the lump still in her throat. “How long do I have?”
“Well, I told them it was a busy time with the café and Christmas, but they want to hear from me by the twenty-seventh.”
“Like in two weeks?”
“Yes.”
Allie drew in a sharp breath and looked up at the ominous cloudy sky before she exhaled.
“Look, I know you’re on your way to a party and this is about the shittiest time in the world to spring this on you.”
“Yes!” Allie nodded vigorously. “This is the shittiest time in the world for this.”
“Allie.” Mindy’s voice was firm. “This is a real thing that is happening and could affect the rest of your life. I wanted you to have as much time as possible to think about it. Go to your party. Think about what you want to be doing a year from now. Give yourself a mental Scrooge tour of your past, present and future. Your life has already changed so much in the past few months. Now you need to decide which direction it’s going to go in from here.”
Allie opened her mouth to protest, but Mindy held up a hand to stop her.
“Christmas isn’t just good for people like Ren who want to throw tinsel at everything and listen to that infernal She & Him Christmas album forty times a day. It’s a yearly mile marker. It will help you zero in on what you want to be doing next year at this time. And the year after that. And the year after—”
“I get it,” Allie cut in. Her ears were starting to get cold. She hadn’t worn a hat for fear of messing up her party hair. “Christmas will guide me. Or something.”
Mindy smiled. “Or something.”
Mindy wasn’t a hugger, but she put one steady hand on Allie’s arm, and even that small physical touch through Allie’s thick coat was somehow reassuring. “Just go and have a good night. You’ll figure it out.”
“I’ve got no choice!” Allie called out as she started walking away from Mindy. She heard her aunt’s laughter and turned to watch her retreat up the snowy street, back toward the café. She stood there for a few moments, even when she couldn’t see Mindy anymore. Her first urge was to go home and get back into bed, but she shook it off. It was time to party.