Chapter Twelve
Marcel
The little diner smells of fresh baked bread and coffee and it’s strung with hundreds of multi-colored twinkle lights and tinsel.
I’ve thought about Juliet all day. After our vegan meal I had a driver take her back home, giving her the illusion that I’d be allowing her some space.
Juliet has valid concerns about the project, but I can’t just storm into a multimillion dollar deal and tell them to save a library and decrepit homes.
If there is a chance to save her community we need a viable alternative.
My expensive suit and coat look hilariously out of place amid the brightly colored Christmas mugs and plates. There are ubiquitous Santa decorations everywhere and Christmas carols playing from an ancient jukebox.
“This is Tommy’s,” Juliet tells me.
There is a fat man dressed in a plaid shirt with his belly hanging over gray wool pants, wearing a Santa hat walking around to all of the tables giving away free pie tonight.
“And that’s Tommy.”
“Does Tommy make a profit giving people pumpkin pie every night?” The man must be losing his shirt ... or has already lost it and opted for the one that is a size too small.
“It’s not pumpkin every night, sometimes it’s apple, or lemon. My favorite is strawberry.”
Tommy makes his way to us and without any warning whatsoever he launches at Juliet.
“Jules Limon-berry! How is my favorite friend’s daughter? How’s life treatin’ ya? You conquer the world yet?” He’s a jovial old sap.
“Workin’ on it, Tommy. This is Marcel.” She introduces me and for the first time she doesn’t say anything disparaging, I actually appreciate that.
Tommy shows us to a booth in the far corner then hands each of us a menu. “I recommend the chicken pot pie,” he says with a jovial grin. “And the tofu vegetable teriyaki bake made in honor of my girl, Limon-berry.”
I look at Juliet and shrug my shoulders. “It's your call, Ma Chérie. Tonight is on you.”
“He’ll have the chicken pot pie, and I’ll have the vegie-teri. Bring your nicest red wine for my friend and a 7UP for me. For dessert we'll have the strawberry pie.”
She settles more deeply into the booth after ordering and looks so adorable in her bright red sweater that matches the decor perfectly.
“So why does he call you Limon-berry?” The name has piqued my curiosity.
“My grandfather and Tommy grew up together.
As you can see, Tommy has a bit of a thing for pie and that's because his dad had a berry farm and pie was a huge part of his childhood. My grandpa and Tommy were best friends for over eighty years. Tommy is eighty-three if you can believe that. He’s always called me Limon-berry because my last name is Limons and he has to put berry on the end of everything.
It's just a thing Tommy does.” An adorable smile spreads across her face.
The food comes and it is delicious. I am accustomed to the finest things.
I only eat at high-end restaurants, or places like the burrito cart where I know the food is going to be homemade and top quality.
Tommy's cooking is both. By the time dessert comes, I'm not only stuffed to the brim, I'm actually content.
That is saying a lot for me considering I'm not usually a very happy person. I have moments of joy, but they are fleeting and far between. Ever since meeting Juliet, however, I have been floating, almost levitating with happiness. This, of course, is something I am not going to ever admit to Juliet, because I’m still unsure of what she and I will become.
“That was truly delicious. I'm not just saying it to make you happy. I am a food connoisseur, as you might expect, and that was delightful.” The lovely smile that Juliet had been wearing all night grows ten times bigger.
“I'm glad you liked the food. I'll have to tell Tommy when I see him again how much you enjoyed it.
He usually doesn't stick around for too long after opening because he's a pretty old guy.
Now for the best part of the night. One of my family's Christmas traditions is to have dinner at Tommy's with pie and then partake in the Eaton Valley Christmas sleigh ride. There is no way we are leaving Eaton without riding on the sleigh.” Her smile turns sinister.
“Well, seeing that I am at your mercy, lead the way.” I'm so tempted to take her hand and yet I know I am not at liberty to do so.
She takes me outside to the park where the sleigh rides are staged.
We bundle up from head to toe in blankets offered by the concession operating the sleigh ride.
The wind picks up and there is a storm rolling in fast. This does not deter Juliet as she is determined to participate in her family's Christmas tradition and we climb aboard. The sleigh rattles over ice, the horses toss their heads and we are bouncing along freezing our asses off. I grip the railing for dear life, pretending I’m not scared to death.
This is treacherous riding along icy city streets in a sleigh that must fall far below safety standards.
I wonder when the last time this thing was inspected?
I assume it was sometime during the late nineties.
When the ride ends, I am praising god for being alive and I glance at the darkening sky. “Glad we got that in before the storm.”
“Oh yikes,” Juliet says, looking up.
How is she just noticing?
“Best we get indoors. I can take you home. Where do you live?” I ask as if I don’t already know.
“You can take me back to the office.” She’s aloof and all business again.
“Come on, the weather is about to get really nasty, I’m not taking you back to the office.
I may be a Grinch, but I’m not a douche bag.
The day is over, you showed me what I needed to see and I definitely got a taste of what Eaton is all about.
Win/win for now. You can go home victorious.
” I can’t tell her that I’m still planning on razing the town because I’d know if I did, I’d never see her again.
“Ok,” she finally relents and I ask her for her address which she reluctantly gives.
Well, she tells me the street address of her building, but not the number of her Gran’s residence. My driver takes us to her Grandma's apartment building which is not far from the diner.
Since we only spend a few minutes in the car I can't really talk to her about anything too deep. She asks me if I meant it when I told her I'd make one concession. I explain that if I am able to get it approved by the board I will do my best. I hate to see the hope and joy on her face disappear.
She's fairly somber by the time we arrive at her Gran’s house. I know this is my only chance to turn this around and so I take a risk I shouldn't. I lean in so close, I can smell the warm vanilla aroma of her shampoo. “Juliet ...”
She turns to me and I kiss her slowly and deliberately. “I may be a Grinch,” I tell her as I break from our kiss. “But you’re brighter and more beautiful than the Christmas star,” I murmur against her cheek.
“Um, thanks.”
Good. I flustered her a little and suddenly it starts to snow hard.
“Wow, it’s really coming down. You should get going so your driver can go home.” He gives her a smile through the rear view mirror, probably greatly appreciating that she mentioned he also needs to get home in bad weather.
I never think about the people serving me.
He likely needs to go to some kind of a dispatch area and drop the car off.
Then he’ll need to use his own car to get home and God knows where that is.
If we are heading into another blizzard he could very well get stuck somewhere.
Of course I never think of these things, but it's the first thing out of Juliet’s mouth, and no mention of our kiss.
As I'm mulling over the differences between her kindness and my callous disregard, she furrows her brow and huffs.
“I left my keys on the counter. I was in such a hurry this morning.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket and dials her grandmother I assume.
“Hey, Gran it's me. I'm good. Listen, I'm so sorry but I left my keys at work, can you come out and open the door? I really hate to disrupt you, I know it's getting late and yucky outside but I forgot to put them in my bag.” Gran seems to be fine with coming down and opening the door for Juliet and I watch her face relax with relief. She looks at me and says, “She’s coming.”
“Oh, great.” I'm a little disappointed that someone is coming to rescue Juliet because the first thing that crossed my mind was to bring her back to the hotel with me.
When Gran shows up at the front door Juliet looks at me for a moment. I feel like she wants to kiss me, but simply cannot allow herself to let go.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say reluctantly and Juliet walks up the front stairs to meet Gran.
I wait for them to enter the house while I answer a text that comes through asking for updates on the project.
The snow is now pummeling the car with severe gusts of wind.
I finish my text and to my immense surprise, Gran is in the horrible snow storm knocking on my window.
I open the door and she pokes her head in.
“Send that driver home,” she says. “The blizzard is coming.” She looks at me and says, “The enemy can sleep in the guest room. I'm not letting anyone drive in this weather.” She then knocks on the driver's window. He rolls it down and she pokes her head inside. “How are you getting home?”
“Dispatch is around the corner, and I'm not too far from that. I'll make it home just fine, ma’am. Thank you.”
Well, now I know where Juliet gets her compassion.