Page 39 of A Love Like Christmas Time
“I’m just saying, it might be time to talk it out with someone. One of my clients—she’s a therapist. And if you want to, I’m happy to give you her card.”
“I’m good,” I say, fidgeting with my gloves. Henry doesn’t know it, but I’ve got a therapist. It’s been years since I last saw him, but it was one of Bobby’s conditions for letting me takeover the café. He was worried about me working myself right into a burnout in an attempt to silence my thoughts.
I guess it was semi-successful. I still work a lot to silence my thoughts, but not quite enough to worry about burnout. Maybe if I lived and had a café in a bigger city; however, Wayward Hollow doesn’t nearly have enough traffic or residents to cause it.
“Are you? Let me be clear. You’re not getting rid of me. Your demeanor is not exactly sunshine, and you always look scared shitless around my parents. You also do that thing where you push me away every few months. And I’m stubborn, so I don’t mind. But…” He takes a deep breath and shrugs. “Others might.”
“Then that’s how it is.” I shake my head softly, reaching up to pull my beanie down over my ears. My hands need something to do. “Henry, I appreciate you checking in. But I’ve got it.”
“Okay.” Henry shrugs and turns onto Wayward Hollow’s main street, rolling to a stop in front of his clinic. “But promise me to think about it.”
“Sure. I promise,” I say with the conviction of someone who’s most definitely not going to think about it. “Thanks for driving. And thanks for having me,” I tell him before I open the car door and jump out, hurrying over to the entrance to escape the snow flurry.
When I rummage for the keys in my pocket, my fingers suddenly touch paper.
“That sneaky mother…” I grumble and take out the little name card. With a deep sigh, I put it back into the pocket and unlock my door.
He really is stubborn.
Chapter 16
Caleb
Blissful silence fills the café as I make my rounds, wiping the tables and collecting dirty mugs and plates. Thank God for my trusty dishwasher and the fact that I don’t have to clean each of them by hand. Bobby used to make me do that when I acted up, right after I began working for him. It was a very effective punishment.
I enjoy this downtime in the last 15 minutes before closing.
Sometimes Dimitri, a withdrawn guy in his forties who builds furniture in his own woodworking shop, pops in for a coffee to go before making his way back to his home just outside of Wayward Hollow. He told me that he’s a night owl. For him, getting a coffee in the early evening is the equivalent of people with a more common routine coming in here around noon.
I can’t fault that logic.
Once upon a time I used to love sleeping in, but this café gave me a routine that is hard to get out of my head. Not that I’ve ever tried. Because if there’s one thing I needed back then and still do today, it’s a routine. Something I can hold on to, something reliable, predictable.
Is that why Lauren scares me so much? Because she challenges everything about it?
Like today. Usually after closing up, I’d make the short drive to the supermarket for dinner. On the way, I’d decide what Iwould have for dinner that evening and maybe the next day. I’d shop for it, drive back home, cook, and then settle in for the night, go to sleep and wake up early to prepare everything for the café.
It’s a simple life.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned about myself, it’s that I like to know what’s coming. And today, Lauren announced - yes, not asked,announced- that she was coming over.
And for some reason, that does not cause a pit in my stomach and my thoughts to spiral. Hell, I’m even excited about it. She wants to show me her final ideas for our Christmas market stand. I still have no idea how she roped me into this, or even why she’d even want me to help her.
I would never admit it out loud, but I’m kind of looking forward to the Christmas market now. And that’s making me suspicious.
Because this? Being happy? The woman who makes my heart flutter and me wanting to step out of my comfort zone at least kind of likes me? I mean, otherwise she wouldn’t have asked me to help her with the Christmas market booth, right?
I can’t trust it. It’s too good to be true. This kind of stuff doesn’t happen to me.
No. Being the unluckiest of the bunch is what happens to me.
Though considering the fact that Nic’s ex-fiancée cheated on her with her sister, all while her parents knew about it and seemingly even encouraged it in an attempt to scam her out of money, I’m not sure I can still call myself the unluckiest of our group.
It’s more of a head-to-head race between Nic and me now. What a weird realization.
All of a sudden, the bell over my entrance door chimes, announcing someone entering.
“I’m about to close,” I say gruffly, without bothering to lift my head to see who it is. Heavy steps make their way inside, but whoever it is doesn’t answer me and they don’t turn around, the bells don’t chime again, announcing a departure.
