Page 20 of A Love Like Christmas Time
I take a shaky breath. Does that mean by moving here has shown to me that I’m lacking the ability to do things independently? Then again, what does that have to do with relationships?
But in what other ways has my world turned upside down? My cats?
Am I taking this too literally. Or am I not taking it literally enough?
How I wish the universe’s cryptic messages came with a manual. Maybe then I could make more sense of the reading.
Here I thought I’d leave the store this evening, knowing Prince Charming is waiting on my doorstep. Instead I’m questioning my whole existence.
Then again, she did say the universe had a plan. And if that’s the case, who am I not to trust it?
Chapter 7
Caleb
“There is your fourth-in-line godfather.”
At first, I don’t even recognize Kieran’s voice. It’s even higher-pitched than when he talks to Jensen Ackles. I glance up from the milk frothing jug I am rinsing. The door is falling closed behind him with a soft 'click,' the sound of gusting wind suddenly muffling. His black hair sticks out in all directions and he cradles the golden retriever puppy we found on Thanksgiving in his arms as though it were a baby. Hairs of its golden fur stick cover his black coat all over.
When are you leaving?
The question that Nic asked Lauren keeps replaying in my mind, with a volume that makes it hard to focus on anything else.
People leave. I know that. Yet somehow, it never crossed my mind that Lauren could leave.
Why does it bother me so much?
All it would mean is there would be one person less continuously trying to get a rise out of me. One less person here at the café.
No more fights about that syrup she insists on bringing here to defile my coffee. No more continuous chattering about the newest hobby she tried out.
More silence and calm. The same way it was before she moved here. That should sound like bliss, right?
“Fourth in line?” I ask him, arching my eyebrow. Kieran sets the dog down and takes a seat on one of the tall chairs by my counter, taking off his scarf and flattening his hair. Right next to him is Bobby, one of my regulars and former owner of this café. A stout man in his fifties, who usually sports a wool cap, along with a flannel shirt tucked into his worn jeans. An accident at his workplace left him with a permanent limp and walking with a cane that’s leaning against the counter. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Choosing a godparent is all about ‘who’s going to care for him if a truck runs me over,’ right?” I stare at him. Where the hell is this going? “You know, if anything ever happens to me, Henry is going to be first in line to care for him for obvious reasons.” He shoots me a glare that saysduh, while the little creature pulls on his leash until Kieran leans down and picks him up again, trying to lift his chin out of reach of the dog’s tongue. “Second in line is Nic, though I guess if Henry could not take him in, neither could she.” He taps his chin, then shakes his head. “Anyway, Lauren is third in line.”
That gets my attention. Henry, I understand, being a vet and all, but does he genuinely think I’m less trustworthy than the girls? I'm not exactly eager to care for a dog, yet I'm strangely offended.
“Hey! Why the hell are you putting me below Lauren?” I can’t help but ask, narrowing my eyes at him as I set down the pitcher and dry my hands on a towel that I have hanging over my shoulder. Does he not know she’s apparently leaving?
Either way, I guess it’s not my place to fill him in. Hell, I shouldn’t even care about it.
So why do I?
“Don’t take it personally.” He shoots me a wide grin, then turns to Bobby to explain. “Lauren is my neighbor. He’d stay in known terrain if anything happens to me. Also, Lauren has a garden.” His head slowly turns, and his eyes dart to me. “Now I don’t know about you, Mr. Town Grump—” I get the espresso for his cappuccino ready, almost not hearing him over the sound of coffee beans grinding. “—but I doubt you have a garden, the patience for a puppy, or the ability to talk to little Van-Van here in the high-pitched baby-voice that, quite frankly. is the only one he responds to.” His octave rises with each word, and he presses a kiss on top of the puppy’s head.
“Yeah, okay, you might be right about one of those. Give or take.” Kieran rolls his eyes but doesn’t point out he’s, in fact, right about every single one of his points. “Another one for you too, Bobby?” I nod towards his empty cup, and he slides it right over.
“Sure. What special do you have today?”
I top his cup off with his usual filtered coffee, then fill one of the stainless-steel pitchers to froth up the milk for Kieran’s cappuccino. “Today it’s apple crumble rolls.”
Kieran’s eyes widen. “Oh, that sounds delicious. Get me one of those too. Please.” The little dog wriggles in his hold, then tries to climb onto the counter. My eye twitches when I see his paw on the freshly cleaned wood, even though Kieran immediately pulls the dog back into his lap.
Deep breaths, Caleb.The dog is innocent, but his owner sure could use some manners.
“No paws on the counter, man,” I say gruffly and shake my head disapprovingly, throwing him a rag that’s soaked in dishwater.
