Dear Reader,
This story appears with other shorts in the anthology titled “A Varied Merry Christmas”. Read on.
Snowflakes swirled outside above the footprint laden sidewalk and street. Bronti stared out of the window. The daylight was fading above the busy downtown street, and her hand traced the wood grain of the tabletop. She found herself watching the reflection of the busy crowd inside the coffee shop. The music was whimsical, full of jingling bells, neighing horses and undulating choruses of strings. Feeling like a spy, she followed the coffee shop patrons’ movements reflected in the glass. Long woolen coats moved between shorter parkas. Beanies with large tams bobbed above trapper hats and berets. Paper shopping bags rustled as their carriers shoved their way through the crowd. The large bag of a passing customer knocked into her shoulder and she winced.
The shop was noisy. Customer’s orders were called. Discussions of recent purchases flitted about. Friends and family members called to one another. An elderly voice from the table behind Bronti worried about the affordability of more shopping during a phone call to a friend. Bronti didn’t want to be here in the hustle and bustle, surrounded by people happy to be with friends and family. This Christmas, she would be on her own. She admitted to a feeling of resentment toward anyone who looked remotely cheered.
“Can I sit here?” A voice said, and then the attached body proceeded to drop into the seat across from her. Her new companion was a tiny woman dressed head to toe in name brands. Her hair was a jet black pixie cut decorated with various Christmas-y barrettes.
Bronti blinked in dismay, “I’m saving that seat for someone.” A lie.
Large brown eyes, fringed with fur-like lashes regarded her calmly and with humor, “Oh. Well. Can you let me have the seat til they get here? I’ve been on my feet all day! I’m Mel!”A tiny, delicate hand, laden with candy cane rings and tiny Santa Clauses painted onto manicured nails, reached toward her. Her smile, china porcelain white and surrounded by lips dipped in what resembled glossy candy apple coating, was bright and dazzling. Bronti blinked in the glare. After a moment’s hesitation, she shook Mel’s hand, hoping she wouldn’t consider it an invitation to stay. “Bronti,” she mumbled in way of introduction. She provided a jerky little smile to lessen the bluntness of her discomfort. She slid her eyes away and dipped her head before returning her gaze to the window.
The crush of people moving toward and backward past the table was suffocating. It was dark outside now, but Bronti kept her gaze trained through the window, ignoring the newcomer.
“There you are. Why didn’t you tell me where you were going to be?” Bronti turned to see an unbelievably tall woman, frowning down at Mel. Her stance was possessive and protective. Mel, unflappable and amused, chirped, “I didn’t know where I was going to be, silly. This placed is packed. Had to find somewhere to sit, didn’t I?”
Bronti waited for them both to leave. She was startled when the newcomer flicked a baleful gaze at Bronti, then said to Mel, “Let’s go. You’ll be late for chemo,” she said, motioning for her to stand. Bronti’s eyes widened as she gazed at Mel, now noticing the heavy makeup, perfectly drawn brows and what must be a first-class wig.
Mel stood, shrugging apologetically, “I’m late for chemo.” The brightness in her eyes had dimmed a little, but as her companion took her hand, she smiled brightly and said, “Thanks for letting me sit at your table!”
Unnerved, Bronti nodded wordlessly and she watched them squeeze their way through the crowd. When she lost sight of them, she buried her chin into her thick, cashmere scarf and sipped her tea. As Bronti pondered the vibrancy of Mel in contrast to her illness, her eyes trailed down to watch the mesmerizing train of the endless jacket and coat hems slide against the edge of her table. The elderly woman behind her mumbled to herself, ticking off items in a Christmas list and complaining about how things were so expensive these days.
Bronti watched the coats go by; corduroy, wool, leather, fleece, knitted, a pair of eyes. Bronti turned fully toward them in curiosity. The wide, round blue eyes of a child—gender unknown because of the heavy wrappings of its winter wear-stared at back. Bronti returned its steady gaze. A tiny hand in a pale blue glove slid a felt candy cane decoration over the edge of the table and slid it toward her, keeping eye contact.
Bronti placed her fingertips on the colourful item and smiled her thanks. The child turned and pushed its way through the many adult legs crammed in around it. She looked down at the gift and read “Hape Crissmus, Lov Jo-jo” written in a child’s scrawl. She craned her neck to see the gift-giver and found “Jo-jo” standing at the door with someone who must be the mother. The woman gave her a small smile and wave and both left the busy shop. Bronti snuggled into her coat and scarf. How sweet.
A jarring Christmas tune bounced about the shop and she burrowed further into her scarf in an attempt to shield her ears from the sound. Something slapped against the window beside her, startling her. She turned toward it. A red paper heart was taped to the outside of her window with a message in black ink that read, Smile! You’re beautiful! Bronti’s lips parted in surprise. Leaning forward to peer around the heart, she found Mel standing just behind the red heart, making a smiling motion with her hands. She gave Bronti a little wave and dashed off into the snow. Another gift from a stranger.
“Oh, good! An empty seat! You don’t mind do ya? Just still they call my name?”
For a moment, Bronti wanted to retreat into herself and rail against strangers regarding an empty seat as an open invitation. She changed her mind. There were nice people in the world, who only wanted a moment to sit on a busy day. She could afford that much. Her eyes traveled up past the pristine wool cuffs of the well-cut coat, the chocolate leather strap of a cross-body bag, sharply pressed single-breasted collar, smooth chin, full lips, slightly angled nose, to the piercing almond-shaped eyes fringed with straight black lashes of the….gorgeous stranger.
Bronti shook her head vigorously, “No. No. I don’t mind at all.”
Hypocrite! her mind yelled.
Faced with all this perfection before her, Bronti quailed and fidgeted. Her new table companion glanced at out of the window and then over to the paper heart and its message. His eyes rested on her face.
“They’re right you know,” he said in a velvety voice, “You’re beautiful.”
“Park!” a coffee shop employee called out.
The gorgeous stranger’s face lit up in surprise and he glanced over at Bronti, winking, “That was fast, huh? You can have your table all to yourself once again!”
He bent toward her as he stood and Bronti’s hips, abdomen, and stomach pinged fireworks within. Her fingers loosened their grip on her cup and her breath caught as she stared at him watching his face as it drew nearer to hers. Her eyes dropped to follow him as he bent down beside the table to retrieve a few shopping bags. She blinked rapidly to disguise her wanton and naked desire to be kissed.
“See ya!” He said.
His smile was full of gorgeous, glistening teeth that flashed and gleamed in the light of the coffee shop. He turned and was swallowed up in the unceasing sea of shoppers in for a cup of coffee and a warm pastry.
Her earlier gloom and antisocial mood now sat and steeped in a tea full of depression. She slumped in her chair and stared down at the large book on the table. She breathed out in a slow stream, gathered her purse and cup, preparing to head back home. A softly floral scent made her glance up. She saw the elderly woman who had been sitting behind her all this time, who worried about having enough money to continue shopping. On impulse, Bronti grabbed the woman’s coat sleeve. The woman’s worried gaze met Bronti’s.
Bronti gave a little wave, “Hi, I’m Bronti. Care to sit with me for a little while? Maybe I can help you with your shopping.”
The woman’s eyes traveled over Bronti’s face, searching it. Bronti smiled back reassuringly and the woman sat down across from her.
The streetlight outside the window, highlighted Bronti as she sat chatting with the newcomer to her table. Several people inside the coffee shop and outside of it, watched her, beautiful and regal with a hint of Audrey Hepburn in her carriage. The warm lights around her reflected upon the angles and planes of her hazel skin. They wished they too could share her table, for just a little while.
The end.
Copyright Nathina Knight 2019. All Rights Reserved.
Est. 1980 