Rebecca Raisin - Christmas Wedding At The Gingerbread Café

I laugh. “Will he sleep?” I click my fingers. “Just like that.” George’s chest rises and falls slower as slumber overcomes him. Sitting so close to the fire after a long day in transit has obviously zapped George.

Olivia sighs. “He can sleep anywhere, that man, on a plane, on a train, but not today it seems. He was too keyed up about finally seeing Damon.”

“How long are you planning to stay in Ashford?” I ask as Olivia gazes at her slumbering husband, watching his lips flutter with each deep exhalation.

Finally she turns back to me. “Not long. We’ll leave the day after the wedding.”

I frown. “Oh, you’re not staying for Christmas Day?” I’d thought it was a given that they’d stay. Charlie will be here, and we’d planned a week off in honor of spending the time as a family, instead of taking a honeymoon. CeeCee drops something in the kitchen; the clattering makes George’s eyelids flutter momentarily. “Sorry!” Damon hollers out.

“No, Ashford’s not my kind of town, Lil.” She lets out a hollow laugh. “That’s why we moved from here as quickly as possible. Neither of us can work out why Damon felt the urge to move back. He was only a toddler when we left, so it’s not like he would have remembered the place.”

I try not to blanch at her statement. “Ashford’s changed a lot since then. You might like it a little more now.”

“It hasn’t changed a bit. The main street is still the same, and even the people are the same. Nothing changes here. We’ve come early to make sure Damon is…happy.”

Golly. I double blink. “Happy?”

She tilts her head to the side, and slaps on a smile. “His sudden departure from New Orleans worried us, and the few times we’ve seen him since haven’t allayed those concerns.”

My mind whirls. Damon didn’t leave New Orleans suddenly; he left after a long drawn-out divorce with his first wife, Dianne. In fact, he stayed in New Orleans a lot longer for his daughter’s sake. Leaving her there and only being able to see her on school holidays and the odd weekend has been tough on him, there’s no question, which is why he spent so long making the decision to move.

I clear my throat, suddenly not sure I’m on an even keel with Olivia any more. “You’ll see, then, how happy Damon is here. He loves this place.”

“Does he?” She lifts a brow. “Wonderful.”

I glance over my shoulder wondering what’s taking CeeCee and Damon so long. CeeCee is busy showing Damon our profiterole towers, and miming how we flicked the toffee on them.

Olivia shifts back on her chair. “Between us, Lil, he’s always despised small towns. He’s a vibrant, social person, so it makes us wonder if he’s made the right choice. He’s missing so much being away from his family.”

I nod dumbly, the wind knocked right out of me. Damon told me he moved here specifically because it was a small town and that was what he wanted. His parents had lived here eons ago, and it felt like a special place to him. When his daughter visits she can roam the meadows, safe in a small-town environment.

Outside the night has turned an inky black. Christmas lights from the shops across the road reflect back on the windows of the café, reds and greens melting together, casting a festive glow over the room.

Olivia leans forward. “I know you’ll keep this to yourself, but George and I worry a lot about Damon. Missing out on all those milestones with Charlie. There’s the school plays, and her swim meets…you know, he can never get that time back.”

I crane my neck to see if Damon’s within earshot but he’s still busy chatting away to CeeCee, throwing his hands in the air, and acting out some story, his face lit up with laughter.

“No…” I manage. “I suppose he can’t. But Charlie does seem well adjusted to life here.”

She shrugs. “Listen, it doesn’t matter anyway. Damon was going to return, until…” She bites her lip and stares directly at me.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. “He was going to move back to New Orleans?” My voice comes out almost like a whine. “When was that the plan? We’ve been together since he stepped into Ashford and he was adamant he was staying for good.” Olivia’s put me on the back foot and it’s been all of five minutes.

Olivia raises her eyebrows. “Really, what’s the point of him being here? His business makes next to no money, his daughter is elsewhere, the town isn’t exactly thriving…”

I resist the urge to cup my head in my hands. “ I’m here, Olivia. And I love him with all my heart.”

“But so does his seven-year-old daughter. Anyway, food for thought,” she says as if she hasn’t just dropped a bombshell on me. “Now, tell me about your dress…”

I stare ahead, mute with shock. Why would Damon go to all the effort of setting up a shop, having it professionally decorated, if he weren’t planning on staying? It doesn’t make sense. And surely he would have told me? I wonder if it’s just wishful thinking on Olivia’s part. Charlie and Damon miss each other, but is he pining for New Orleans and his old life?

“Lookie here.” CeeCee finally walks back with a tray of eggnog and hands everyone a glass. She puts George’s on the round side table next to him. “This is my special recipe. I surely hope you ain’t driving afterwards.” She cackles high and loud. Damon sits beside me again, and I gladly roll back into his warmth, my stomach recoiling slightly at the conversation Olivia and I just had.

“Thanks, Cee.” I take a sip and even with the frothiness of the milk the amount of alcohol CeeCee’s added gives my system a jolt. She winks at me, and I smile weakly. Maybe she figured a slight inebriation might help when meeting the future in-laws.

Olivia crosses her ankles as if she’s a product from a deportment school. “Lil was just about to tell me all about her dress.”

“Well, she can’t now.” Damon grins at me, and it takes all my might to return a half-hearted smile.

“I’m sure Lil can tell me later. I did want to say one thing, while we’re all together: we have a big family, especially on the outskirts of Ashford, since we were all from here originally—”

CeeCee pipes up, “Since before there was electricity, don’t ya know.” She jerks a thumb towards Damon. “He told us that, already.” She giggles. “Remember that, last year, Lil?” I nod, and smile at the memory of Damon strutting into the café when we’d gone to war with each other trying to steal each other’s customers. I’d said he had no chance, folks round here were loyal, and he was just a newcomer, until he’d thrown into the conversation that he was a Guthrie.

In their heyday, the Guthries owned a bunch of transport, and shipping business in Ashford and its outskirts. They still own lots of property around here but with their businesses sold they had money to burn, and still do, by the looks. I was sure that his family would bail him out if we went head to head, business to business, but instead we fell in love, and worked together, propping each other’s shops up.

CeeCee waddles over to the coat rack, and wraps her scarf, and takes her handbag down. “On that note, I’m gonna leave you kids to it. Nice meeting you, Olivia. Give George my respects. Be seeing y’all.” It’s late and CeeCee must be bushed. I know I am. I stand to hug her, and must hold on a little tight. “Whoa, cherry blossom, you gonna strangle me.”

I let out a nervous laugh. “See you, Cee.” She searches my face; she knows me so well, and intuits there’s something off kilter.

“I’ll be here bright and early, sugar plum.” We exchange a knowing glance — she’ll be here before the sun rises behind grey skies to find out what’s stolen the smile from my face.