The Christmas Layover

by Robert Tate Miller

  “I appreciate it, Robbie,” Ally said. “Maybe…someday. And I’m sure you’re an awesome friend.”

  “I guess so,” he said. “All the guys at school call me ‘friend zone.’ I know they mean it as an insult, but I pretend it’s a compliment, and that drives them crazy.”

  Jake put a hand on his shoulder. “Okay now. We’ve got tables to bus.” Robbie headed back to work. Ally and Jake exchanged a smile. He lowered his voice. “What happened?”

  “My fiancé…ex-fiancé…ran off with some twenty-four-year-old…” Ally said. Jake noticed that she started to tag on a noun and then thought better of it.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “He also cleaned out our business account,” Ally continued, “so I’m pretty much broke. Thank goodness for credit cards.” Jake looked over to a booth by the window where a young woman was sitting alone, a stack of papers spread out in front of her. She was making notes on one of them.

  “You should talk to Frannie,” he said.

  “Frannie Lane?”

  “That’s right,” Jake said. “You know her?” Ally still was able to surprise him.

  “Your mom mentioned her this morning.”

  Jake nodded to the booth where the attorney was working. “Well, she’s right over there.”

  …

  Ally liked Frannie Lane immediately. She was smart and funny, though not exactly encouraging. Ally thought she might even be someone she’d like to hang out with if she wasn’t so consumed with her crumbling life.

  “It sounds like the money was just as much his as yours,” Frannie said. “A joint account holder has equal rights. Unless you have a contract that says otherwise.” Ally shrugged. She didn’t. “So, you must have really trusted him,” Frannie said. Ally appreciated that she didn’t say it in a judgmental way, but it still stung.

  “Oh yeah,” Ally said. Her pulse quickened. “I trusted that piece of…” She stopped herself, took a deep breath. Breathe, she told herself. Breathe your ass off.

  “You can call him a piece of shit,” Frannie said. “I think you’ve earned it.”

  And for the next ten minutes, Frannie the lawyer became Ally’s shrink. Ally hit her with both barrels, letting it all hang out. When she finally wound down, she was drained and exhausted and felt like her well of emotion was pretty much dry.

  “I loved him,” Ally said. “And he said he loved me. He said it was forever, that I was the love of his life. I trusted Tim, and he took me like some heartless con artist, like I was just a clueless mark. The bastard stole more than my money and trust. He took my future, and I just feel this…indescribable rage. I used to watch Dateline and all those shows where one partner kills the other, and I’d think, how could someone murder someone they once loved? But, you know what, Frannie? If Tim were here now, and I had a gun…they’d be locking me up in the Bethlehem jail, ’cause I’d put a bullet right between his lying eyes.” Ally dropped her head to the table. “I’m not serious. I could never kill someone. But I think I could wound him. Maybe shoot him in the ass.”

  Frannie smiled. “I’d say it was self-defense.”

  Ally sat back up. “Thank you, Frannie. So, what do you suggest I do?”

  “Well, what do you want to do?” Frannie asked.

  “I think I should try to get home as soon as possible,” Ally said. “Maybe I can rent a car and drive to Denver, catch a flight back to L.A.”

  “And what do you think that would accomplish?” Frannie asked. “It’s the holidays. I’m sure all the offices are closed. Everybody’s on vacation. And, even if they were open, who would you see?”

  Ally thought for a moment. She wasn’t sure. “I just don’t feel like I should be here,” she said. “I feel like I should be doing something.”

  “Well,” Frannie said, “this may be one of those moments where you take a deep breath and just ride it out.”

  “Ride it out? Everything I’ve built is in jeopardy of going away.” Ally picked up a paper napkin and started to tear it slowly and methodically into narrow strips. Frannie gave her a moment, didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get back to her papers. “I need to do everything I can to get that money back,” Ally said. “Or I’m screwed. It’s all I have.”

  Ally thought about her house on Bay Street in Santa Monica. She made a mental note to call her neighbor Connie and ask her to use the hide-a-key to check on things. Was it possible that Tim just waited until Ally left for the airport and then came and cleared everything out? Had his escape been planned for days? Weeks? She suddenly felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. She had a little safe in the closet of the bedroom. There was maybe a thousand in cash in there, and a few pieces of her late grandmother Helen’s jewels. There was also a ring that she especially cherished. Would Tim have really stooped that low? Ally searched her mind for a bright side and found a tiny flicker. Even though Tim had likely wiped out all her assets, at least she had her studio with the rent paid up for the next couple of months. She was still in business. For the time being, anyway.

  Frannie promised to make a call to Ally’s bank, and then said she had an attorney friend in Los Angeles who she would reach out to. Ally got up, shook the lawyer’s hand, thanked her for the advice, and told Jake she was going to head back to Peggy’s. She was a little disappointed when he didn’t ask her to work a shift. She enjoyed waiting tables at the diner. If for no other reason, it occupied her mind, kept her from thinking about the fast-sinking ship known as her life. She lingered for a moment, said goodbye to Libby, Robbie, and Louie while Jake busied himself at the register.

  “Well, I guess I’ll see you later,” she said to Jake as she headed for the door.

  “Hey, Ally?” She turned back as he closed the register. “I’ll walk you back.”

  Chapter Nine

  “I haven’t walked this much in a long time,” Ally said. She and Jake were now walking what was quickly becoming, for Ally, a familiar route between Charlie’s and Peggy’s. “I mean, people don’t walk much in L.A.” Ally looked over at him and wondered what was on his mind. What does he think of me? she thought. Really. And what do I think of him? I am officially fiancé free now, but do I really want an instant rebound? Especially one who thinks yoga is hooey and hates big cities. Be realistic, Allison. You and Jake grew up on different planets. It would never work.

  It dawned on Ally that she and Tim had been coupled for so long, she’d forgotten what it felt like to be single. Suddenly Single, Ally thought. Isn’t that a sitcom?

  As they passed Bethlehem Bank & Trust, Ally mentally reviewed the disastrous twenty-four hours she’d just lived through. She chewed on her lower lip, something she always did when deep in thought. She was a little startled when Jake spoke.

  “I heard about the letter,” he said. “From your…fiancé. Ex-fiancé, I guess.”

  “Wait,” Ally said. “How’d you…?” She smiled. “Your mom?”

  Jake nodded. “She called as soon as you left the house. Said it was pretty brutal.”

  Ally just looked straight ahead. “Yeah.” She puffed out a burst of white breath vapor into the cold air. “You know,” she said, “that letter would be hilarious if it wasn’t so pathetic—if it didn’t destroy my life.”

  “So, do you think he was planning this all along?” Jake asked. Ally stopped and put a hand on his arm. She looked at him, her mind racing, dancing across the last few weeks and months, searching for clues to the Tim mystery puzzle. Finally, she closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. When she opened them, Jake was watching her, a curious look on his handsome face.

  “I think so,” she said. “Now, I remember…about three months ago, we had this anniversary dinner—to celebrate being in business together seven years.” Ally flashed back in her mind to the mid-September celebration. They were sitting at a romantic, candlelit table-for-two in the Belvedere Restaurant at The Peninsula Hotel in Beverly Hills. She could see Tim’s face, hear his exact words.

  “Honey, I’ve been thinking,
and I think it’s time I took a little bit of the pressure off you. You’ve been doing so much for so long. I need to start doing my part. Why don’t you let me take over the financial end? I’ll pay the bills, the rent, payroll, all that sort of thing.”

  Ally remembered being a little thrown off by the suggestion. It seemed so out of the blue. But then Tim reached across the table and took her hand, told her how much he loved her, and how he couldn’t wait to be her husband. So, she’d just smiled and said, “sounds good.”

  Ally searched her mind further, trying to remember the first time she met Brooke. Yes, she thought, Brooke started coming to class late that summer, sometime in August. It all makes sense. Perfect sense. Ally continued walking with Jake, slowly shaking her head as all the mental puzzle pieces fell into pathetic place.

  “You’re right, Jake. It was a conspiracy, and I can’t believe I fell for it.” Jake stopped, and Ally realized they were back outside Peggy’s. She’d scarcely been conscious of the distance, the cold, the swirling snow. A text came from her neighbor Connie. Ally stopped to read it.

  Sorry, Ally. All of Tim’s things are gone. The safe was open. The jewels are still there, but the cash is missing.

  Ally looked from the text to Jake. She ground her teeth, steaming in a mixture of rage and relief. The asshole had taken the cash but left the jewels. “I don’t know what to do,” she said. “But I have to get out of here. I have to get back to L.A. and do something. Anything. Can you help me? I need help.”

  “Of course,” Jake said. “Whatever you need.” Ally felt a little bad for him. He was just trying to be a nice guy, and now he’d inherited her pitiful drama.

  “I think I can get a flight from Denver,” Ally said. “Flights should be fine heading west. I know the airport’s going to be crazy, but it’s worth a try.” Jake nodded. “I just know I’m going to go stark raving mad if I stay here. If I get the flight, do you think you could drive me to the airport? I know it’s a long drive, but I’ll pay for gas, and—”

  “No problem,” Jake said before she could finish her thought. “Just let me know when.”

  …

  “Ally, there you are!” Noel lit up when she saw Ally step into the kitchen. It was as if she hadn’t seen her in a week. Peggy was there, too, and there were baking supplies spread out all over the center island. “Peggy’s teaching me to make mincemeat pie,” Noel said. “Did you know there’s not actually meat in it?” Ally managed a half smile. It was December 21st, and day two of her crisis was starting out even worse than Day 1, and she could no longer fake a good mood.

  “You could join us,” Peggy said. “We really are having a lot of fun.” The radio was playing Christmas tunes. In Ally’s moment of intense stress, the familiar songs sounded like nails on a chalkboard. Noel and Peggy were both decked out in bright and cheery Christmassy aprons. Boy, would I love to just chuck it all and join you, she thought.

  “I can’t right now,” Ally said. “I have a little crisis at the office I need to figure out.”

  “Is it related to the Tim letter?” Noel asked.

  Ally sighed. “Sort of.” She really didn’t feel like rehashing all the pathetic details. “You guys go ahead. I need to make some calls.”

  …

  “Ms. Henderson, I’m afraid your card didn’t go through,” the airline ticket agent said over the phone. At least the woman’s voice was pleasant. “Do you have another card?” Ally stared at the credit card in her hand. It was a company card that said Yogi Village on it with Ally’s name underneath. She checked the expiration date. It wasn’t due to expire for another three years.

  “Maybe I didn’t say the number right,” Ally said. She gave her the number again.

  “Sorry,” the agent said. “It was rejected again.” Ally closed her eyes and tried to calm her thoughts. One of Tim’s “new responsibilities” was to pay the credit cards each month. Why is this happening to me? Ally thought. She looked at the ceiling. Did I piss somebody off up there?

  “If you have another card…?” the airline employee repeated.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t,” Ally said. “Thank you for your time.” Ally hung up before the ticket agent could say another word. She flung the credit card across the room at the dresser mirror. “You asshole!” she shouted so loudly she wondered if Noel and Peggy could hear her downstairs in the kitchen. She was trapped. She couldn’t even get a flight out.

  She was stuck in Bethlehem.

  “Are you kidding me?” Ally flopped back on the bed and started to cry. Her life had been flipped on its head, and she felt as helpless as a baby chick in a lion’s cage. She imagined Tim and Brooke sitting on some beach, sipping fruity drinks with mini-umbrellas. Brooke was in a string bikini, Tim in board shorts. They were holding hands, lounging side-by-side in bamboo beach chairs, looking out at the clear blue water, toes dug in the warm, white sand. She closed her eyes and could almost see them basking in the tropical sun.

  Tim, baby, will you rub some lotion on my shoulders?

  Of course, my Brooke-let. Do you feel at all guilty about what we did to Ally?

  Not at all, lover. She’ll be fine.

  “Uggggh!” Ally flipped over and slammed her fist into a pillow and watched Penelope Pinkenstein fall off the bed.

  …

  Jake loved the feel of an ax handle in his hand. He loved the motion of swinging it, bringing the blade down dead center in a chunk of log. He loved it when it ripped straight and true with just one swing. It was therapeutic, and pretty good exercise to boot. Chopping wood took his mind off things he didn’t want to think about. Christmas Eve was just days away. Christmas Eve. The night he proposed in the snow, the night he pledged his heart to the love of his life. Christmas Eve. It had always been his favorite night of the year, their favorite night. And now he dreaded that evening like no other. That’s when his memories of her were sharpest, when she came to him, and he relived her painful last moments again and again. If only he could erase December 24th from the calendar.

  He had come home to help out when his dad got sick. It was only supposed to be temporary, then it was back to New York and business and lots of money and success. He was a Harvard grad, and that’s what Harvard grads do. That was the life he trained for, the life he thought was his to live. He never expected Charlie to die. He always thought his old man was indestructible.

  After the funeral, he agreed to stay a little longer, long enough to get Charlie’s ready to sell. But Jake hadn’t counted on how much he loved working at the diner, how good it felt to continue his dad’s legacy. He hadn’t counted on reconnecting with Kate again. Yes, there was Kate. He had tried to convince himself that the love he had for her was a thing of the past, but when he saw her, when she took his hand and told him how sorry she was about his father, Jake knew. He knew how much he missed that touch, how much he missed her. He knew that his first love was alive and well and living in Bethlehem, and he needed her. He knew then he couldn’t leave her again. He knew that her small-town dreams would become his, for he never wanted to spend another day without Kate by his side.

  When he lost Kate, Jake felt as if life had dealt him a blow so cruel that the bruise would never heal. He’d lost his dad and his love a year apart, and his dreams had been blown out like a candle. He decided then that he would live on his own the life he’d planned to live with Kate. He’d stay in Bethlehem and try to make her proud. He’d carry on her simple small-town dream. He felt he owed it to her.

  And he was doing just that until the day fate threw him a curveball. The Blizzard Blast took a turn, socked in the eastern seaboard, and brought Ally to Bethlehem and into his life.

  As Jake cut into the wood and tried to push the memories away, thoughts of Ally floated into his mind. He felt a little guilty. This was supposed to be his season of mourning. It felt somehow wrong to be thinking of another. She’s all wrong for you, he told himself. Big city and little town don’t mix. He turned his mind to more mundane matters. According to
the weather guys, it was going to snow Christmas Eve and then temps would drop into the teens on Christmas Day. He figured he needed at least a half-cord of wood, split three ways between himself, his mother, and his sister to get through the holidays.

  He heard her before he saw her.

  “Now, that’s something you never see in L.A.” Jake had just split a log clean in two. He turned toward the voice and saw Ally. She looked cute in a lavender parka, a white beanie, and yoga pants. He took his ax and drove it into the chopping block, then peeled off his work gloves.

  “I guess not,” he said. “How are you?”

  Ally shrugged and moved closer to him. “About as bad as could be expected.”

  “You get your plane ticket?” Jake asked.

  “No. For some reason they won’t let you buy a ticket when you haven’t paid your credit card bill for three months. The airlines are so unreasonable.”

  Jake shook his head. “That guy really screwed you over, huh?” He could see that Ally had been crying.

  “So, I just came over to say thank you for offering to drive me. That was really gentlemanly of you. But, obviously, I won’t be needing the ride.”

  “You’re welcome,” Jake said. “It’s too bad. I have a pretty amazing road trip mix.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Ally said. “I’d like to hear that for myself someday.” Jake felt himself blush. Even in her crisis, she was still charming. “So, I just spoke to my mother.”

  “And how’d that go?” Jake asked.

  Ally launched into a play-by-play of the conversation with her mother, imitating her mother’s voice in a Julia Child falsetto, making Jake wonder if her mom really sounded like that.

  Allison, I hate to say this, but I think we need to call off the wedding.

  Do you really think so, Mom? How did you come to that conclusion?

  Well, it appears Tim is gone for good.

  I was being sarcastic, Mom. Of course we should call off the wedding. There’s no groom.