Key to Christmas

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Key to Christmas Page 5

by Marlene Bierworth


  “I’m glad Christmas only comes twice a year in Cedar Springs. I overindulge every time. Can’t seem to help myself,” Pam said. She bit off a corner of the cream-filled, blueberry pastry savoring the taste.

  John devoured a man-sized bite, and soft goo squeezed out from all sides and overflowed his mouth. He created quite a messy spectacle. Pam laughed at the sight. Reaching across the table, she dabbed at the corners of his lips with a napkin and for her efforts, received an upsetting sensation in return. He experienced it too, for their eyes locked and John studied her emotions, fully exposed to his perceptive view. She felt betrayed once again, with her inability to keep her guard up. This man appeared to have free access into her heart, mind, and soul.

  Pam attempted humor to shift her embarrassment. “So, John Doe. You think you have me all figured out?”

  “Only scratching the surface, my lady. But I hope you’re powerful itchy and continue to let me scrape away that tough exterior,” he said, his eyes never leaving her face.

  “Okay…” Pam inhaled deeply. “So what else would you like to do today, besides eat?”

  “So we’re a twosome, are we?” he asked.

  “This is the twenty-first century. A girl can assume such forwardness. Besides, I could grow old waiting on a man who doesn’t even know his own mind.”

  Pam said it in fun, but John grew serious. “And that doesn’t bother you?”

  “It makes you all the more a mystery, and it so happens, this weekend I am up for the challenge.”

  “Glad to hear that – I think.” He glanced off to the side and his expression distorted. I followed his gaze and saw Denise talking with the new baker and a customer.

  “That’s the woman who is bent on adding inches onto the waists of unsuspecting customers,” Pam said in a playful tone.

  “Yes, the new baker,” John said soberly.

  Pam glanced back at him. John stared at the trio with unmasked scrutiny. “What’s the matter? Seen a ghost, or do you still have that compulsion to try your hand at baking?”

  “Perhaps,” he said. “Think I’ll mosey on over there and introduce myself – in a matter of speaking. The name John Doe is kind-of growing on me.”

  Pam watched as Denise introduced her employee to John. The woman was pleasingly plump like you’d expect all bakers should be, her chestnut hair swept into a bun under a net, but it was her facial features that held one spellbound. Her large, brown eyes concentrated entirely on the man, and her smile broadcasted, I am listening. Undivided attention was a noble quality not too many people mastered or extended to their fellow man these days.

  Pam observed the trio – the concentration of the two engrossed in conversation and the obvious boredom of her excluded friend. Denise glanced toward the table and shrugged her shoulders. Denise headed Pam’s way.

  “Well, I think I lost Cassie for a few minutes. Your man has captured her full attention.”

  Pam grinned at her constant reference to John as her man. “Did they know one another? That would be a stroke of luck for John.”

  “Not sure. If Cassie does, then she’s beating around the bush with all kinds of questions that John can’t answer.” She grabbed Pam’s cup and took a drink. “Oh, that tastes good.”

  “You’re welcome,” Pam said. She looked back to the counter and gasped. “They’re gone!”

  “Who?” Denise turned in her chair. “Huh? Maybe Cassie took John into the kitchen. He was showing interest in her recipes, and I have told her to be friendly to the customers. Although she’s probably carrying it too far, inviting the public into her workspace. The health department might have some objections.”

  “Maybe John really is a cook or baker, and she’s trying to trigger a memory,” Pam suggested. Part of her wanted John to move forward in his personal quest for his identity, but a selfish part desired to keep him as John Doe, at least for the duration of the weekend. It apparently showed.

  Denise beamed. “Pamela Legend! What’s that I see, hope or despair? Not wanting to share your new friend with his past yet? I knew it!”

  The blush had not left Pam’s face when John reappeared and headed straight for the door. His anger was easy to read. He never glanced sideways – as if he’d forgotten that he’d come in with Pam.

  Pam sighed. “So much for your hopeful notion of my John. It appears he doesn’t even remember our plans for the day, or me for that matter.”

  Denise patted Pam’s hand. “Go after the man. He looks like he could use a friend.” As she departed, she squealed, “mysteries are so exhilarating!”

  Pam could think of another descriptive word for John’s behavior. She stood and hurried toward the door.

  Outside, Pam blinked as the sunlight blinded her momentarily. She scanned the street to the right and left. No sign of John. Defeated, she strolled again, and as luck would have it, she saw John’s head buried behind a book as she passed by the library. Pam squinted and read the title – Legends. A smile erupted. She remembered the message included with the ornament gift from the North Pole and decided she could use some enlightenment in legends herself. She pushed open the door and walked the short distance to the table where John sat.

  “Here you are,” Pam said. “Did you plan on deserting me for the entire day? You could give a girl a complex, you know, since I was the one who invited you out today.”

  “Like to read?” he asked without glancing up. “This stuff is fascinating.”

  “Did Cassie send you here? You came from the back kitchen so angry and set on a mission. I feared for you, and then you just rushed on by like you forgot I existed.”

  John pulled her down onto the seat next to him. He gripped both hands and held her frozen within his puzzling search for something beyond the surface. He spoke low and direct. Pam found her heart fluttering with every word.

  “Pamela Legend. You mean everything to me. Surely you see that. I need to offer you a whole man, not half a man. You have been a leading light in this dark place inside my brain and the main reason I need to get to sort this out.”

  “You’re wrong there. You need to be the main reason. A person can’t truly care for another until they feel complete in their own skin.”

  “Who thinks like that? See why I care for you.” John arched his brows and winked. “I believe you’re beginning to like me, Doctor Legend.”

  “You are insufferable! You’ve got two hours here, that’s it.” Pam grabbed a book. “What are you reading? Might as well join in the research.”

  The time passed quickly, and Pam jumped when her phone tinged. It was Denise. The text read: Where are you? The play is about to start.

  Pam jumped to her feet. “Time’s up, John. If we don’t hurry, someone will nab the seats Denise and Tom are saving for us.”

  “It’s the Christmas story of Jesus, right?” John asked holding up the one book called, Nativity, that he’d already devoured.

  “That would be the one.”

  The couple dropped into their reserved spots, out of breath from rushing, and just time to watch the heavy stage curtain open. For Pam, the portrayal of God’s gift of unconditional love in the form of baby Jesus always touched a place in her heart. It had been the one part of the holiday permitted by her father, and only because his wife insisted. Pam had clung to the tradition for it supplied something that she lacked – unreserved love. Now, if only that divine intervention would transfer into her physical life, in the form of a husband, her happiness would be complete.

  Pam glanced at John several times throughout the presentation and watched as his keen interest kept him alert and drinking in the ultimate miracle of Christmas. When it was over, a huge smile covered his face.

  “I think I know Him,” John said. “My heart responded naturally to His story.”

  “You mean the same one that plays tunes for heartbeats? I’m sorry I missed it. Where’s a girl’s stethoscope when she needs it?”

  “Smarty! Yes, you did miss it, Doc. But I think this parti
cular melody was meant for my ears alone.”

  “Good. At least we’re on the same page as far as believing in the true meaning of the season,” Pam said.

  John appeared ready for more. He jumped to his feet. “What next? This day just keeps getting better.”

  “Stacy’s Christmas tree farm is selling trees. Let’s get one for your tiny storage room so you can enjoy it this weekend.”

  “Okay. Lead the way.”

  George Stacy had his display set up in the Center’s parking lot. John grabbed her hand, and they raced into the spectacular land of trees the owner had created, complete with fake snow on the ground and sprinkled across the branches.

  “Wow! How’s a guy to choose?”

  Pam tugged him closer to a small display. “I think you should look for a miniature one that we can place on your night table.”

  He felt the needles and leaned in to get a whiff of its scent. “But these are fake. They don’t smell like anything outdoorsy.”

  “We can spray them with a pine scent. The others are far too big for the cubby space you call home. You need to compromise with me here.” Pam sounded firm, and although John did not look pleased, he reluctantly agreed. She tried to encourage him. “You can come to my apartment and smell my real tree later tonight. Maybe have some eggnog and then we can dream a few dreams together – if you’d like?”

  “This date keeps getting better.”

  “You are like a kid in a candy store today.”

  “Candy canes! Little ones for my tree! I can get those at Denise’s Christmas store, right?” John asked.

  “You can.”

  “Well, let’s get to buying.” John stopped, and Pam nearly collided with him. “I don’t have money for the tree let alone candy canes! I need to get a job.”

  “My treat. Merry Christmas, John.”

  “I’ve done nothing but leech off you and your friends since I got to Cedar Springs.” He appeared disheartened with that idea.

  “That attitude only proves you are not normally a freeloader.”

  Pam purchased the small tree and John carried it proudly to the shelter. They stretched the branches out fully and created a bushy little evergreen then placed it where John would see it best when cooped up inside the tiny room.

  “Perfect,” Pam said.

  “Not so. I need decorations.”

  “I have extras in my storage tote at home. I always buy more than I need. Even the largest tree on Stacy’s lot could not hold them all.”

  “Promise to return them all next week,” John said. “By December I’ll have a place of my own and a job, hopefully.”

  “So you’re planning on staying?” Pam asked.

  “Where else would I go? I know people in this town. Especially you. And I’m not quite ready to give up on us yet.”

  Pam was happy to hear that. “I’m not either. Let’s go get those candy canes and grab a late lunch. I’m starved.”

  “The next show starts at seven. I’m up for seeing the jolly man in red tumbling around on stage.” John puffed his belly out and laughed. “I’ll be able to audition to play the Santa role next year if I keep eating all this rich food you’re jamming down my throat.”

  “Me, jam it down your throat? I think you are just as guilty as I. Besides, Tuesday is coming, and the doctor in me will think healthy then, maybe.”

  Back at the Christmas store, they picked up a package of twelve small candy canes for John’s tree. Afterward, they sat at the café and munched on a Mediterranean salad and warm rolls. While conversing, Pam caught a movement to the side, and she saw the baker watching them from behind the swinging kitchen doors.

  “That baker, Cassie, is the nosy sort, isn’t she?” Pam asked hoping to root out his inner thoughts.

  When John looked toward Pam, she saw a shadow flash across his face. John fought to maintain his good mood. “Suppose so.”

  “You never told me what you talked about earlier. Or is it a secret?”

  Pam was not expecting his response. “Yeah, a secret.”

  “Oh,” she said filling, her mouth with the last bite of her bread and looking away disappointed.

  “You’re upset that I’m not telling all my progress, aren’t you?” John said.

  “I suppose I am. Sort of got involved from the get-go, and hoped to see you through to the end of this memory challenge – if that’s what you’re secret is all about. If not, I apologize. It’s none of my business, anyway.”

  “I recognized her,” he finally muttered. “Somewhere behind one of those locked doors my mind her face is clear. She never confirmed it for me. Got me wondering why she’s being so secretive and watching me like a hawk.” He jumped from his seat. “Be right back.”

  In a few minutes, he returned, dragging the woman with him. “Pam, this is Cassie, with no last name.” He turned to the embarrassed woman. “And this is my dearest friend in Cedar Springs, Dr. Pamela Legend.”

  Pam stood and held out her hand in greeting. Cassie barely touched hers, and the woman appeared uncomfortable. But in the brief contact, Pam had felt a chill, like someone walked over her grave.

  “I talked her into joining us.”

  Cassie held a cup of hot chocolate and slid onto a third chair at the table. Now the threesome silently scrutinized one another, the atmosphere steaming with awkwardness.

  “Cassie, I need to compliment you on your baking skills and thank you for the wonderful asset you’ve become to my friend’s café. Your treats are the talk of the town.” Cassie’s face lit up.

  The woman blushed. “Christmas recipes are my specialty. I may lose popularity after this weekend – that is if I stay.”

  “You just arrived,” Pam said. “Why would you consider leaving already? Even our forgetful John here is debating staying on.”

  A shocked expression covered Cassie’s face. “No,” she blurted out without thinking. Her tone softened as she tried to smooth over her initial response. “Not that I have any say over what John does with his life. Me, I’m free to go wherever the wind takes me.”

  “Is that a personal choice, or does your career dictate you move around?” Pam asked.

  “Oh, a little of both. You might say it’s my destiny.” Cassie looked Pam straight in the eye for the first time. “What about you, dear? Have you always lived here?”

  “No. I spent my childhood in the south. My parents are both dead, so I moved here for a change of scenery.”

  Cassie gasped. Pam suspected her tone was not merely concern for a stranger, but had nothing to base her impression on. “Dead! I am sorry to hear that – I think.”

  What? Did she hear that last part right? Cassie had mumbled it and Pam was not in the mood, or up for the challenge, to decipher her meaning. She now understood how Cassie might have angered John earlier. That lady needed to work on her people-skills.

  John covered Pam’s hand with his, and she felt his empathy soar through her. “Not to worry, Cassie. I suppose that makes us both alone in the world. Two lonely hearts…”

  The woman came to life. “Yes, and I happen to know a matchmaker who specializes in lonely hearts all year long – but especially at Christmas.”

  Pam grinned. “Christmas gives one the feeling that miracles abound.”

  Cassie glanced at John. “This summer event in particular.”

  Pam looked at Cassie’s hand and saw it shook, even while she gripped the mug with fierce intensity and stared at John with a strange emphasis.

  “I need to go. I should not be here.” This time Cassie cast a sideways glance at Pam. “Though I don’t know how it can hurt anymore. The rules are all changing.” She shuffled to her feet and gripped the table. “I apologize. Please enjoy your meal. I will pray that you both fulfill your destiny.”

  Pam watched after her. Something about the way she spoke those final words took residence in her heart but left her filled with confusion how it would unfold in her life. Instead of returning to the kitchen, Cassie left the building.
Pam turned toward John to see a broad smile spread across his face.

  “Challenged the woman to a confrontation. She didn’t want to come over and visit with us, but I won her over. I think I seem to possess the power of persuasion with the opposite sex. What do you think?”

  Pam laughed. “And in the time it takes for a frown to turn to a smile, the teaser has returned to torment me.”

  He became solemn. “My intentions, dear lady, were never to torment. But, I must admit, the tease flows from my mouth naturally.”

  “I don’t mind. Keeps me on my toes.” Pam nodded toward the door. “Wonder where she’s off to, and if Denise knows her employee just walked out the door.”

  “What employee?” Denise said as she overheard Pam’s remark while talking to patrons at another table nearby.

  “Cassie, the baker. She came over and spoke to us, but we think she left befuddled.”

  “That’s her normal state,” Denise said. “A different sort she is. But she is all about Christmas, and that’s what I need from my workers. So, I put up with her oddities. I don’t mind her taking a break. She rarely does. Such dedication is scarce.”

  “Somehow the woman inspired John this morning to research Christmas Legends – all of them. We spent hours rummaging through books. As a result, we are well-versed in the history of Christmas, both Christian and folklore.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. In the end, people always tend to see things Cassie’s way. A gift she comes by magically. She always leaves me befuddled on how she persuades me to do her bidding. I usually have a mind of my own and don’t appreciate meddlesome people to alter my direction.”

  From the corner of her eye, Pam spotted the woman peeking out from behind the swinging doors: Out one door and in the other – all in a matter of five minutes.

  “It appears Cassie does not take long breaks. She’s back,” Pam said. John and Denise both turned, and the snoopy woman retreated back into her kitchen and disappeared from sight.

 

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