“It’ll be right up,” she answered. “I’ll bring you some coffee while you wait. It’s wicked cold today.”
The radio station was interspersing holiday songs with their regular playlist, and Charlie caught herself tapping her toe to a country version of “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town.” “Not to be corny,” she suggested, “but it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas around here.”
He nodded. “I know. Now that the tree’s up in the square, every single window is lit up and decorated. I mean, a lot of stuff went up right after Thanksgiving, but it’s a full-court press now.”
She smiled, waited while Linda poured their coffee, and then replied as she added milk to her cup. “So, are you a Santa or a Scrooge?” she asked.
He grinned. “Maybe a little of both. Sometimes it can get to be a bit much. The hoopla and the crowds and how it can all seem like a competition. But then there are other things I like about it too. We always had good Christmases growing up. There wasn’t always a lot of money to go around, but with the five of us there was always something fun. There was always a new board game every Christmas, and sports equipment. One year the three of us boys all got new baseball gloves. We took them outside to play and I swear I couldn’t feel my fingers when I came back in, they were so cold. We used to have New Year’s Eve movie nights too, with all of us crowded around the TV and my mom would make popcorn and Kool-Aid. It was the only time we were ever allowed to stay up past midnight.”
“That sounds so fun. It was only me at home, so the only time anything like that happened was if I had a friend over, or went to their house.”
“And that didn’t happen very often?”
She shook her head. “Not really. My parents always threw a Christmas Eve cocktail party. It was not really … kid friendly. And they went out for New Year’s, and I had a sitter until I was old enough to stay alone.” She shrugged.
“Wow. You missed out on a lot.”
She shrugged again. “It was what it was.”
Linda came back bearing two huge plates of food. “Oh my word,” Charlie exclaimed, but the aroma was so good that her mouth was already watering. “That smells so good, Linda.”
“You just holler if you need anything else. I’ll be back with dessert and more coffee in a bit.”
The café was starting to fill up now, the lunch regulars filtering in, rubbing their hands together to keep warm. The tunes on the radio were drowned out by conversation as Charlie and Dave dipped into their meals. Gus, the main cook at the café, hadn’t let them down. Charlie’s meatloaf was moist and flavorful, the potatoes smooth, the carrots sweetened with just a hint of something.
“If I could cook like Gus, I’d never eat out,” Charlie admitted. “I do okay in the kitchen, but the guy is a master of comfort food.”
“I agree. His crab cakes are almost as good as my mother’s.” Dave dipped a piece of turkey in cranberry sauce and popped it in his mouth. “And this sauce is not from a can.”
“I think Gus would rather die than cook anything that wasn’t from scratch.” Charlie laughed. “So, what are your plans for this Christmas?”
It was a simple, harmless question but it dampened the good mood considerably. “I haven’t decided. I need to talk to Janice about that. I’m sure they have plans. “
“Plans that don’t include you?”
He smiled. “That might be awkward. I’m just, well, at loose ends a bit. Missing my family. So.” He lightened his voice and smiled down at the baby, who was surprisingly content. “Our Baby Jesus. Still no sign of the Virgin Mary.”
“Or Joseph,” Charlie added, letting the matter of Christmas drop. “I honestly thought someone would have come forward by now.”
“I’m thinking someone would have to be in a pretty bad situation to abandon their kid.”
“Well, I’m sure we’ll hear something soon.” She met his gaze. “I think he’s very lucky we happened by at that moment. It couldn’t have been planned any better. I mean, the night of the tree lighting. Everyone in the square for a good hour or more, and then tons of foot traffic. It was almost as if whoever left him wanted him to be found.”
What she said sank in and they stared at each other. Maybe the manger wasn’t that random after all. “I’m sure the police have thought of that.” Dave nodded at her. “But you’re right. I mean … remember what you said about that case you handled? Someone trying to…” his voice tightened, “… dispose of a baby wouldn’t put him in a church manger on the busiest night of the season. Know what I mean?”
Charlie swirled the last bite of meatloaf in rich gravy. “Right. They’d put him somewhere he wouldn’t be found.”