CHAPTER NINE
“Where to next?” Lindy asked.
“How about some cocoa and a hot doughnut?” They both could do with a bit of warmth in their stomachs.
“I could do with coffee.”
While Lindy glanced through the window into the hat store, Billy went for coffee. There were easily twenty to thirty people waiting for a chance to get inside the tiny shop to try on their unique caps, hoods, and bonnets.
He joined her and they were fortunate enough to find a space to sit on the lip that circled the town fountain. At her first sip, Lindy blinked back tears. “My goodness, this is strong. It’s a defibrillator in a cup.”
“I thought that’s what my kiss was.”
She smiled as she lowered her gaze to the steaming disposable cup. “Yes, that, too.”
“Knew it.”
Men and their egos! It felt wonderful to laugh and smile again. If she did happen to run into Brian and Celeste a second time, she wouldn’t care. This afternoon with Billy was exactly what her heart needed.
After they finished their coffee, Billy took her hand and led her to the Santa house.
“You know this really isn’t necessary, don’t you?” she said, feeling more than a little silly.
“I think it is.”
Seeing that Billy insisted, Lindy decided to play along. It didn’t hurt that she’d recently written Santa a letter, as childish as that might seem. Listing the very things her heart desired had been freeing, especially after reading those early letters she’d penned as a girl.
As they stood in line, Lindy watched Santa with the children. He had the patience of a saint, taking time with each one and listening intently as they reviewed their Christmas wishes. When it was her turn, Santa didn’t bat an eye. He held out his hand, welcoming her to join him, and then patted his knee.
“Hello, Santa,” she said, smiling at the older man. His white beard was authentic, and he had a twinkle in his eye. Lindy felt ridiculous, as she was the only adult waiting for her turn with the big guy. One of the children in line pointed at her.
“She’s too old for Santa,” he announced, with righteous indignation.
Santa wagged his finger at the child. “No one is ever too old for Santa,” he told the little boy.
He turned and focused his attention on Lindy. With an encouraging smile, he said, “Ah yes, I’ve been waiting for you.”
“Really?” she said, teasing him.
His dark eyes grew serious, as though her doubt had offended him. “I have, Lindy.”
He knew her name, but she suspected Santa must have heard Billy say it. From having observed him earlier, she could see he was sharper than other men who stepped into the role.
“Have you been a good girl this year?” Santa asked.
“Absolutely,” she said, having a difficult time not giggling. “The very best.”
“I’m happy to hear that. Now, what would you like Santa to bring you?”
“Didn’t you get my letter?” she teased.
“I’m sure one of my elves has placed it on my desk. I promise I’ll read it once I return to the North Pole.” He sounded sincere, and she found that rather endearing.
“Good, because it’s a heartfelt list.”
“I’m sure it is, and I promise to read it soon. But since you’re with me now, why don’t you tell me what’s on your list this year.”
As she visited with Santa, Billy was busy taking photo after photo, moving from one part of the room to another, taking a dozen or more pictures of her on Santa’s knee. He seemed to find this amusing, and she let him have his fun. Billy had done everything to make this day special, and she wanted him to know how much she appreciated his efforts.
Seeing her time with Santa was about to end, Lindy said, “Before I go, I want you to know that when I was six, I asked for a little sister, but you sent me a brother instead. I forgive you, because Chad is the best little brother a big sister could ever want. So, thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m sure it was a mailroom error. The elves must have confused your letter with another youngster’s. That occasionally happens.”
Lindy hid a smile at how serious his apology was. “No worries, it turned out for the better.”
Santa grinned sheepishly.
“Also, I regret asking you to bring Billy Kincade coal. That was unkind of me.”
“Billy Kincade,” Santa slowly repeated the name as if testing his memory. “I do remember that young man. He was quite the rascal. I don’t suppose you know whatever became of him?”
She gestured across the room. “That’s him with the phone.”
“My, my, he’s grown into quite the fine young man. I’m happy to see you’ve resolved your differences.”
“We have,” she said, finding their conversation fun.
Santa handed her a candy cane, and she knew it was time to go.
“Thank you, Santa,” she said, and stood.
“You know,” Santa said, stopping her. His twinkling eyes held hers for an extralong moment. “That letter you recently wrote me.”
“Yes?”
“I’ll do my best to make sure all your wishes come true.” The smile had left, and once more he held her gaze for an extralong moment.
“Thank you,” she said, having trouble finding her voice.
Billy met her at the back of the line and asked, “What did Santa say as you were leaving?”
Now that Lindy thought about it, she found Santa’s parting words more than a little perplexing, as if he was serious…as if he was sincere. “He said what he does to everyone, I suppose, that he’d work on my Christmas wishes.”
Billy reached for her hand. “He looked…I don’t know, like he was about to ask you out on a date.”
Lindy laughed and leaned her head against his shoulder. “That’s hilarious.”
“Did you tell him your Christmas wish?”
“Not exactly. I told him I wrote him a letter.”
“I bet you didn’t ask for Rollerblades,” he teased.
“No, it was a bit…it was personal.”
“Got it. And Santa said he’d be working on it?”
“He did.” Lindy sincerely hoped he was right. She wanted to make it on her own in Seattle. She had a lot to prove to the team at Media Blast. As for the other items on her list, she’d leave that up to Santa.
The rest of the afternoon was perfect. They stopped by the independent bookstore, A Book for All Seasons, and Lindy bought an autographed copy by one of her favorite authors. Their next stop was the cheese store, and Billy picked up Brie from France to contribute to his sister’s Christmas dinner.
“Will you spend Christmas with Dede?” She assumed the restaurant would be closed on Christmas Day.
“That’s the plan for now.”
For now? He made it sound as if there might be a change in his plans. It made her wonder if he’d made other arrangements with another woman. A tinge of curiosity niggled in her mind until she reminded herself it shouldn’t matter. She would be returning to Seattle after the first of the year. This time together was a pleasant interlude and one her self-esteem badly needed, but they were both fully aware her time in Wenatchee was limited.
As they strolled along the way, the crowds swirled around them: the noise, laughter, and music, all part of the enchantment.
There was no shortage of interesting shops to visit, and before long it was time for their dinner reservation at Berghoff’s. They walked to the restaurant, hand in hand to keep them from being separated in the mingling crowd. Whatever the reason, Lindy enjoyed being linked to him.
The line into the restaurant progressed along, and soon they were at the check-in. The hostess collected their coats and led them across the room. As expected, every table was occupied, and the restaurant was hopping. A fire blazed from the rock-hewn fireplace, warming the room. Soft lighting created a cozy, if not romantic, atmosphere.
Once seated, they were handed menus. When their server appeared, Billy ordered a wine from a local winery, and within a short amount of time it was delivered to their table.
“Dan will be right over,” the server told Billy.
“Dan is the owner,” Billy explained. “He’s been a mentor to me for the last couple of years, plus being a good friend.”
“I look forward to meeting him.” Eating at Berghoff’s was a rare treat. Her family had never been able to get reservations, and Lindy hadn’t mentioned where Billy was taking her, in case it fell through at the last minute.
“Dan has relatives in Chicago,” Billy explained. “Their restaurant was one of the most notable in the city for any number of years. I had another restaurant in Yakima before coming to Wenatchee. Dan was instrumental in advising me when I came to him about opening the Wine Press. His family has been in the business for years. I appreciated his advice.”
Lindy vaguely remembered hearing about the relationship between the Chicago restaurant and the one in Leavenworth, some years ago, while in college.
“What happened to your restaurant in Yakima?” Lindy asked, wondering if he was managing more than the one in Wenatchee.
He didn’t answer right away, and looked relieved when Dan approached their table, leaving her to wonder what had happened in Yakima, as he didn’t seem to want to discuss it.
“Will, good to see you,” Dan said, as he stepped closer. Billy stood, and the two men briefly hugged. “Appreciate you squeezing us in tonight,” he said.
The restaurant owner was around fifty, if Lindy were to guess. He had a thick head of salt-and-pepper hair, warm blue eyes, and a well-trimmed beard. His smile was personable.
“Wednesday night wasn’t a huge problem. The weekend would have been impossible.” He reached for the wine bottle and opened it with an expert hand. He glanced toward Lindy.
Billy reached across the table and took her hand. “This is Lindy, the woman I mentioned earlier.”
“Ah yes,” Dan said, his gaze welcoming, revealing a bit of intrigue, as if he knew something she didn’t. “It’s a pleasure, Lindy.”
“It’s nice to meet you, and again, thank you for finding us a table for tonight.”
“My joy, sweet lady.”
Billy leaned forward, pressing his midsection against the table. In a stage whisper, he said, “I didn’t tell him about your letter to Santa.”
“What’s this about a letter?” Dan pried.
“What would you recommend off the menu?” Lindy asked, gently kicking Billy under the table.
“Ouch,” he cried, pretending she’d mortally wounded him. “It’s nothing,” he told his friend, and then added in another stage whisper, “I’ll tell you later.”
Dan laughed and turned his attention to Lindy. “I highly recommend the rouladen and the spätzle with purple cabbage. It’s one of our signature dishes. You can’t go wrong.”
“I’ve heard of spätzle, but not rouladen.”
“It’s thinly sliced beef, layered with bacon and sliced onion, and then rolled around a thick slice of pickle. Trust me, Lindy, you won’t be disappointed.”
“Then that’s what I’ll have.”
Lindy did well to have taken Dan’s word, as the dinner was everything she’d hoped it would be. They lingered over a dessert called donauwelle. Dan explained that it was basically pound cake flavored with vanilla. Then the top was filled with cherries, a thick layer of buttercream, along with a thin covering of chocolate ganache. Every bite was pure heaven. The meal was finished with a cup of decaf coffee.
Dan escorted them to the door once they were ready to leave and handed them their coats. He took Lindy’s hand and kissed it. “Meeting you was a delight,” he said.
“Hey, buddy,” Billy teased, “that’s my girl.”
His girl! Lindy couldn’t have hidden her smile if she’d tried.
“The French side of his family comes out every now and again,” Billy said, as he placed his arm around Lindy’s waist and steered her out the back entrance, where he’d parked the truck.
Billy helped her inside, then walked around the front. Once inside, he started the engine and let it warm up enough to clear the frost off the windshield.
“I had the most marvelous day,” Lindy told him, and it was the truth. Every aspect of their afternoon and evening had been simply wonderful. Even seeing Brian with Celeste hadn’t hampered her time. This day would be one she long treasured.
“I don’t want it to end,” Billy said.
“I don’t, either.”
“Good. Let’s stop off at the Wine Press. There’s a special ice wine I’d like you to taste. It’s a favorite of mine, and I think you’ll enjoy it, too.”
Ice wine would be a treat. The grapes could be harvested only in climates where temperatures dropped to below freezing. The grapes were kept on the vine to sweeten until the first frost of the season. They were then handpicked, generally in the dark of night, after the grapes had frozen. The excessively sweet wine wasn’t to everyone’s taste. Lindy happened to like it. The bottles were narrow and thin, and often expensive, due to the labor costs.
“I’d like that,” she said.
“It’ll give me a chance to check in with the night manager, too. It might be my day off, but I make a habit of checking in at some point during the day.”
The responsibility of being an owner/operator must weigh heavily on Billy. It told her he didn’t likely have time for a relationship, not with him working six days a week. Even on his day off, he ran interference. The restaurant was constantly on his mind, as it should be. Billy understood this could be only a holiday romance. She was of the same mind.
Even though it was after eight, the restaurant was busy; every seat at the bar was taken. Billy secured a table and left Lindy while he went to check in with the manager. When he returned, he had the bottle of ice wine and two special glasses that resembled miniature wineglasses.
He sat next to her and poured them each a small amount. “A little goes a long way with ice wine,” he said. Again, the wine was one from Washington State. Only northern climates had the necessary temperatures cold enough to produce ice wine.
“The Toronto area has some wonderful ice wines as well,” he said, as he gently clinked his glass against hers.
“What shall we toast?” Lindy asked.
“How about we toast to Santa.”
Lindy laughed. “To Santa,” she said, and raised the glass to her lips.
The wine was extrasweet, and cold. It tasted a bit like honey and came to life in her mouth. She smiled to herself, thinking this was like a cavity in a glass.
“Do you like it?” Billy asked.
“It’s wonderful.” It was the perfect complement to their magical day.