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“Tonight.” She shrugged. “It’s been all over the news.”
It didn’t surprise him that he’d missed something like that. He’d been so busy trying to prove to his employer he could do his job from here, he’d only glanced at his phone when it had something to do with work.
She broke a chip in half and dipped one of those halves into the salsa. Then she slid the salsa bowl over with her thumb so he could have some too.
“Snow is a big deal here in Tennessee,” she said after she downed the half chip. “It’s probably an everyday thing where you live.”
He shook his head. “Not quite not like when I was in school in Ohio, or even when I lived in Indiana. It happens just often enough in Lexington to be a pain.”
Like Tennessee, Kentucky didn’t invest in clearing side roads when snow happened. It just wasn’t often enough. But he was decent at driving in the snow, so he always managed to make it to work.
“I guess it’s too late for me to get back to Kentucky before it drops,” he said with a shrug. “If I’m snowed in here, I’ll get to spend more time with my parents.”
And her. He didn’t say those words out loud, though.
“What about your crops?” she asked.
“We have a team that takes care of that. I can manage it from here.”
Spanish Christmas music filled the air around them as he grabbed his first chip and took a bite. A server came over to take his drink order and hand him a menu and some silverware. Nic ordered quickly while the guy was standing there. It was obvious Charity had already ordered, and he didn’t want to slow things down.
Once the server was gone, they seemed to struggle to find conversation. He searched for something that would put them back on track…as friends, if nothing else.
“Mrs. Apple’s turkey casserole,” he blurted. “That’s what my mom made for dinner tonight.”
Charity was shaking her head as soon as the words “turkey casserole” came out of his mouth. “That casserole has gone viral.”
He frowned. “Online?”
“No. In town. Around here, it seems like one person does something, and soon it’s all the rage.”
“Turkey casserole is all the rage.” He laughed. “Sounds about right. My mom used to avoid all that, but she’s changed. She joined a book club in Misty Mountain.”
“The one at the candy store?” Charity asked.
He stopped chewing and stared at her. There was a book club in a candy store? His confusion obviously came through because she smiled as he resumed chewing.
“It was at Brianna’s bookstore, but that shut down, as I’m sure you know, so they moved across the street,” she explained. “To the candy store.”
Thankfully, the server brought his sweet tea, which gave him a few extra seconds to take in this information. As he peeled the paper off the straw and took his first sip, Nic processed what she’d just said.
“How does that work, exactly?” he finally asked. “Do they just set up their chairs next to the taffy pull?”
She laughed. “I guess that’s exactly what they do. The candy shop isn’t doing as well as they expected, or so I hear. Turns out, tourists don’t really stray off the strip.”
“Yeah, I would’ve put a shop like that over near the dinner theater and buffet.”
Charity sighed. “They were hoping to take over the square downtown to drive tourist traffic.”
“That’d be good for the pizzeria.” But even he heard the uncertainty in his voice. It sounded like a bad idea all the way around. “I can’t say I like that idea, though. What do you know? I guess I’m still protective of my hometown.”
“You can move away but this will always be your hometown. Same for all of us.”
As their server arrived with their food, there was a brief lull in the conversation. The all-too-familiar melody of “Feliz Navidad” brought a smile to his face. It was a simple thing, really. Just sitting across from his childhood best friend at the very start of the Christmas season. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he was happy. Truly happy.
“Ho! Ho! Ho!”
That sound, coming from the front of the restaurant, cut into Nic’s thoughts. He and Charity looked in that direction at the same time. Sure enough, Santa from the other night on the square was standing under the mistletoe by himself. The suit he wore was identical to the one he had on the last time they’d seen him, but this time, he carried a matching red bag.
