Welcome to Newtonberg (7 page)

Mike stepped out onto the front porch of the
Café, quietly closing the door behind him. It was an unseasonably
cool night for December in Newtonberg. The colder weather usually
didn’t show up until January and even then, it usually only lasted
six weeks or so. He took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. It felt
good not to be strapped into the red velvet suit anymore; not to
have a pillow strapped against his stomach limiting his ability to
breathe. Still, it was a small sacrifice to make for the Widow
Missus.

He reached into his pocket for his car keys
and was startled by a voice to his left, where a bench sat in the
shadows up against the porch railing. It was Janet.

“Mike?”

He looked over. “Janet. I’m glad to see you.
I was starting to wonder where you were.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” she said. “Just a million
little loose ends to tie up. You know.”

“Of course. It was a big job. You pulled it
off flawlessly.”

“Thanks.” She smiled at him and motioned to
the empty spot beside her on the bench. “Have a seat.”

Once he had sat down, she spoke softly. “I
heard what you said to Little Philip.”

He blushed. “Oh.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. It was sweet. Is that
how you really feel about us? About Newtonberg?”

“Of course. Janet, this is my home now. The
people here really are like family. Missus Johnson and Cliff
Magnuson might as well be my parents. They’ve both treated me like
a son since the day I arrived.” He swallowed.

“And me? How do you feel about me?”

He took a deep breath and looked into her
eyes. “You? Well, it’s…complicated.”

She searched his face. “How complicated can
it be? I thought we’d made a lot of progress over the past few
weeks. There was a time when you wouldn’t even talk to me. Now it’s
different.”

“It’s not that I wouldn’t talk to you. I
couldn’t. I was too nervous. Too scared.” He looked away.

“Scared of what?”

“I don’t know. Rejection? That you wouldn’t
feel the same way?”

“And how is that? How do you feel?”

“I don’t know. I can’t say. I can’t say I
love you. I barely know you. But I’d like to. I’d really like to
get to know you better.”

She reached up and touched his face. “Mike,
that’s all I’ve wanted.”

He looked into her eyes again. “Really?”

“Really,” she whispered. She pulled his head
down and gently kissed his cheek. “Let’s just start with that and
see what happens.”

He pulled her into a hug. They stayed that
way for several minutes, neither one able to speak, enjoying the
silence between them.

The silence was broken when a 1962 Ford
Galaxie Sunliner convertible pulled into the parking lot. The car
door opened, and Gladys Thompson stepped out of the driver’s
seat.

“Miss Gladys?” Mike was more than a little
surprised.

“Yes, it’s us. Did we miss the dessert
auction?” She made her way around to the other side of the car just
as the passenger’s side door opened. Mayor Al swung his legs out,
followed by a cane. His right leg was wrapped tight in a bandage
from his foot to his knee.

“It’s still going on,” Janet said. “What on
earth happened?”

“Just a little skiing accident,” answered Al.
“Nothing broken, but I sprained my ankle pretty bad. I couldn’t
even drive. How’d the Festival go without me?”

Janet smiled. “You were missed, but Mike did
a great job filling in.”

“I’m sure he did.”

“Didn’t you want to stay and finish your
vacation? I mean, there were other things you could do even without
skiing.”

Gladys smiled at her. “You know what I’ve
discovered? Skiing’s overrated. And sometime, a few days away from
your hometown is more than enough to remind you of what’s
important.”

Mike looked at her. “You know, I think I’m
beginning to figure that out, too.”

Al and Gladys made their way up the few
stairs onto the porch and went into the Café, leaving Mike and
Janet alone again. They sat for a while on the bench, with her head
leaning against his shoulder.

Finally, Janet spoke. “So, tell me. What are
you doing on New Year’s Eve?”

Mike took her hand in his. “Why don’t we
discuss it over coffee at the library?”

* * * * * * * *

Inside the Café, Cliff Magnuson and the Widow
Missus sat at a table together, drinking coffee and discussing the
year’s Festival. From where they sat, they could see Mike and Janet
on the porch.

“Well, Harriet,” Cliff said with a smile,
“I’d say this year’s Christmas Festival was a complete
success.”

“I think I’d have to agree.” She nodded at
the two young people on the porch. “So what do you think? Did we do
right by them?”

“I’m sure of it.” He lifted his coffee cup in
a toast. “Merry Christmas, Harriet.”

She lifted her cup and touched his. “Merry
Christmas, Cliff.”

They sat for a minute, staring out the window
as Mike and Janet stood up. They held hands as they walked to the
parking lot where Mike held the door for her before getting behind
the wheel himself.

“Look at that,” the Widow Missus said. “Isn’t
that just the most beautiful thing you every saw?”

Cliff reached over and took her hand. “Yes,
it is, Harriet. It’s just about the most beautiful thing in the
world.”

# # #

David Emprimo is firstly: a son, a brother
(and brother-in-law), an uncle, and a friend. Secondly, he has
worked for almost twenty years at the public library in a small
East Texas town which may or may not bear some similarities to
Newtonberg.

He enjoys music, movies, books, spending time
with his family, and speaking about himself in the third
person.

There is currently no Janet Carmichael in his
life, although certain actresses and singers are welcome to submit
applications (although not by e-mail).

Official Website and Blog:

http://newtonberg.wordpress.com

E-mail:

[email protected]