Wandering

Apr. 6th, 2010 04:58 am
ysonesse: (Default)
[personal profile] ysonesse
(First posted on Runaway Tales:  Pink Lemonade #11)


“Hot chocolate,” Allyson suggested.

“What about cider?” Jamie countered.

Allyson raised her eyebrows. “You mean the spiky apple cider.”

Jamie laughed. “Don’t criticize it without a proper swallow first.”

“I’ll try it.” Then she paused in front of a bakery. “But good luck trying to come across hard cider around here.”

Jamie realized she was right. What chance in oblivion would grant him even a single glass filled with “spiky apple cider” in the midst of downtown Harbor Neck? When he returned home for the holidays it was a standard custom to pick up as many bottles as he could squeeze through customs. Then he came back Stateside with enough cider to satisfy his cravings until the end of the following year.

But there was a lovely distraction to keep him occupied until his journey to Lockborough in ten days. Allyson stood against a backdrop of various holiday pastries, wrapped up against December’s bite in the same black wool pea coat she’d worn the night of their first encounter. She almost seemed like a delicate shadow placed against golden light coming from the bakery; her black coat and hair blended together, and both contrasted with her pale skin. She was otherworldly, yet lived within every atom of reality.

“Come on, let’s go inside,” Allyson said, putting herself toward the bakery’s entrance. “I need to slip into something hot before my veins freeze.”

Jamie sighed. “At least they’ll have coffee.”

“It’s better than walking around in this cold.”

“My heartache could be remedied if they have something good.”

“Christmas cookies, maybe?”

“I’m hoping for a blintz.”

“Really?”

“Astounding that an Englishman could like something not English, I suppose.”

Allyson’s reply waited until she was in front of the counter. “I just don’t place you as a blintz kind of guy.”

He bent down to inspect a potentially delectable tray of apple strudel. “I developed a fondness during my kidlet years.”

“Who liked blintzes in your house?”

“Mum happens to be from Chicago. She carried her love for them across the pond. But it was impossible to find any in England, so she had to go the handmade route.”

“So you’re half and half.”

“That’s a funny way to describe me.”

“You have something better.”

“Nationally confused.”

Allyson leaned against the counter. “You hold two passports. I guess that does make your life tricky.”

“Blintzes and mince pies. Strange holidays round my house.”

She laughed. “Better than most people’s houses.”

“Everyone has their own version of the holidays. Some are great, others are tragic.”

“Most families have ordinary routines every Christmas. Predictable times for dinner, rituals when the presents are opened, movies that are watched, shopping at certain stores the day after─”

“Good old Boxing Day!”

“What’s your tradition for the day after Christmas?” Allyson stood on tiptoes for an inspection of tea packets in a small basket on top of the counter.

“Picking up gift paper and boxes, then placing all that mess in bins.”

“Just like my house.” She picked out a shimmery gold packet from the basket. “I found some good Darjeeling.”

Jamie stopped his perusal of the baked goods, and tapped his fingers against the glass. “Look, cherry blintzes!”

“Thank Eternity, you found something to eat!”

He stood up, then moved over to the register. “Half a dozen cherry blintzes, please,” he said to the cashier. He turned back to Allyson. “Maybe you could accompany some of that with one of these little beauties.”

“I’ve never had one.” She pulled out another packet, silver and yellow. “Standard green tea.”

“Maybe we could have some blintzes and green tea for our second date.”

She flicked her twin packets against the air. “You’re assuming there might be another date.”

“I don’t see how you could resist my charm.” He grinned to prove his assertion.

Allyson tilted her head. “Since you put it that way, how can I refuse?”