“This is Tommy’s,” Juliet tells me.
There is a fat man dressed in a plaid shirt with his belly hanging over gray wool pants, wearing a Santa hat walking around to all of the tables giving away free pie tonight.
“And that’s Tommy.”
“Does Tommy make a profit giving people pumpkin pie every night?” The man must be losing his shirt ... or has already lost it and opted for the one that is a size too small.
“It’s not pumpkin every night, sometimes it’s apple, or lemon. My favorite is strawberry.”
Tommy makes his way to us and without any warning whatsoever he launches at Juliet.
“Jules Limon-berry! How is my favorite friend’s daughter? How’s life treatin’ ya? You conquer the world yet?” He’s a jovial old sap.
“Workin’ on it, Tommy. This is Marcel.” She introduces me and for the first time she doesn’t say anything disparaging, I actually appreciate that.
Tommy shows us to a booth in the far corner then hands each of us a menu. “I recommend the chicken pot pie,” he says with a jovial grin. “And the tofu vegetable teriyaki bake made in honor of my girl, Limon-berry.”
I look at Juliet and shrug my shoulders. “It's your call, Ma Chérie. Tonight is on you.”
“He’ll have the chicken pot pie, and I’ll have the vegie-teri. Bring your nicest red wine for my friend and a 7UP for me. For dessert we'll have the strawberry pie.”
She settles more deeply into the booth after ordering and looks so adorable in her bright red sweater that matches the decor perfectly.
“So why does he call you Limon-berry?” The name has piqued my curiosity.
“My grandfather and Tommy grew up together. As you can see, Tommy has a bit of a thing for pie and that's because his dad had a berry farm and pie was a huge part of his childhood.My grandpa and Tommy were best friends for over eighty years. Tommy is eighty-three if you can believe that. He’s always called me Limon-berry because my last name is Limons and he has to put berry on the end of everything. It's just a thing Tommy does.” An adorable smile spreads across her face.
The food comes and it is delicious. I am accustomed to the finest things. I only eat at high-end restaurants, or places like the burrito cart where I know the food is going to be homemade and top quality. Tommy's cooking is both. By the time dessert comes, I'm not only stuffed to the brim, I'm actually content. That is saying a lot for me considering I'm not usually a very happy person. I have moments of joy, but they are fleeting and far between. Ever since meeting Juliet, however, I have been floating, almost levitating with happiness. This, of course, is something I am not going to ever admit to Juliet, because I’m still unsure of what she and I will become.
“That was truly delicious. I'm not just saying it to make you happy. I am a food connoisseur, as you might expect, and that was delightful.” The lovely smile that Juliet had been wearing all night grows ten times bigger.
“I'm glad you liked the food. I'll have to tell Tommy when I see him again how much you enjoyed it. He usually doesn't stick around for too long after opening because he's a pretty old guy. Now for the best part of the night. One of my family's Christmas traditions is to have dinner at Tommy's with pie and then partake in the Eaton Valley Christmas sleigh ride. There is no way we are leaving Eaton without riding on the sleigh.” Her smile turns sinister.
“Well, seeing that I am at your mercy, lead the way.” I'm so tempted to take her hand and yet I know I am not at liberty to do so.
She takes me outside to the park where the sleigh rides are staged. We bundle up from head to toe in blankets offered by the concession operating the sleigh ride. The wind picks up and there is a storm rolling in fast. This does not deter Juliet as she is determined to participate in her family's Christmas tradition and we climb aboard. The sleigh rattles over ice, the horses toss their heads and we are bouncing along freezing our asses off. I grip the railing for dear life, pretending I’m not scared to death. This is treacherous riding along icy city streets in a sleigh that must fall far below safety standards. I wonder when the last time this thing was inspected? I assume it was sometime during the late nineties.
When the ride ends, I am praising god for being alive and I glance at the darkening sky. “Glad we got that in before the storm.”
“Oh yikes,” Juliet says, looking up.
How is she just noticing?
“Best we get indoors. I can take you home. Where do you live?” I ask as if I don’t already know.
“You can take me back to the office.” She’s aloof and all business again.
“Come on, the weather is about to get really nasty, I’m not taking you back to the office. I may be a Grinch, but I’m not a douche bag. The day is over, you showed me what I needed to see and I definitely got a taste of what Eaton is all about. Win/win for now. You can go home victorious.” I can’t tell her that I’m still planning on razing the town because I’d know if I did, I’d never see her again.
“Ok,” she finally relents and I ask her for her address which she reluctantly gives.
Well, she tells me the street address of her building, but not the number of her Gran’s residence. My driver takes us to her Grandma's apartment building which is not far from the diner.
Since we only spend a few minutes in the car I can't really talk to her about anything too deep. She asks me if I meant it when I told her I'd make one concession. I explain that if I am able to get it approved by the board I will do my best. I hate to see the hope and joy on her face disappear.
She's fairly somber by the time we arrive at her Gran’s house. I know this is my only chance to turn this around and so I take a risk I shouldn't. I lean in so close, I can smell the warm vanilla aroma of her shampoo. “Juliet ...”
She turns to me and I kiss her slowly and deliberately. “I may be a Grinch,” I tell her as I break from our kiss. “But you’re brighter and more beautiful than the Christmas star,” I murmur against her cheek.
