A Merry Little Christmas (11 page)

Charlie limped his way through the weekday lunch crowd at the Sunnyside Up Diner and found a seat at the back. He was in no mood for chitchat with any of the other customers. He was in no mood for lunch, since he’d lost his appetite. He was just in the mood to find Franny, even though the news he had to tell her wasn’t good.

And then just like that—in an answer to the most fervent prayer he’d ever petitioned heaven with—the woman he’d been searching for stepped out of the kitchen and into the light as if she were the very sunrise. Charlie attempted to rise to get Franny’s attention, but a searing pain in his leg sent him back to his seat. For a moment he just watched her, relieved to finally have located her and content to once again take in the object of his affection.

Franny was dressed in a waitressing uniform with an apron and a lace headband, which gave him another pang of sadness along with his own personal grief. After only one day, had Franny already been turned down by all the radio stations? That kind of a blow would have devastated most people, and yet there she was, smiling and greeting one of the new customers as if she were an old friend. That was Franny—to have made friends even after one day. He continued to watch the scene, mesmerized by her. Charlie leaned forward to hear the rest of the conversation.

“So, it wasn’t too far for you to walk, then?” Franny asked the customer, who was an older Negro lady wearing a maid’s outfit. Charlie noticed that the woman carried a heavy-looking basket full of brushes and cleaning products, and she shuffled a little as if her feet were hurting her.

“No, it was just fine,” the woman said, smiling. “I’m used to walking.”

Franny motioned for the woman to sit at the front counter.

A few of the other patrons stared at her but didn’t say anything.

The woman settled in at the counter next to the display case and glanced around as if in awe of the diner. “I surely am hungry, though. Thank you for the invite.”

Franny handed the woman a menu. “That’s good, because we’ve got a blue-plate special with turkey and dressing and green beans…with pumpkin pie for dessert.”

“That sounds mighty fine, hon.”

One of the older male customers at the counter ground out his cigarette in the ashtray as if he were killing an insect, got off his stool, and strode out the door.

“Sir, you forgot your change.” Franny started to run after the man who left suddenly, but it was too late. She shrugged, put the change in a jar, and poured her friend a cup of coffee.

Then Charlie saw a guy—apparently the owner—barrel out of the kitchen, combing his hair and glancing around. He was a real greaser type who was dressed like a buffoon and had enough goo on his gangster hairstyle to fry a carton of eggs. “Franny, what’s going on? How come that customer was angry?” the man asked. He slid the comb into his back pocket and put his hands on his hips, waiting for Franny to answer.

The owner was so gruff that Charlie almost rose again, hoping to come to Franny’s aid, but then thought better of it, since the last thing he wanted to do was make things worse for her.

Before Franny could answer, another customer at the counter, who had an annoyingly pointy chin, turned to the owner and said, “Arnold, you used to run a respectable business here. Looky what’s come in the front door. No one else is brave enough to speak up, but I am. You’d better clean up your diner, Arnold, or you’re going to lose
all
your customers.” Then the man slapped down his menu and raised his chin, which was made pointier by his spiky facial hair. Charlie thought the man’s ducktail beard looked befitting, since he had to be a real birdbrain.

Arnold turned his attention to the Negro woman Franny had befriended. “Sorry, ma’am, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave. There’s a café for
you
folks over on the next block.”

The Negro customer he addressed slowly took a sip of coffee, placed her cup back on the counter, and said, “I will go, but the good Lord is watching all this, and He may ask for an accounting of it someday.”

Arnold lowered his gaze and rubbed his chest as if trying to figure out how to counter her remark.

“This lady is my guest today,” Franny said to Arnold.

“I’m sorry.” Arnold put his hands on his hips. “If I let that woman stay, the rest of my customers will walk right out of here. Folks will tell their friends and they’ll stop coming to my diner. I didn’t sweat for ten years to build up a business just to see it demolished in one day. Not by you or anyone else. Savvy?”

Franny yanked off her headband and apron and placed them on the counter. “Then I quit.” She turned her focus to the male customer at the counter who’d just demanded that Arnold clean up his diner. “Excuse me, sir?”

Charlie held his breath, knowing that Franny was about to set the record straight, and he didn’t want to miss a second of it.

“You say you’re not afraid to speak up, as if you’re brave in some way,” Franny said. “But your comments weren’t courageous…they exposed you as a coward.”

The man at the counter huffed. “People have a name for white women like you,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear. “You’re nothing but a—”

“Don’t you dare foul up this café with your filthy words.” Franny slammed her hand on the counter.

“Ha. You’re the one guilty of bringing in the filth with that woman.” The man stroked his devilish beard and looked around as if expecting a round of laughs from the other customers.

A few people rewarded him with a few chuckles.

Then every last soul in the diner went as silent as the grave, and every gaze, except for a squirming child or two, was locked on Franny.

“Sir, that woman is Noma Jefferson, and she is my guest here, because yesterday she came to my rescue when I needed help. Her kindness toward me will always be remembered. Will
your
little speech be remembered?” Franny asked. “What you said was as valuable as a soldier fighting on the wrong side of the war.”

Shaking with emotion, Franny addressed the crowd, “We are better than this…aren’t we? Better than herding our brothers and sisters around as if they were cattle.” She looked around the room as if to affect every willing soul. “The Declaration of Independence reads, ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident, that
all
men are created equal.’ And you know deep down in your gut that ‘separate but equal’ is a lie and that the Jim Crow laws are inhumane.”

Franny picked up a ceramic Christmas tree off the counter and raised it in the air. “Hasn’t this season of grace and love and goodwill toward men done anything to soften our hard hearts? What are we so afraid of? The evil we dread isn’t in our black brothers and sisters, but it’s in the hate-inspired laws
we’ve
created against them. God Almighty
is
watching us…and it’s time we wake up and see how far we’ve strayed from what is right and good. Deep down we all desire to be decent Americans, but that right must never be presumed—it must be earned!” Franny set down the ceramic Christmas tree on the counter and dropped her shoulders as if exhausted.

If air could tremble in awe, it would have.

A kid at the counter gave his candy cigarette a pretend puff and said, “Neat-o.”

A teenage girl snapped a photograph of Franny with her Polaroid camera.

Charlie released a half sigh, half chuckle—feeling an ocean wave of emotion, of pure joy. Unable to hold back for another second, Charlie put his hands together in loud applause.

Gradually others joined in, until the diner thundered with cheers. He eased himself out of the booth to give Franny a standing ovation.

The door flew open from the cold wind and the paper menus took to the air. Franny picked up a few and handed them to Arnold, who stood behind the counter with a dumbfounded expression.

Franny finally looked in Charlie’s direction, and for the first time since he’d entered the diner, their eyes met. She gasped.

Oh, Charlie boy!
Franny had never been happier to see anyone in her life. What was he doing here? She wanted to run over and throw her arms around him, but first she stopped to make sure Noma was all right. “I’m sorry,” Franny whispered to her friend. “I didn’t mean to bring so much attention to you.”

Noma touched Franny’s cheek. “You’ve got a good heart beating inside you, and God bless your parents for raising such a fine child. But I wish you hadn’t quit your job.”

“Well, sometimes you gotta show people what you’re made of.” Franny and Noma exchanged smiles, and then Franny looked at Charlie. “I see a friend I want you to meet.”

“Be happy to.” Noma followed Franny to Charlie’s booth at the back.

He looked so handsome in his tailored suit with his fancy gold tiepin. Too bad she hadn’t had time to freshen up in the little girl’s room. As she approached Charlie, she was suddenly in a quandary about her greeting. Since they weren’t dating, perhaps she shouldn’t throw her arms around him. But in the midst of her indecision, Charlie pulled her into an embrace. “It’s only been a day, but it feels so good to see you.”

“I missed you too.”
More than I ever imagined.
Franny hugged him back and breathed him in, expensive cologne and all. He was real.
How in the world did you find me? I must know everything.
But first she wanted him to meet Noma. “Charlie, I have a new friend I want you to meet.”

When they eased apart Charlie gave Noma his full attention but said nothing about the scene he’d just witnessed. “I’m honored to meet you, Miss Jefferson.”

“Call me Noma.”

After Franny finished the introductions, Charlie invited them both to sit down in his booth.

“Thank you for the invitation, but I think I’ll go back to my seat. I’d love to sit at the counter in this fine diner for a meal…to know how it feels.” Noma dabbed at the perspiration on her forehead with a handkerchief, which she slipped back into the pocket of her maid’s uniform. “And besides, I can always tell when a couple needs some time alone.”

Charlie chuckled.

Franny raised a hand. “But we’re not—”

“Maybe not yet you’re not, but just you wait….” Noma walked back to her spot at the front counter as Arnold arrived with her blueplate special.

Franny sat down in the booth.

Charlie lowered himself halfway into the seat across from her but then sort of fell the rest of the way.

“You’re hurt. What’s happened to you?”

“It’s a long story. But first I want to tell you how proud I am of you. You know, what you said here today. I didn’t want to say anything in front of your friend in case it would cause her more embarrassment, but your parents…well, they would have been proud too.”

“That means a lot, Charlie, but how did you—”

“Franny?” Arnold arrived at their table with her headband and apron. “I guess you can still have your job.” His scratched his head. “You’re kind of spunky. You remind me of my granny. But, hey, that little speech you gave, it’s not going to be this way every day at the diner, is it?”

Franny wasn’t sure what to say, but she at least owed her employer an honest answer. “I don’t know. No guarantees.”

“Hmm. Well, we’ll see how it goes. I need the extra help around Christmas.” Arnold set Franny’s headband and apron in front of her. “And you can have your thirty-minute lunch break now. Looks like you and your boyfriend need a minute to yourselves.”

“But he’s not my…” Franny didn’t bother finishing the explanation, since Arnold was already headed back to the kitchen.

Charlie laughed.

Franny wasn’t sure if he was laughing because the idea of being in a relationship with her was a silly notion or because he wanted it to be true. She wished she knew the whole story. It might make a difference in her day—her life. “Now tell me what’s going on with your leg. You’re hurt.”

“It’s only minor.” Charlie leaned toward her. “But what I need to talk to you about is
how
I got injured.”

“Yes?”

“I fell while I was trying to put out the fire.”

“Fire?” Franny crossed her arms on the table. “What fire?”

Charlie flinched. “The one that burned down the barn.”

“The barn? It’s gone?” The shock of his announcement ran through her like a cherry Kool-Aid spill on a white tablecloth—swiftly and deeply.

“Oh, Franny. How can I tell you how very sorry I am? And it happened on my watch.” He reached out and touched her sleeve. “None of the animals got hurt. In fact, it scared the cows so much they broke through the fence.”

“Oh my.”

“But the cows are fine. I rounded them up. The fire department said the fire started from a short in the wiring. It started not long after you left.”

“Oh, my, my, my.” Franny imagined what the farm landscape must have looked like as the flames took the old building down. Not caring about her lipstick any longer, she pressed her fingers to her mouth and squashed her lips together.

“It was so odd, don’t you think? That it happened the moment you were gone…as if the whole farm was in an upheaval, not wanting you to go.” Charlie gave her a weak smile. “Please say something. You’re welcome to holler at me.”

“How could I be upset with you? I mean, it’s
your
farm now. And they said it wasn’t your fault anyway. Mice probably chewed through the wiring. You’ll need to buy a cat.”