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THIRTY-TWO

AMOS

“This is quite the turnout,” Grandpa said with pride as he gazed out at the bustling restaurant. Pop Pop, my other grandfather, grabbed his hand, then used his free one to wipe a tear from his eye.

“It sure is. I’m glad we’re here to see it.” Pop Pop shook his head in disbelief. “Sparky’s on national television. I still can’t believe it.”

I rubbed his arm, and we shared a smile.

I was glad Good Morning, USA picked the Christmas Eve Community Dinner to cover so my dad’s parents were able to be a part of it while they were in town for the holidays.

Every seat in Sparky’s was taken with a few more people hovering at the entrance, which gave the space a boisterous energy.

The lively chatting made it seem like there were twice as many people.

A crowd had gathered across the street in their winter gear to watch the action in the brisk morning chill.

The film crew didn’t seem surprised, but I supposed they were used to people excitedly trying to get on camera.

I was unexpectedly caught by emotion. My family had built something wonderful that meant a lot to many people in this town. If we’d offered a seat to everyone who asked to come and support Sparky’s today, we would’ve needed a restaurant ten times bigger.

I stood behind the counter to make a fresh pot of coffee. My uniform—a collared short-sleeved green button-up shirt and black pants—was freshly pressed and my curls were styled to high heaven in case I made it on camera.

My phone was tucked in my waist apron, and I itched to send a photo to Mickey of the busy place. He was probably scrambling to prepare for the film crew’s lunchtime visit to Red’s. This was a big deal for each of our diners, and it sucked that we couldn’t support each other in person.

Every surface gleamed thanks to our full staff showing up last night after closing to ensure the place was camera-ready for the crew’s arrival at eight this morning. We didn’t finish until after midnight, and I hoped adrenaline would push me through because it was shaping up to be a long day.

It was wild to see Good Morning, USA’s Theresa Hernandez and her trademark curly brown hair in the flesh.

I’d never been a watcher of morning talk shows, but I knew who she was simply from pop culture.

She was probably the most glamorous person to ever step foot in Sparky’s, other than prom dates and the time we’d closed for a wedding reception for a couple who’d met at the counter when they’d both been stood up for dates.

I swore she hadn’t aged a day since I was in high school.

Theresa had been sitting with various Sparky’s VIPs and chatting with them about Maplewood, the Holiday Hoopla, and their takes on the diner rivalry.

She moved to a booth near me where an older couple that frequented the diner sat.

Dick and Shirley came in for dinner at least weekly, and Dick was there every Friday morning to lead the local Kiwanis meetings.

The camera operator was hot on her heels.

“That looks delicious. Mind if I join you?” Theresa’s teeth were impossibly white.

“You’re more than welcome. I’ve got plenty to share.” Dick scooted over to make room while Shirley stared at Theresa, completely starstruck.

“That’s so kind. May I ask a couple of questions?” Theresa aimed the question at them both.

“Ask me anything you like. Want some of my bacon? It’s extra crispy.”

“I’d love some, but I can’t risk getting bacon in my teeth on national television,” Theresa said conspiratorially. She jerked her thumb at the camera. “Ever since those things went high-definition, I’ve got to be careful.”

Shirley let out a peal of laughter.

“Why Sparky’s Diner instead of Red’s Restaurant?” Theresa leaned forward like she was anticipating a juicy secret.

“My grandaddy worked at the paper mill where Sparky and Red had their food stand. When the feud happened, he took Sparky’s side. My dad grew up eating at Sparky’s, so did I, and so did my kids, and my grandkids will too. This is where the Vaughn family eats.”

“We’ve celebrated a lot in these walls,” Shirley said sweetly. “Our first date and many anniversaries. Birthdays, graduations.”

Dick reached across the table and grabbed Shirley’s hand. “During hard times, we come for the best pie in town to make us feel better. Sparky’s has been here through the highs and the lows, so I’m here for Sparky’s,” he said.

Theresa turned toward the camera. “That’s the beauty of small-town America.

In places like Maplewood, Vermont, these businesses are woven into the fabric of people’s lives.

” She turned back to Dick and Shirley. “Thank you for letting me interrupt your breakfast. Merry Christmas.” She stood and moved to another table.

“How’s it going out here?”

I startled at Mom’s voice. “Great! I’ve only overheard a few conversations, but Theresa is getting some wonderful anecdotes from people.”

Sweat beaded at Mom’s temples and the hair she’d taken time to curl this morning was now frizzy, but she glowed.

We’d tried to convince her to stay out front and let the other cooks take over, but she’d insisted she wanted to show her love through food to all the people who supported us.

Plus, it took all hands on deck today while they also worked on food for tonight’s Christmas Eve Community Dinner.

“That’s wonderful. I’d better get back to it. Just wanted to check in.” She disappeared into the kitchen.

I continued taking orders, refilling coffee, and delivering food while picking up more snippets of conversations. It was story after story of what Sparky’s meant to these people. I was so proud of my family for creating this anchor point in so many people’s lives.

The longer I listened to people express how much Sparky’s meant to them, the more I thought about how they would react once Mickey and I went public. Instead of doubting our plan, it made me more certain about how much I wanted to stop hiding our feelings for each other.

The thread through all the stories shared today was the importance of family—both blood and found.

I was blessed to have been born into an amazing family, but I wanted to start my own.

Mickey was the first person I’d connected with who made me think that might be possible.

I couldn’t give up when I was falling in love with him.

The town might reject us, but they were good people, and there was just as good a chance, if not more, that these people would embrace us like they’d chosen to support Sparky or Red. The future Mickey and I might have was worth risking everything for.

MICKEY

“You’ve got to meet Cyrus. He proposed to his husband here.” Dad introduced Theresa to Cyrus and Terry, two of Dad’s oldest friends who sat at the counter.

I’d never seen Dad and Grandpa so excited, which said a lot because excited was their default mode.

Grandma even put on a Red’s uniform, soda jerk hat and all, as she made continuous rounds refilling coffees.

She looked adorable. It was really special to have three generations of Brewers in the room for such a special moment. It was something I would never forget.

The Formica counter hadn’t shone quite like this since I was a kid.

The place was looking sharp. Aunt Ingrid had found a few retro Christmas decorations that helped push the décor from outdated to curated vintage and her newest stained glass piece hung proudly in the window.

Dad had even strategically added a couple of Marta’s hand-painted Christmas signs to the place with a small stack of her business cards by each.

It was only lunchtime, but it felt like I’d been awake for two days.

We still had the Christmas Eve Community Dinner to go.

Despite how exhausted I was from preparing for Good Morning, USA’s visit and the final details for tonight’s dinner, it was exhilarating to see so many people show their support for the diner and our family’s history.

“I’ve been eating here since I was a kid. Joe’s dad used to cook for me and my dad.” Cyrus turned toward me. “And hopefully, someday, our kids will get served by Mickey.”

A cold sweat broke on the back of my neck as Theresa and several others turned toward me. Aunt Ingrid briefly squeezed my hand while filling some sodas.

While serving, I kept getting caught in conversations with people who wanted to share their Red’s highlight reels.

I loved learning about the diner’s impact on people in town, but each story made me feel worse about not wanting to continue my family’s legacy.

Could I really give this up when it meant so much to so many?

Theresa and her crew spent another half-hour filming and talking to people.

Once the crew finished getting the footage they needed, Dad insisted on sending lunches and slices of pie with them.

As soon as the crew was gone, the place began emptying out, and we closed to focus on finishing our contribution for tonight’s dinner.

Bo was the only person lingering who wasn’t a Brewer or wearing a Red’s uniform.

“Ingrid, do you mind if I steal Mickey for lunch?” he asked with his charming smile.

“If you don’t make him sit, I was about to. I’ll be over in a few to take your orders.”

I opened my mouth to argue because Ingrid had worked just as hard as I had, but she sent me a look that told me to shut my mouth and enjoy lunch.

“Thanks, Ingrid. I’ll cover for you after.”

Bo grabbed a menu and followed me over to a table in the far corner. Someone had cranked up the Christmas music.

“You doing okay?” Bo’s forehead creased in concern.

“Yeah, this is going well. It’s probably the best day of Dad’s life.” I smiled, thinking of how downright giddy he’d been all day.

Bo glanced over his shoulder to the counter where Dad loudly recapped the highlights of Theresa’s visit. “Your dad is definitely in his element. His haircut looks nice.”

I chuckled. “Notice his new uniform shirt too? He even considered fixing the crack in the counter, but I told him it was part of the place’s charm.”

Bo smiled. “It is. Not everything needs to feel new and unused. I appreciate the wear and tear of Red’s. It’s seen a lot over the years.”

That was what was killing me. I wanted to make more memories in this place over the rest of my life, and I wanted others to have the same opportunity.

Despite that, I didn’t want Red’s to be my life.

Not like it had been for Dad and Grandpa.

I loved Red’s, but it wasn’t my passion.

Just because I didn’t want to become the owner didn’t mean I wanted it to go away.

I spent so much time dwelling on how I would let people down because I wasn’t my dad or grandfather.

I didn’t have that special thing that made them so great at running this place.

What if I ruined it? But what if I didn’t?

Maybe all I needed to do was decide to do it, and then I would enjoy it.

That was nice in theory, but I wasn’t convinced it could happen.

“How are you feeling about tonight?” I asked Bo while he read the menu as though he hadn’t memorized the thing twenty years ago.

“Fantastic. You and Amos have done a stellar job with everything—especially with the extra pressure from Good Morning, USA .” He set the menu down and adopted a serious expression. “Not to mention the burden I put on you.” His expression morphed into one of pain. “I’m sorry, Mick.”

“For what? You know I’m always happy to help with the festivals.”

Bo opened his mouth but stopped himself from saying whatever he planned to when Ingrid stopped by to take our orders. After she left, he leaned close and lowered his voice.

“For not being supportive of you and Amos. A good friend wouldn’t have pressured you to keep things quiet and warned you off each other.

I should’ve focused on the fact that two of the best people I know had fallen for each other instead of worrying that two of my closest friends would end up hurt. ”

I slumped against the chair. “Thanks, Bo. I appreciate that.”

“Are you still seeing each other?”

“Yeah. We’re actually planning on telling our families at Christmas. I was feeling confident about that until today.”

“What changed? Doubting your feelings?”

“No! That’s not it at all. I just can’t shake this feeling of duty to my family and the business. I’m worried going public with Amos might affect that.”

“It’s not your responsibility to shoulder the burdens of your family or the town. Your happiness matters as much as everyone else’s.”

A lump formed in my throat. I didn’t realize how badly I’d needed to hear that from Bo, given how much he cared about the town’s happiness.

Lunch with Bo was exactly what I needed to decompress before tonight’s dinner. I just needed to get through that, tell my family about Amos tomorrow, and then I could start living the rest of my life.

There was more to figure out, like what to do about the diner, but I would rather worry about that later with Amos by my side.