Dear Santa(23)

The rest of the afternoon was perfect. They stopped by the independent bookstore, A Book for All Seasons, and Lindy bought an autographed copy by one of her favorite authors. Their next stop was the cheese store, and Billy picked up Brie from France to contribute to his sister’s Christmas dinner.

“Will you spend Christmas with Dede?” She assumed the restaurant would be closed on Christmas Day.

“That’s the plan for now.”

For now? He made it sound as if there might be a change in his plans. It made her wonder if he’d made other arrangements with another woman. A tinge of curiosity niggled in her mind until she reminded herself it shouldn’t matter. She would be returning to Seattle after the first of the year. This time together was a pleasant interlude and one her self-esteem badly needed, but they were both fully aware her time in Wenatchee was limited.

    As they strolled along the way, the crowds swirled around them: the noise, laughter, and music, all part of the enchantment.

There was no shortage of interesting shops to visit, and before long it was time for their dinner reservation at Berghoff’s. They walked to the restaurant, hand in hand to keep them from being separated in the mingling crowd. Whatever the reason, Lindy enjoyed being linked to him.

The line into the restaurant progressed along, and soon they were at the checkin. The hostess collected their coats and led them across the room. As expected, every table was occupied, and the restaurant was hopping. A fire blazed from the rock-hewn fireplace, warming the room. Soft lighting created a cozy, if not romantic, atmosphere.

Once seated, they were handed menus. When their server appeared, Billy ordered a wine from a local winery, and within a short amount of time it was delivered to their table.

“Dan will be right over,” the server told Billy.

“Dan is the owner,” Billy explained. “He’s been a mentor to me for the last couple of years, plus being a good friend.”

“I look forward to meeting him.” Eating at Berghoff’s was a rare treat. Her family had never been able to get reservations, and Lindy hadn’t mentioned where Billy was taking her, in case it fell through at the last minute.

    “Dan has relatives in Chicago,” Billy explained. “Their restaurant was one of the most notable in the city for any number of years. I had another restaurant in Yakima before coming to Wenatchee. Dan was instrumental in advising me when I came to him about opening the Wine Press. His family has been in the business for years. I appreciated his advice.”

Lindy vaguely remembered hearing about the relationship between the Chicago restaurant and the one in Leavenworth, some years ago, while in college.

“What happened to your restaurant in Yakima?” Lindy asked, wondering if he was managing more than the one in Wenatchee.

He didn’t answer right away, and looked relieved when Dan approached their table, leaving her to wonder what had happened in Yakima, as he didn’t seem to want to discuss it.

“Will, good to see you,” Dan said, as he stepped closer. Billy stood, and the two men briefly hugged. “Appreciate you squeezing us in tonight,” he said.

The restaurant owner was around fifty, if Lindy were to guess. He had a thick head of salt-and-pepper hair, warm blue eyes, and a well-trimmed beard. His smile was personable.

    “Wednesday night wasn’t a huge problem. The weekend would have been impossible.” He reached for the wine bottle and opened it with an expert hand. He glanced toward Lindy.

Billy reached across the table and took her hand. “This is Lindy, the woman I mentioned earlier.”

“Ah yes,” Dan said, his gaze welcoming, revealing a bit of intrigue, as if he knew something she didn’t. “It’s a pleasure, Lindy.”

“It’s nice to meet you, and again, thank you for finding us a table for tonight.”

“My joy, sweet lady.”

Billy leaned forward, pressing his midsection against the table. In a stage whisper, he said, “I didn’t tell him about your letter to Santa.”

“What’s this about a letter?” Dan pried.

“What would you recommend off the menu?” Lindy asked, gently kicking Billy under the table.

“Ouch,” he cried, pretending she’d mortally wounded him. “It’s nothing,” he told his friend, and then added in another stage whisper, “I’ll tell you later.”

Dan laughed and turned his attention to Lindy. “I highly recommend the rouladen and the sp?tzle with purple cabbage. It’s one of our signature dishes. You can’t go wrong.”

“I’ve heard of sp?tzle, but not rouladen.”

    “It’s thinly sliced beef, layered with bacon and sliced onion, and then rolled around a thick slice of pickle. Trust me, Lindy, you won’t be disappointed.”

“Then that’s what I’ll have.”

Lindy did well to have taken Dan’s word, as the dinner was everything she’d hoped it would be. They lingered over a dessert called donauwelle. Dan explained that it was basically pound cake flavored with vanilla. Then the top was filled with cherries, a thick layer of buttercream, along with a thin covering of chocolate ganache. Every bite was pure heaven. The meal was finished with a cup of decaf coffee.

Dan escorted them to the door once they were ready to leave and handed them their coats. He took Lindy’s hand and kissed it. “Meeting you was a delight,” he said.