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Some days you just get patrons that all coincidentally order the same thing – and you’re just there with your notepad wondering if the planets had all aligned today.

Same toppings, same dressings... over time you’d end up eventually grasping only empty air on the shelves, so what do you do then?

Why, you go ’round the back of course. Refill, reload and replenish.

Which is exactly what I did... hugging cartons of dairy, standing on tiptoe for the can of whipped cream, trying not to trip.

Agonizingly mind-numbing after two trips in a row, sure, but hey, it’s honest work.

Besides, back here... sometimes you get to inadvertently overhear things that you couldn’t out there.

.....

The manager’s door nearby slightly hung ajar, and I quietly shuffled closer... forgot the whipped cream was on the other shelf actually.

“- be there, right?” echoed the tail-end of a question from the crack in the doorway.

I meticulously scoured our stocks, double-checking that there wasn’t anything I was forgetting, and as I did, I heard more from the narrow gap.

“It’s Christmas Eve, Dad. You’re not spending it alone. Didn’t you go on vacation? The one you didn’t bother to tell anyone about? That’s plenty enough time on your own.”

We’re probably running low on strawberries too, come to think of it. Should probably take a fair few just in case.

“No, I’m coming over. I’m bringing Hayley. You’ve eaten Christmas dinners alone for long enough. Agreed?”

Something light and quick then tapped me on the shoulder – I jumped, almost scattering and spilling my entire paycheck on the floor.

“Stealing, are we now? Or slacking, perhaps?” a whisper behind me came wry and soft. “Eavesdropping, maybe?”

Slowly, I turned around, coming face-to-face with the smiling face of the winter rose of the north pole herself. Hayley raised a brow, still awaiting my answer.

I just shoved the entire collection in my arms at her, “Replenishing, actually.”

“Well, could have fooled me,” She said, beginning to pace a slow circle around me... like a vulture to a carcass. “You’ve been standing here for so long, people could get the wrong idea. Apparently, I certainly did.”

“Taking inventory,” I quickly reasoned. “Anyway, that’s me done. So I’m going back now.”

I stepped out of her circle, hurriedly making my way back out front, and that’s when I felt the same quick tap on my shoulder again.

“Actually, while I still have you,” Hayley lowered her gloved hand back down. “I was wondering if you have any plans on Christmas? Do you?”

I just sighed, and continued walking leaving her with an answer that did not satisfy neither her nor I. “I’m still trying to figure that out myself, honestly...”

In the end, Harry had indeed stayed true to his words. Everything was still the same, as if nothing had happened at all. No advances, no regression – just stagnant.

I thought maybe there might be a change, a new leaf turned, a new page flipped... if only partly...

But judging from what the gruff whispers in the doorway had to say... I suppose not.

Not that it’s any of my business, of course. Way beyond my pay grade anyway...

With orderly fashion and efficiency, I had everything dwindled and depleted, restocked, and replaced at a timely pace.

I closed the cabinets, shut the drawers, and held my head high behind the counter, eager to serve and please once more – and the nearest patron in need?

Amanda still with her arms folded across her chest... playing too well the part of a satisfied customer no longer.

I forced a smile. “More coffee, lovely lady?”

Seething and silent, Amanda raised her still brimming cup to her lips, skewering me with sharp eyes over the rims all the while.

“No coffee, then,” I muttered.

Her cup landed firm with a clatter. “No coffee, but how about an answer? Service seems to be pretty slow around here – I still haven’t gotten it, you know? Should I speak to the manager?”

Your middle name Karen?

“But I did give you an answer,” I said instead.

“Oh, that? You mean that? You call that an answer? ‘I’ll think about it’, isn’t an answer!” She retorted. “If anything, it’s a non-answer. Which is all the more infuriating.”

Ah, man... what a troublesome customer I’m faced with today. If she just weren’t so darn cute when she’s upset, I’d probably be more than happy to show her the door.

“Besides,” She huffed, falling back on her seat in a slump. “What’s there to even think about anyway?”

I was about to answer that, had an answer prepared and ready to recite – but instead, I was beaten to it.

Spoken bluntly at that, perhaps too bluntly at that...

“Well for starters, there’s Adalia, there’s the Elf, of course there’s you, and let’s not forget...” a ruffle of pages, and from the other end of the counter, Irene turned away from her notes, shifting her dreary gaze towards us. “There’s also me to think about too, yes?”

“Yeah, okay, sure, but...” Amanda sputtered about. “No one has asked him yet! And you certainly didn’t!”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“First come first serve!” Amanda said, laying down the law. “That’s how we play it on Earth. Gotta play by our rules now, sorry.”

“Fair sentiments,” Irene calmly muttered. “Selfish, but fair sentiments nonetheless. I don’t mind it. Except...” slowly her eyes began to drift over towards me squarely. “Just look at your darling boyfriend there. Does he look the least bit selfish to you?”

Amanda blinked. Irene just blew a breath, gulping down the last of her drink.

“I know my boyfriend isn’t...”

A single question, the critical blow – and Amanda snapped her eyes back at me... and with a heavy heart, I had no choice but to affirm her words with a reluctant nod.

Irene hit the nail on the head.

Exactly my sentiments, except I’d had worded it a little nicer... which was originally what I had planned, and would have preferred... because now Amanda just looked disheartened, groaning out her final breath before slumping lifeless against the counter like she just got shot in the head, or the heart for that matter...

Meanwhile, the assailant simply ignored her victim, diverting back to the mess of papers in front of her, clicking a pen with one hand, and tapping a finger with the other – another order.

“Coming right up,” I affirmed, hands already in motion.

Ever since returning, I could almost always expect Irene’s hunch, huddled figure afar in the corner slaving away in heaps and mounds of paperwork that never seem to decrease.

She claims she only comes in solely because it’s an easy commute... but according to eyewitness testimonials of colleagues and employers alike, the scary detective lady only ever comes when I’m on shift that day.

Must just be a coincidence.

I placed the steaming new cup in an empty space between all her scattered pages, which she took wordlessly and immediately began sipping away.

She was wearing black today – again. Not that I was complaining. Those high-heel boots, that buttoned turtleneck coat, with her already breathtaking complexion... it really oughta be outlawed – shit’s a road hazard.

“What’s work now?” I inquired, making small talk. “Drug smuggling? Slave tradings? Murder on the Orient Express?”

Her pen flew across the page, promptly setting it aside, before scribbling away on another, then with a bitter taste in her lips, she quietly answered, “Influencers...”

“Influencers,” I repeated, a peculiar rowdy one instantly coming to my mind. “Any in particular?”

“The clout-chasing kind...” Irene said, irritably brushing her loose bangs away. “There’s a new trend spreading online as of late...”

“Really?”

First I heard of it. Then again, I’m not exactly the target demographic.

“Oh, I think I know which...” Amanda suddenly chimed in, rousing back to life, her squished, crestfallen face staring back at us from a distance. “The stupid ritual thing, right? Yeah, I get it, it’s stupid.”

Irene nodded, the both of them. exchanging weary gazes. I just stood there clueless, but alarm bells were ringing in my head. Anything involving the magical and mystical tends to set it off.

“Nothing concerning,” Irene assured, catching my expression. “Just idiots breaking and entering into properties, vandalizing the place with runes and glyphs to try and pass it off as a recent satanic gathering...”

“And scare folks, record their reactions, get clicks,” Amanda finished. “Like I said – stupid.”

“And many don’t succeed,” another paper done, and Irene paused to stroke her worn expression. “Which is how I end up with paperwork.”

I looked on at her pile again, this time with a newfound perspective and sympathy.

“Don’t you have other officers for this? I asked. “What’s a detective like yourself doing hung up with misdemeanors?”

“Short on manpower,” came her faint mutter, and with a resounding click of her pen, resumed her scribbling. “I volunteered.”

“Why?”

“Because I thought it could potentially turn out to be something, after all.” Irene briefly glanced at me again. “But like I said – it’s nothing.”

“Yep, just stupid people being stupid...” Amanda half-distractedly muttered, her face faintly aglow by the glare of her phone. “Shoot, I gotta go. Rehearsal’s about to start.”

She stood up, and I hastily moved over, ringing her up on the cashier, and handing her receipt with a complimentary candy cane tossed in, which she took with a smile and a chuckle.

“Your way of apology?” She asked.

“Nope,” I said, closing the register. “Complimentary. Just don’t tell my boss, is all. He doesn’t know that.”

Then she lifted her eyes, softened her stare. “You will think about it, right?”

“You’ll have me at the next rehearsal, Amanda,” quickly, I brush my hand across her cheek. “We’ll talk about it more then, alright?”

.....

“Alright,” She replied, returning my gesture with a peck on the cheek. “I’ll text you the date later. I’ll see you then.”

Amanda left the premise to the bitter, howling cold outside with a lingering smile on her face – as a satisfied customer.

Except I didn’t wish her Merry Christmas, goddamn it.

“Well, I’m glad you and her will at least be having fun,” remarked Irene, a dull stare trailing Amanda away all the away across the road.

I walked back over towards her. “You can have fun too – I heard we’re still in need of some extras.”

“I’ll pass,” Irene said, seemingly revolted at the prospect of fun. “More importantly, so? Who will you be taking?”

I frowned. “Taking?”

“Christmas,” She elaborated. “You and I both know you’ve a wide array of tempting choices that’ll happily say ‘yes’. Question is – who will you be saying the question to?”

“Well...” I pondered the thought. “That’d be telling.”

“So you haven’t decided,” Irene said, reading me like an open book. “Not surprising.”

“I will... eventually...”

“And I’m sure you will.”

Things like this. My whole life, I haven’t given it much thought. Before Christmas was just like any other day to me. Suffice it to say, can’t think like that anymore.

“Well, just putting it out there...” Irene coughed, lifting her cup to her lips to stifle it. “My schedule is pretty open on that day... coincidentally... so if you still haven’t decided... then well...”

Her eyes met mine, and I got the hint, the message – why she drowned the rest of the words in a gulp.

Seems detectives do like some fun, after all. As they do say, all work and no play...

I just smiled, giving her a small wink.

“I’ll think about it.”