“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 forGood Morning, USA’svisit 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.”
