The church bell tolled. Several smaller bells accompanied it a moment later. Together, they rang in perfect disharmony. From out his café windows, Roy gazed across the street at the brooding, gothic church that sat behind it’s weathered stone walls. It was strange; he hadn’t heard them ring before.

A calendar purchased from a general store counted the days, and he consulted it. The 4th marked his arrival to Solduen. From then till the 17th, grand opening day for the Red Moon Café, not a sound stirred from the church. Finger on the calendar, Roy traced through the dates. He sighed and left it, rubbing the back of his neck. It should have been obvious why the bells were ringing – the passage of time caught him woefully off guard. It felt like it was just yesterday Lord Einkraden informed him of his family’s fate. And today marked the 8th day his café was open. The bells tolled for Thanksgiving.

And then the bell rang for him. Another customer walked through the front door. Another order of bread loaves with little treats. From the moment he opened up, business was booming. The cobblestone pathway outside his café had passersby for once, and a few of them trickled in. It wasn’t even noon and he had to make another batch of bread and biscuits to keep up – and he was on his last loaf again.

In fact, business started to pick up the last two-to-three days (though not on the level of today). There was even an advance order from Mr. Horin. He wanted a vanilla cake for today. It was a challenge to keep up with the increased traffic, but Roy enjoyed serving the rush of customers. He only hoped he didn’t have more customers than he could handle, but if it ever came to that, someone would be hired to help immediately. It might not be much, but he was finally earning money. With his family’s wealth to support him, using all of his café’s earnings for an employee would be fine by him.

In the back of his head still was one concern. A quick survey of the café floor reminded him it was empty. No, he was mistaken; it wasn’t completely barren – he had forgotten that in the back-most booth, sipping tea with eased shoulders and a stern face, was An. She decided to grace the café with her perfect white skin, silk black hair, and gem-blue eyes today. But, she was the only one to do so. A vast majority came and went in mere minutes. Picking up coffee to go. Buying bread for the home. There were no problems with that – he was fine with it. He simply preferred it when people lounged in the café, relaxing with a hot latte, indulging in a captivating novel, enjoying the comfort. Very few people did that.

An shifted in the corner, adjusting herself in the booth. She looked at Roy. Then at the door.

And the bell rang for him. Another customer walked through the front door. She strode up to the counter and cheerfully greeted Roy, “Hello, again!”

“Oh, Hello!” Roy replied. ‘Again’ was right, he thought. With a rosy and vibrant face, the lady full of energy was here not for her first or second time, but for her third. She was the first to do so. “So what would you like today?” Roy asked with an extra sweetness. He was going to do his best to treat her right; his first customer to stop by three times – might be his first regular.

“Do you have hot chocolate?” She asked.

“Of course.”

“Then I’ll take that! Would be nice to have something warm on a cool day like today.” Her eyes wandered and fell onto the cookies that sat in the glass portion of the serving counter. “And some cookies too.”

He was glad he made a large batch. Everyone seemed to want chocolate chip cookies. “Not a problem,” Roy said with a smile. He left the lady at the counter and got to work.

There was a simply way to make hot chocolate – mix cocoa powder into milk, warm it, then make sure its mixed – but he felt like doing something a little fancy. In a small saucepan, he heated the milk. It began to steam and he then whisked in sugar, cocoa powder, salt, and vanilla extract. When it all dissolved in, he stirred in the chocolate until it simmered and melted with its sweet aroma wafting through the air. Heavy cream was prepared in a side bowl, mixed to the right, stiff form. He took the hot chocolate and poured it out in a cup. Gently, he folded the whipped cream on top of steaming milk in rising swirl.

He brought out and the drink and placed it before you. “Careful,” he warned, “It’s hot.” From the glass shelving, he brought out the cookies and finalized the order.

“Wow!” She beheld the drink with amazement. “Looks delicious!” She paid. Took the drink and cookies. Went to the booth in the front corner of the café and procured a book from her coat pocket.

Roy was a little disappointed; there was less fanfare than he had hoped. For his first three-peat customer – his first regular – he wanted to chat with her and get to know her. She was engrossed in her book. There was no talking to her now. He could only guess more about her from what he could see. Her hair was waist-long and a chestnut brown. Topped with a cloche, her clean white sweater and brown jacket gave her a stylish look. Maybe she was a designer of some sort, Roy mused. She appeared young as well – late twenties at most. He couldn’t tell for sure, and he wasn’t going to ever ask that question. Still, she came across as modern.

With the modern girl reading her book in the corner, all was quiet. Some time ago the church had stop ringing and the street outside was once again devoid of people. Everything was back too normal, except for An who still silently sat staring at Roy. He wondered what was going through that peculiar girl’s head. An impossible venture, he concluded. He couldn’t read her face as he could others. Reading her mind was too much to ask.

He stuck to what he could do. Mr. Horin gave an order the other day for a vanilla cake. During this peaceful time, he retreated into his kitchen and went to work. While he toiled, the bel rang again. Taking a peep outside his kitchen, he found an empty cup. The regular was gone, As for An, her back was propped against the wall, her legs stretched out. Eyes closed, her chest gingerly bobbed up and down. She looked to be sleeping.

He didn’t want to bother her, and there wasn’t a reason to bother her, so Roy retreated back into the kitchen. The cake was almost done. He wanted it finished as soon as possible – Mr. Horin could come by at any time and wanted the cake ready for him.

It was five till two, and the vanilla cake was finished. While the flavor was plain, simply vanilla, he added a little flair to the cake. Edible frills lined the top and a colorful flower design, just like in his lattes, centered the dessert. In a fancy box he purchased in bulk, he wrapped up the cake and brought it out to the front.

From dealing with the influx of customers, Roy was beat. He went to the door and flipped the sign from ‘Open’ to ‘Closed’. Today was a holiday and he was tied. Closing early for once was fine.

Grabbing himself a glass of water, he took seat at the counter and scratched the back of his neck, Except for the snoozing An, he was alone. Alone on Thanksgiving. Long ago, life was mired with war and strife, poverty and disaster. Not to say modern times are devoid of problems, but world history told a bloody tale. In the first real time of peace and prosperity centuries ago, Thanksgiving was established as a day of remembrance. Together, people would recall difficult times and then be thankful for peace that they had. It became tradition. Every year, families would gather together to remember, celebrate life, and be thankful.

Roy wondered what he could be thankful for.

An stretched out in her booth like a cat. She looked at the door for a moment then to Roy. Getting up, she said “I’m going upstairs.”

Before Roy could gather himself and respond, she was gone. Now he was all alone. He took out a cookie and munched on it.

A knock came from the front door some thirty minutes later. Roy got up from the booth he was snoozing in. Through the glass window, he saw Mr. Horin standing there. “Come in,” he said, “The door’s unlocked.”

The bell rang and Mr. Horin strode in. No matter how large the café was, he stood like a mountain. A giant in a hobbit’s hole. His polished bald head reflected the sun’s light, and he joked, “Afraid you went and closed on me. Not a lot of people do business on holidays, figured you decided to join them last minute.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Roy replied. He went over to the counter and checked the box and its contents once more. “If I said I’ll do it, then you can be sure I’ll at least try.”

Jim chuckled. “Never doubted you, but did you may any plans for today? With the closed sign out front, I thought you might have.”

“Here’s the cake,” Roy flipped up the box and spun it around to show Mr. Horin. “Everything on it is edible, the design and the frills on the edge. Would you like anything else? A drink? Cookies?”

“Dammit, maybe this was a mistake,” Jim chided himself, looking at the cake, “Sarah is not going to be happy that I brought more sugar into the house. Knowing her, she’s going to complain the loudest, then eat the most!” Mr. Horin asked again, “So, are you doing anything today? Any plans with your family?”

Roy’s gaze wandered. The café was a little dirty; he needed to clean it. He rubbed the back of his neck and finally said, “No plans.

The carpenter crossed his arms and frowned. His eyes studied Roy. He asked the boy, “Is there something wrong?”

“No,” Roy curtly snapped. “It’s nothing – don’t worry about it.”

“I’m a parent to three girls,” the father said, “I can tell when there’s a problem. What happened? Did you have a fight with your family?”

“No!’ Roy shouted. He slouched on a stool, planted his elbows on the counter, and ran his hands through his hair. “I can’t…” The Band-Aid on his heart tore and the blood flowed once more. “I can’t fight with them even if I wanted to,” the boy whimpered. “I can go home but, I can’t see them. I can’t talk to them. I can’t hear them. I can’t eat with them.” His eyes were burning. His head, pounding. He swallowed the stone in his throat, “I woke up one morning and that was it – my family was dead.”

Jim sighed and rubbed his bald head as if he had made a mistake like this one too many times. He pulled out a chair and sat across from Roy. “I’m sorry,’ he said, but Roy’s face dug into his hands. His apology was not acknowledged.

Jim spoke what came to his mind, “Seven years ago, I experienced one of the best days of my life. My beautiful wife gave birth to another healthy baby girl. She looked so much like her mother. It was an unforgettable moment.” He dug his hand into his shirt and pulled out a golden locket. He popped it open and gazed inside. Jim gently closed it and let it fall back underneath his shirt. “It was one of the best days of my life,” he said again, “But it was also the worst day in my life. Ever since we met 22 years ago, she was always by my side. No matter how much trouble I caused her with what I did, what I said, how I was, or even who I was, she was always there. A strong, fearsome woman with a heart of pure gold. I could always rely on her, but in her time of greatest need, I couldn’t do anything for her. The ordeal was too much – her body couldn’t take the toll. With her daughter in her arms and a smile on her face, she passed away.”

Roy peaked out from under his arms, his eyes red. “How did you get over it?” The boy asked.

“I didn’t,” the man replied with a sigh. “I never got over it – I only learned to live with it. With three girls to take care of, I had no choice.”

The two sat in silence. Mr. Horin cocked his head toward the front and said, “Poor day for rain, isn’t it?”

“It is,’ Roy replied, sipping water.

Rising from his seat, “How about this,” the carpenter asked, “Why don’t you join my family for Thanksgiving dinner tonight? We’d love to have you over.”

“I’ll see,” he said.

“None of that ‘I’ll see’,” Mr. Horin scoffed. As he went to the door, he remarked “I expect to see you tonight!” The mountain left the café, leaving Roy alone.

Roy looked around at the empty café. Of course, there was no one, but something caught his eye; Mr. Horin had left his cake on the counter. Roy rushed out, attempting to catch the carpenter, but outside he found that the man was long gone. He chuckled to himself and rubbed the back of his neck. The cake on the counter was now an excuse for him to show up. He would go, but first, the café needed to be cleaned.

Roy took his time. It was hours before dinner time, so he leisurely went about his chores. Cleaning the café, stocking his supplies, preparing for tomorrow, he took care of it all. When that was done, his body was screaming of exhaustion. Today had been a long day, physically and mentally. With time to spare, he indulged in a nap.

He rose with the setting sun – just in time for the dinner. Picking out one of his nicer pairs of clothing, he drew a hot bath and prepared himself. While he was getting ready, he stopped by An’s room.

She clearly wasn’t the social type, but Roy felt like he had to ask. His experience with her has been nothing short of strange; to say he was living with her even felt wrong. It was as if she was just there. And Roy didn’t want to be the source of that problem. He could offer her to go out, participate in the café and outside functions, but if she refused, that was her prerogative. At least he asked. At least he tried. That’s all he wanted.

A knock on the door was replied with “Come in.” She was at her desk rather than her bed this time.

“Sorry to bother you,” Roy said, “But Mr. Horin invited me to participate in Thanksgiving dinner with his family. Would you like to join?”

Her head slightly tilted and she rested her finger on her chin, “Do you want me to go?”

“Do you want to go?” He shot back.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Miss-no-preference replied.

Roy sighed. Why did she always act like this? “Ok how about this: would you rather just sit her doing nothing, or would you rather go and eat good food and spend time with Mr. Horin’s family?”

She contemplated her choices. “The latter,” she responded.

With a clap of his hands, Roy exclaimed, “Then it’s settled. Get ready. We will be going soon.”

“Is it okay for me to go?” An asked, interrupting Roy.

He furrowed his brow and frowned, “Why wouldn’t it be okay? Of course you can go. Now hurry up and put on your nicest clothes. It’s almost time to leave.” An slowly nodded her head and he left her to get ready.

She met him downstairs. The first thing Roy noticed was her clothes. A black and white dress decorated with frills. The skirt hanged to her knees, and black stockings covered her bare leg. It was practically the same dress she always wore – a maid dress that was only a notch fancier.

“Is that the only type of clothing you have?” Roy asked with a half-sigh, half-chuckle.

“Yes,” she instantly replied. “It’s all I ever used.”

Roy appraised the dress. It certainly looked great. It fit her form and curves perfectly and complimented her unblemished skin and silk-like hair. “Remind me to take you out later,” he said. “The dress looks great, but maybe we should expand your wardrobe a bit.” Roy read her face and found hints of confusion, so he explained, “It might be nice to wear something different for a change, wouldn’t you agree?” She stared at him. No reply. “Okay, well, it’s time to go,” Roy commented, changing the subject, “We don’t want to be late, do we?” Grabbing the cake from the counter a few extra goodies he prepared, and an umbrella, he led the way to Mr. Horin’s house.

The streets were completely empty. It felt like a ghost town. But, from each building and home, emitted the warm glow of lights. Everyone was home today, enjoying family, friends, and food. He knocked on the door of Mr. Horin’s house which gave off the same warmth.

“Glad to see you!” Mr. Horin exclaimed, answering the door. He nearly froze. “Oh, the Anorlynn is here…”

“She will be joining us tonight, is that fine?”

Jim composed himself, “O-of course it’s fine. In fact, it would be an honor.” He stepped out of the way, “Now get out of the rain and in here, you two.”

Roy and An obliged. Upon entry, An was immediately assaulted by two bundles of energy named Riza and Luna.

“It’s Anorlynn!” Riza shouted, tackling her leg with a hug. Luna joined the fray, taking the other leg.

“Get off her, you two!” Mr. Horin scolded them. “Show her a bit more respect.”

An waved him off, “It’s fine. I don’t mind.” She turned her attention to the two little kids, “Now what have you two been up to?” That set off the kids, and they began to talk non-stop about their day.

Roy saw a sliver of a smile on An’s face as she listened to the children’s exaggerated tales and adventures. He whispered to her, “Here, take this.”

An took a bag from his hands and asked, “What’s this?”

“Cookies,” he said with a smile. “Give them to the kids – they’ll love it.”

She appraised the bag. “Very well,” she said. “Now children, come with me. I have a treat for you.” Obediently, the Riza and Luna peeled themselves off of her and followed her into the house, trying their best to contain their excitement.

“How do you manage to handle those two every day?” Roy asked Jim with a laugh.

“Not by myself, that’s for sure!” Jim chuckled back at him. “Sarah does so much for them, it’s unbelievable. My daughters stick to each other like glue, and they would do anything for each other. Now, come help me set up in the kitchen. Sarah would probably like our help.” The two went into the kitchen and found Sarah spreading the dinner table. A finely roasted turkey centered the table. Surrounding it were buttered rolls, pumpkin pie, mashed potatoes, and cranberry sauce.

“Amazing,” Roy commented at the delectable spread. “I didn’t know you could cook like this, Sarah.”

Sarah turned from the table and scrunched her face at Roy, “Are you kidding me? I’m the only one who cooks around here. I better be good at it.” Roy looked at Mr. Horin. He just shrugged guiltily. “Besides, what are you doing here,” Sarah questioned Roy.

“Well…” Roy held up the cake. “Mr. Horin asked me to make a cake for him, and he forgot to pick it up today.”

“Sorry about that again, Roy,” Mr. Horin said, taking the cake. “I figured that since he is here, he might as well join us for dinner.”

“That’s fine and all, but stop bringing damn sweets into the house all the time! I always end up as the one dealing with Riza and Luna after they eat a lot of sugar.” She crossed her arms. “It’s not fun!”

Roy tensed his throat, “Uh… Maybe I shouldn’t have brought more cookies then…”

Sarah threw up her hands, “God dammit. I guess today is an exception since its Thanksgiving, but both of you, stop it!” She scolded the two men who nervously chuckled.

Roy went over to the table and gave Sarah a hand in setting it. “What have you been up to?” He asked her.

“Nothing much,” she shrugged, “Just looking for a job to do after I graduate next month.”

“Ah, I see.” An idea came into Roy’s head. “You know, business in my café has picked up substantially recently. I’ve been wanting some extra help around. If you needed a job, I could give you one?”

She raised an eyebrow, “Really? I might take you up on that offer, but I’ll need to look around first.”

“Of course, go ahead,” he said.

With the table set, Mr. Horin rounded up his little ones. It was finally time to eat. Roy offered to carve the turkey – he had always done it before. Everyone sat around the table: Jim, Sarah, Riza, and Luna. He cut a slice of turkey, plopped it on a plate, and passed it down. Luna and Riza sat on either side of An, stuffing their faces with cookies. An cracked a smile watching them chump on them. Meanwhile, Sarah was still chewing out Mr. Horin for his sugary transgressions. There was a special love in the air, he noted. A warm and welcoming atmosphere. He gave his thanks. It might not be his family, Roy thought, but it was a family none-the-less. He carved out another piece. It would have to do.

-----------------------

Aaaaaa, again this turned out longer than I expected! This chapter was rather difficult to write, but what can you do, I guess. Again, if you have any questions are comments, please feel free to leave them! Until next time~