Secret Recipe

Flash Fiction 01

A vignette featuring characters from my current novel in progress.

Photo by Yang on Unsplash

Icy wind licked at my bare hands as I held the white mug like a flame in front of me. 

 “Mmmm.” Joe Shelley smacked his lips. “It’s decided: the holiday market hot cocoa is the best in town, but still not better than my mom’s.”

Steam twirled upward, mingling with his breath.

He looked around the park and said, “I’m gonna get outta here. Join the Air Force one day, like my dad. Gonna see the whole world and I doubt I’ll find hot cocoa like hers.”

I tipped my head to the side. “Wow. That must be an incredible recipe.”

Joe smiled, looking down the hill to the park’s carousel. His eyes shimmered like sea glass reflecting the dancing lights.

“Well, I love the park’s hot cocoa.” I offered.  “I’ve been bringing my sisters here for years for the Christmas carousel. I sit at the bench with a mug just like this while I watch them.” The carousel organ belted the tune of “Silver Bells” while I brought my mug to the counter. “You know, Joe, I just realized that I’ve never actually ridden it.” Before I could second-guess myself, the words tumbled out, “Would you like to ride the carousel with me?”

His eyes darted between me and the carousel. “Alright, let’s give it a whirl.”

We tiptoed around ice, salt crunching underfoot. Joe was quiet. I wanted to fill the silence, but I was worrying about whether he liked me and didn’t want to say the wrong thing.

He took the turn to say something. “My parents met in line for this carousel the night it opened back in ‘41.”

“Well that’s some way to meet. Tell me the story?”

Joe’s arm tensed and he swallowed hard.

“My dad was working for the park, getting it all ready for the carousel opening. He was still hanging sashes on horses while Mama was in line for the first ride. ‘Course she struck the conversation.” He grinned, shaking his head. “Now almost 18 years later, she’s the heartbeat of our family.” He eyed the carousel ahead. “I kinda wonder which horse she rode. Never asked her.”

When we reached the winding line around the carousel, the attendant waved and hollered at Joe.

“Hullo, stranger!” Joe called back.

Joe’s first true smile of the night transformed his face. The smile came and went several times as we made our way towards the young man with dark hair slicked back like a greaser.  

The friend jutted his chin at me, smiling, “Who’s the pretty lady?”

“I’m Dottie. Who are you?” I extended my hand for a shake, but he must not have seen it because he did not take my hand.

“I’m Charlie. Me and Blondie here go way back.” His eyes met Joe’s as he drew in a breath. “By the way, how’s your mom doing?”

Joe froze while Charlie counted guests we let pass by. Charlie put his hand up to halt a family of four. “We’ll get your family on the next ride.” He kept an easy smile and looked back to Joe.

“She’s great.” Joe murmured. “Thanks for checking on us.”

Charlie exhaled. “What a relief.” His eyes drifted back to me as he gestured toward the wrought iron entry. “Your chariot awaits.”

Joe and I stepped up and walked separately, searching the merry-go-round and could not find horses next to each other. I pretended I didn’t mind. “We can get off and let kids ride,” I called over the people between us.

Joe insisted we keep scouting around the twirly gold poles. I liked his walk: head bowed gently downward, shoulders hung bravely forward. It was a gracious way for a tall boy to move. So distracted with studying him, I was motionless until he waved for me to join him around the deck.

The carousel started its rotation as I found Joe in a red chariot. “Best I can do,” he said, “but at least we can sit together instead of racing these wild beasts. No telling where we’d end up.”

We laughed as I slid in, realizing how small the bench was. The wooden side came up so high I couldn’t see over the edge, though Joe’s entire viewpoint was above the frame. It was hard against my elbow, giving me an excuse to lean into him.

The merry go round pulled us forward as the organ blared “It Came Upon A Midnight Clear.”

I hummed along, reminding myself to breathe as Joe’s leg relaxed against mine. He exhaled and turned to me. Lights twinkled in his eyes through flecks of blues and greens. My heart melted into my stomach as I hoped Charlie would keep the music playing, time spinning.

Joe’s smile faded as he licked his lips, drawing in another breath. My throat tightened as he kept his eyes fixed on mine, searching.

Then he let go and whispered, “My mama died three months ago.”

My date’s confounding words mingled with the carousel’s melody, O ye beneath life’s crushing load. Air finally escaped my throat, unable to carry useful words. My thoughts raced round and round for something soothing to say. I could only fix on the words I knew to the organ’s tune. O rest beside the weary road, and hear the angels sing!

He shook his head, his eyes filling with tears. “I’m sorry, Dottie. I shouldn’t have blurted that out on our first date. Thought I’d act like she’s not gone, like Dad’s doing. But—”   

Tears paused at his cheekbones before slipping down his face. I still didn’t know what to say, so I offered him the careful smile I offered my sisters when they were uncertain. And I took his hand, lacing my icy fingers between his, resting our hands on my knee.

The organ’s melody blurred towards the back of my mind as our wooden chariot continued in the same slow circle over and over. The horses in front and behind us moved up and down, never quite lining up, so no one would win and no one would lose.

When the ride slowed down, I found my voice. “How did your mom make her hot cocoa?”

He laughed softly and shook his head. “Those new packs from Swiss Miss. With milk. And she always stayed at the table to drink it with me.”

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