Love Off the Ice

Mayor’s Daughter

With a firm hand, Nana ushered Lisa away from the table, her voice a low murmur. "Let me handle this, dear," she said, her eyes filled with seriousness.

Lisa, her heart still beating from the confrontation, nodded silently and followed her grandmother towards the kitchen. Nana squeezed her hand reassuringly, her touch a source of comfort and strength.

In the kitchen, Nana took a deep breath, her gaze steady and unwavering. She returned to the dining area, her steps echoing on the wooden floor.

"Now, young lady," she began, her voice calm but firm, "I understand that there seems to be some confusion with your order. However, I assure you that my granddaughter has accurately recorded your request."

The girl, her face flushed with anger, opened her mouth to protest, but Nana held up her hand, silencing her.

"Please allow me to take your order again," Nana continued, her voice low. "And this time, I suggest you be very clear about what you want."

The girl, taken aback by Nana's authoritative demeanour, hesitated for a moment before reluctantly repeating her order. Nana listened patiently, her eyes fixed on the girl's face.

Once the girl had finished, Nana nodded curtly. "Very well," she said. "Your order will be ready shortly."

Nana then turned to the men, her gaze softening slightly. "And for you gentlemen, is there anything else I can get you?"

The men shook their heads, their faces flushed with embarrassment. "No, ma'am," one of them stammered. "We're fine."

With a gentle smile, Nana thanked them and returned to the kitchen, leaving the girl and her companions fuming in her wake.

As Nana bustled about the kitchen, preparing the girl's order, Lisa watched her with admiration. Her grandmother's calm and assertive demeanor had completely disarmed the arrogant girl, leaving her speechless and subdued.

"You were amazing, Nana," Lisa said, her voice filled with awe.

Nana chuckled softly. "It's just a matter of knowing how to handle people, dear," she replied, a twinkle in her eyes. "Sometimes, a little firmness is all it takes to set things straight."

Lisa nodded in agreement, her heart filled with gratitude for her grandmother's wisdom and strength. She knew that with Nana by her side, she could face any challenge that came her way.

“Man, I will check out on Uncle James.”

Soon Lisa was in the kitchen, She spotted Uncle James, the town's beloved baker, his burly figure hunched over a countertop, his hands expertly kneading dough.

"Uncle James!" she called out, her voice carrying over the gentle hum of the cafe.

Uncle James turned, his face crinkling into a warm smile. "Ah, Lisa! Just in time to sample my latest creation." He gestured towards a tray of freshly baked cookies, their chocolate chips melting enticingly.

Lisa's stomach rumbled in appreciation, but her mind was preoccupied. "What are you baking, Uncle James?" she asked, her eyes scanning the array of pastries and loaves lining the shelves.

"Oh, this and that," he replied with a chuckle. "Cakes, pies, cookies... you name it, I'm baking it." He winked. "Got to be prepared for the big event, you know."

“Alright then, I will leave you to it.” She said before stepping out to check on the customers.

Lisa's jaw dropped as she watched the trio and the arrogant girl stride out of the cafe without a word, their unpaid bill lying abandoned on their table. "Hey!" she shouted, abandoning her customer momentarily. "You haven't paid!"

But they were already out the door, their laughter echoing faintly as they piled into a sleek, black car parked outside. Lisa rushed out, her frustration mounting. "Stop! Come back here!"

Her cries were met with the roar of the engine as the car sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust fumes and swirling snow in its wake. Lisa stood there, fuming, her hands clenched into fists.

As the car disappeared down the street, a chilling realization washed over her. The expensive, black car... wasn't that the same one that had nearly run her over outside the train station just yesterday? The same car with the tinted windows and the obnoxious driver who had sped past without a second glance?

Fury surged through Lisa. "No wonder!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with anger and disbelief. "So they're not just rude and arrogant, they're reckless and irresponsible too!"

She stomped back into the cafe, her anger radiating off her like heat from a furnace. "Nana!" she cried, bursting into the kitchen. "Those people, they just left without paying!"

Nana, who was calmly stirring a pot of soup, looked up in surprise. "Left without paying? But who...?"

Lisa launched into a furious retelling of the events, her voice rising with each word. "They were so rude, Nana! The girl kept changing her order, and the guy had his feet on the table! And then they just walked out like they owned the place!"

Nana listened patiently, a small smile playing on her lips. When Lisa had finished, she gently patted her hand. "Now, now, dear," she said soothingly. "Don't get yourself all worked up. It's alright."

"Alright?" Lisa sputtered. "But Nana, they didn't pay!"

Nana chuckled softly. "Oh, those youngsters," she said dismissively. "Don't you worry about them. They're the mayor's daughter, and the deputy mayor's son with their friends. Their parents settle their tabs at the end of the month."

Lisa's eyes widened in disbelief. "The mayor's daughter?" she repeated, her voice filled with a mixture of shock and disgust. "So that's why they think they can get away with anything! Spoiled brats, the lot of them!"

She balled her hands into fists, her anger simmering. It all made sense now – the arrogance, the entitlement, the complete disregard for others. They were used to getting their way, to having everything handed to them on a silver platter.

Lisa let out a frustrated sigh. It seemed that even in the peaceful haven of Evergreen, she couldn't escape the unpleasant realities of the world. But one thing was certain: she wouldn't let these spoiled brats ruin her Christmas spirit. She would enjoy her time with Nana, embrace the festive cheer, and maybe, just maybe, teach those entitled youngsters a lesson or two about humility and respect.