Christmas Eve at Rosey's Cafe

                                                               
     Working on a book titled, "Broken Glass in a Rear View Mirror." This is an excerpt from Christmas Eve in 1966. Mom and Dad were separated but still loved each other...

                                     
                                                    Christmas Eve at Rosey's Cafe

     Dad's leather jacket filled my nostrils with the aroma of a huge, pork tenderloin sandwich from Rosey's Cafe. Jimmy ran up to get a hug and quickly said, "I'm hungry, Dad!"
     He smiled, looked at Mom and asked, "Honey, would you like to go and get a bite to eat? The boys are hungry," as he stepped around her and gently rubbed her shoulders. Jimmy finished putting on his coat, hat, and mittens that hung on a peg and waited by the door.
     I liked to sit on a bar stool but Mom insisted we sit together as a family. Dad pulled out the red plaid, vinyl chair and waited till Mom was seated. The solid red formica table top greeted us with an eight inch, plastic, rosy-cheeked, smiling Santa, holding a few menus with outstretched arms and black-gloved hands. An emptied ashtray sat to Santa's left. As the waitress took our order, I watched a small puck gently slide over a sandy, wooden surface, tapping a stationary puck into the gutter.
     In approximately ten minutes, I heard a voice, "Hi, Shaney! Merry Christmas!"
     "Hi, Annie. Merry Christmas to you!" She wore a tight, red felt top with small, jeweled, green wreaths that circled each nipple, unaccompanied by a bra.
     "Okay, Sweetie, you had the tenderloin and rings?" Tiny bells on each wreath jingled as she placed the plate of food on the table.
     Mom's eyes drifted toward Dad, who sipped a beer with his face draped in innocence. His eyes watched me devour my first bite of a golden brown onion ring.
     Both seemed ready to burst into laughter.