16. The Unusual Table

Chapter 16

The Unusual Table

R ed ribbons adorned the tops of green wreaths that decorated every lamp post. Orangish-white lights illuminated the town center. Holiday shoppers entered and exited the stores carrying brightly colored packages and bags. A light snow fell on the area, enough to cover the ground and provide a festive touch to the surrounding buildings. A stark contrast to the foreboding, nighttime sky above as the clouds swirled and stewed, and the snow fell.

Hugo and Alice strolled in unison down the sidewalk. Their pair of steps left temporary impressions in the blanket of snow. She wrapped her arm around his torso, leaning into him. Her head and brimmed wool hat rested on his shoulder. Hugo was between her and the traffic on the streets. His arm wrapped around Alice’s body, drawing her closer to him. They received the occasional odd glance, but were mostly greeted by smiling, welcoming faces.

They continued through the town center until they arrived at their destination, Antonio’s Italian Ristorante. They hesitated outside the door and below the red, green, and white awning. Their colors matched the festive atmosphere in the town .

“Are you sure about this?” Alice asked. She lifted her head and found his eyes. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. We can always go someplace else.”

His gaze focused on the table in the window’s corner. Empty. Waiting. He responded, “I’m sure.”

He paused for a moment to gather the courage. He wanted to continue.

He smiled at Alice to remove the worry from her face. The fear faded as she smiled back. He opened the door, motioned with his head, and held it.

“Ladies first,” he said as he waved her to go in.

Alice entered with a smile, her nose turned up to the sky. He followed behind.

Antonio’s Italian Ristorante bustled with activity. People ate dinner as the night settled. Hugo and Alice approached the host standing at a podium.

“Hello, and welcome back to Antonio’s Italian Ristorante. How many will be joining you tonight?” the host asked.

“Umm, just the two of us. Reservation under Dodds,” Hugo replied. “The usual table this time, please.”

“Right this way,” the host said as he grabbed two menus.

The host guided them along a familiar path—a path Hugo had taken many times before. They weaved around a few tables, merely momentary obstacles, to their fated seats. The host placed the menus across from each other. The white linen tablecloth, nearly immaculate, draped over the round table. Neatly folded black napkins. A red Venetian candle jar rested in the center. The light flickered back and forth inside. The snowy setting outside was a backdrop for their evening through the corner windows.

“Enjoy,” the host said before departing.

Hugo helped remove Alice’s tailcoat and set it down on his seat. He held the seat while she sat down.

“Such a gentleman,” she said.

“Well, I try to be,” he replied as she helped push in her chair .

Alice removed her hat and handed it to Hugo. He took them over to one of the many coat racks placed throughout the restaurant. He took off his black wool winter coat and placed it next to hers. He returned and sat in his usual seat, the one in the corner of the window.

They watched through the window as the freshly falling snow enshrouded the landscape like their own personal snow globe. The white blanket covered the parked cars and sidewalks with a fine layer of powder. The perfect snowy canvas imprinted with the footprints of people passing by outside. The orange glow of the town lights splashed across the low hanging blanket of clouds swirling above. The restaurant was crowded, but to Hugo, they were the only two in this intimate setting.

“It’s very beautiful,” Alice said.

“It’s why we always tried to get this table,” Hugo replied. “It offers the best possible views both outside and inside.”

He found Alice’s eyes, focusing on her wide-eyed gaze. He smiled, and she returned the gesture. The purple hair. Her emerald green eyes. It drove him wild. He wanted to launch himself across this table into her waiting arms. He hadn’t felt this emotional since—

“Welcome back, buddy boy,” a familiar Italian accented voice interrupted. The strong smell of cheap cologne filled his nostrils. “How you doin’?”

Hugo shook his hand. “Good to see you, Antonio. Packed house tonight.”

“We manage. We manage,” he said before turning his attention to Alice. “I saw you walk in with a pretty girl, but I didn’t think she’d be this stunning up close. Antonio Moretti. A pleasure to meet you.” He extended out his hand toward her.

She shook his hand. “Alice Primrose. A pleasure as well. Hugo here told me that this was the best Italian restaurant in the state.”

“The world,” Antonio replied. “The world. Don’t forget, they know about our meatballs back in Italy. ”

Alice gave Hugo a discerning glance. She jokingly scolded him, “You didn’t tell me this is world famous.”

“Must have slipped my mind,” he replied with a deadpan expression.

“Hugo here is the best guy I know, and I know a lot of people.” Antonio patted him on the back with his thick hand. “Don’t let him fool ya. Hugo Dodds can be quite the scoundrel, if you know what I mean.” He winked at Hugo and completed his familiar wingman routine.

“Oh, I know,” Alice answered back. “I found out firsthand how much of a scoundrel he can be.”

She winked at Hugo, and he blushed with embarrassment. Hugo rubbed his forehead as if he was invoking some magical ritual that would cause him to disappear from the room. It failed.

“What can I get you two to drink?”

“What’s tonight’s wine special?” Alice asked. “Hugo is something of a wine connoisseur, and I’m sure he’d tell you all the great things about it.”

Alice placed an elbow on the table. She rested her chin in her palm and smiled a mischievous grin toward Hugo. She winked. Hugo rolled his eyes, and she blew him a kiss.

“Oh, a connoisseur?” Antonio remarked. “How about the best bottle for our resident wine connoisseur?”

Hugo jolted from the heft of Antonio’s hand as he lightly smacked Hugo on the back. Antonio meandered away from the table.

“Connoisseur? Really ?” Hugo playfully asked.

She winked at him. “A bit of pre-dinner flirting, my dear.”

“You know, you could get on the wine list here. Think about it. Locally brewed wine. Here at Antonio’s.”

Alice dropped her gaze. She unfurled the black napkin and set it on her lap. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

“Why not? You do make some good wine. Even if you took the extra special bits out. Between this place and the Raskin’s Market, you’d make a fortune. It’s what you want, isn’t it? ”

“I don’t know. I already got a good thing going,” Alice replied. “I mean I want to, but I don’t want to ruin it with Ez.”

“Think about it. Talk to her.” Hugo grabbed the menu. “Besides, I’m sure you could work it into the deal so we can get free food all the time.”

Alice paused and shot a disparaging glance at Hugo.

He buried his face behind the menu.

“Free food?”

He lowered the menu, meeting her eye to eye. “Well—” he started. “You would brew the wine. I, the local wine connoisseur, would approve of said wine. We should get our meals comped because we’d be here all the time, anyway.”

He winked back. She cut off his gaze with her menu.

A waitress approached the table. She carried two empty wineglasses and a greenish-black bottle. She set the glasses down in front of them and presented the bottle, holding it so the label was clearly displayed.

“A new offering, compliments of Antonio himself,” the waitress said.

Their eyes locked on the familiar black and gray label and the elegant white lettering. The gold crown. The playing card suits. The heart on top.

“A bottle of Red-Hearted Queen .”

Alice and Hugo locked eyes with each other. They arched their eyebrows with widened eyes and lips curled up. Hugo slightly shrugged his shoulders. Alice shrugged her shoulders with a slight head tilt in response. He assumed she had the same reservations he did about this particular brand. Hugo turned his attention to the waitress.

“That’ll be fine,” he said.

The waitress set the bottle on the table. She produced a winged corkscrew from her apron pocket and placed it atop the neck of the bottle. The wings lifted as she twisted it deeper into the soft wood cork. Each twist brought back memories of the bitter taste .

“There is definitely something else in this.” The memory rushed back of Alice’s initial assessment when taking that first sip. The memory of the bitter taste. Nothing like he’d ever tasted before in wine.

I should turn this down, but I can’t offend Antonio. Suck it up and drink it.

The waitress pushed down on the handles, and a small pop broke the silence at the table. The cork was free from its hiding spot. Hugo watched every motion intently.

She removed the corkscrew and poured wine into both glasses. “I’ll give you two a few minutes to look over the menu.”

They gave each other unknowing glances.

“Well, Mr. Connoisseur,” Alice egged him on. “Try it out.”

Hugo grabbed the stem of the wineglass. He examined the reddish-purple liquid inside. He spun the glass around, releasing the aromatic flavors held within. He raised the glass to his nose, taking in all the smells.

“Fruity. Earthy. A hint of oak,” Hugo said.

“So far, so good,” Alice replied.

Hugo took a sip. He sloshed the liquid back and forth in his mouth. His taste buds savored the liquid before he gulped it down. His face contorted, not out of disgust, but frustration. There was a distinct taste, but he could not figure it out.

“There is a hint of something,” Hugo said. “I still don’t know what.”

Alice grabbed her glass. She swirled it around and sniffed the inside before taking a sip. She made a face as the liquid washed over her taste buds. She swirled it around in her mouth before taking a drink. Her head tilted. Hugo thought she was searching for the answer about the mysterious ingredient.

“I don’t know what that is,” she replied. “There’s something in this wine. I can’t place it.”

Hugo took another sip. “I think yours is better.”

Alice smiled and raised her glass. “A toast.”

Hugo followed suit. “A toast to what? ”

“A beautiful evening with a handsome guy, whom I’m proud to see have the courage to be at this table tonight.”

He glanced down at the black onyx ring on his hand. His head swirled, and his stomach twisted in knots. His body shivered as though his soul rattled. A jolt ran up his spine.

“Aren’t the decorations beautiful?” Elizabeth said to Hugo. “I love the falling snow at Christmas time.”

Hugo lurched back in his seat, shocked to see Elizabeth’s face. Her hazel eyes. Her auburn hair. Her infectious smile. She now sat at the table in place of Alice.

“Is everything okay, Hugo?”

“You’re not here,” Hugo said. “You’re not supposed to be here. Where is she?”

“Where is who?” Elizabeth asked.

“Alice.” He raised his voice. “Where is Alice?”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

There was an eerie silence. No commotion from the various diners. No staff walking about. Only silence. He scanned the restaurant and found it barren. Tables and chairs were empty. The host was no longer at his familiar position, ready to greet anyone walking through the door. Antonio was nowhere to be found. He frantically searched, trying to find Alice. There was only the two of them. He set the glass down on the table. His face was pale—any sense of joy and excitement now gone.

“She was right there. Right where you’re sitting,” he yelled as he turned his attention back to Elizabeth. “Where did she go?”

“Hugo, you’re scaring me,” Elizabeth said with a frightened tone. She set her glass down.

“This isn’t how it happened,” Hugo said.

“How what happened?” Elizabeth asked as Hugo leapt from his chair. “Where are you going?”

“I have to get out of here,” he exclaimed.

He ran through the empty restaurant, weaving around the tables. He followed the familiar path to the exit. He tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge. He tried again. It was unrelenting. He pulled and jostled at the door, but nothing happened.

“You can’t leave, Hugo,” Elizabeth said. “You can’t abandon me.” She rose from the table. Her arms were rigid at her side while her shoulders raised. Her head tilted, and her normally hazel eyes glowed red. “You can’t leave, Hugo. You’re here with me. Forever. Like you promised.”

She crept toward Hugo. The table and chairs pushed aside, screeching across the floor as she rambled into them. Her eyes grew brighter as she approached.

“Stay with me, Hugo,” she pleaded. “Stay with me forever. Like you promised.”

He pulled at the door, but it wouldn’t budge. He pulled again and again. It wouldn’t give way. He slammed his shoulder into the glass, trying to break free. Over and over. Each time, he bounced further and further away as it felt like the glass was growing stronger.

The top of the door bled wine from the outside. The reddish-purple liquid covered up the picturesque winter landscape he was trying to escape to. He recoiled in fear, letting out a scream.

He grabbed a chair and gave thought to smashing the nearest window. He reared back, ready to strike with all his might. He stopped. Each window bled wine now. The wine covered windows cut off the outside world. The restaurant grew dim.

Elizabeth crept closer and closer. Each step lingered to allow the fear to set in. The lights from the Venetian candle jars faded as she passed. Her face decayed and sunk with each step. Her skin shriveled, giving her a skeleton like appearance. Her ghastly hand outstretched. The skeleton like fingers clawed at the air, beckoning Hugo.

“You said you’d love me forever, Hugo,” Elizabeth cried out in a dark, agonized tone. It almost echoed on every word as it filled Hugo’s ears. “You said we’d be together. Forever. And now we will.”

The light faded. The restaurant grew darker.

Hugo slammed the chair into the glass window only for it to bounce off. He tried again. The window grew stronger with every blow. He threw the chair across the ground to impede her progress, but she pushed it aside. She never wavered.

He screamed in frustration as he pulled at the door in one last desperate attempt. Her hand brushed against his face. The terror set in—the realization that there was no escape.

“You’re mine, Hugo Dodds,” Elizabeth said in a deep voice conjured from a place of darkness Hugo dared to not venture. “You’re mine. Now and forever.”

Her hand engulfed his face. A cold sensation ripped through his body toward his soul. Everything became dark as the world faded away. There was nothing, only darkness. A rush of emotions overcame Hugo—loneliness, isolation, desperation, sadness, horror, fear. He swirled in a vortex of pain and suffering in this empty void.

“Forever,” Elizabeth’s ghoulish voice said through the darkness. “We’re here forever.”

He tried to scream, but there was nothing. There was only the void. His eternal fate.

“Hugo,” a familiar voice cried out.

He recognized that voice. Alice. Her voice felt like an anchor in this whirlwind of bleakness. He wasn’t in a bleak void. He was seated at his usual table in Antonio’s Italian Ristorante with his dinner date, Alice Primrose. Everything rushed back to him. Streaks of light fought back against the darkness.

“Hugo,” Alice said.

She snapped her fingers in front of his face. He shook his head, gasping for air as the world—the real world—came back to him.

“Are you okay? You kind of zoned out there for a moment.”

He still held onto the wineglass they had toasted moments before. Sweat dripped down his back. He breathed heavily in and out. He set the drink down and rubbed his temples, trying to calm his nerves .

“I’m sorry,” Hugo said in a dizzying attempt to gather his thoughts. “I… I don’t know what happened. We were… We were toasting and then, all of a sudden, it was like I had a living nightmare. Everyone was gone. You were gone. Elizabeth was there, but it was like she was some sort of ghoul. She tried to claw at me and… and I couldn’t escape. Everything went dark. And then I heard your voice. And I snapped out of it.”

Alice set her glass down on the table far away from her. “I think we’ve had enough of this Red-Hearted Queen .”

“It was so real and terrifying.” Hugo gazed numbly at a spot on the table.

Alice grabbed Hugo’s hands across the table. She locked onto his eyes. “It’s okay. Breathe with me,” Alice assured him.

She breathed in deeply, and he matched her. She held it for a moment before letting out a drawn-out breath. He followed. They repeated it a few more times.

“Do you feel better?”

He nodded.

“How’s the wine tasting tonight?” the waitress asked as she returned to the table. “Are we ready to order?”

Alice broke her gaze with Hugo. “There’s a funny taste to this wine.” Alice pointed to the bottle. “I think we’re done with it.”

“Oh! I can get you another bottle,” the waitress replied.

“No!” Hugo piped up. “Water. Water would be fine.”

“I’ll be right back.” The waitress grabbed the bottle and walked away from the table.

“We can leave if you want,” Alice said.

Hugo shook his head. “No. I promised you the best Italian food in Newbury Grove. We’re going to have the best Italian food in Newbury Grove. I’m not going to let one nightmare ruin the whole evening.”

“Don’t you mean the world-famous Italian food of Newbury Grove?” Alice asked.

They let out a chuckle. They found each other’s eyes once more. Hugo became lost in her emerald greens. Alice gazed into his icy blues. They smiled before picking up their menus.

“So,” Alice said. “What do you recommend?”

“The meatballs are excellent,” Hugo said with a wink. “They’re world famous.”

“Back at your usual table?” a shrill voice interrupted.

Alice cringed and buried herself behind the menu. Hugo closed his eyes, dropped the menu, and soothed an imaginary headache. They both turned to see Johanna wrapping a burnt orange scarf around her neck.

“Good evening, Johanna,” Hugo replied. “How was your meal?”

“Adequate,” she answered. Johanna neatly tucked the burnt orange scarf into the black overcoat that accentuated her tall, lanky frame. She removed a pair of black leather gloves from her pockets. She slipped them on and gave two taps to the cloak clasp pinned to her coat lapel.

“You should have tried the meatballs,” Alice retorted.

“I did,” Johanna responded. “As I said, adequate.”

Johanna leered at Alice. Her eyes grew narrower with each passing moment. Alice matched her gaze. Their eyes locked into an unrelenting, unseen combat of who would blink first. The tension was too much for Hugo.

“That’s a shame,” Hugo interjected. “They’re world famous. Maybe it was a bad batch.”

“Maybe I’m loyal to my own meatballs,” Johanna replied as she gave a few taps to her cloak clasp.

“Maybe you can give Hugo some of yours to try. Like a taste test,” Alice interjected. “A competition for world’s best meatball. It’s going to be hard to dethrone a meatball that’s famous in Italy.”

“Maybe.” Johanna gave Alice a scornful look. “Enjoy your evening.” She turned and headed to the exit.

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” Alice held up her left hand and readied to snap her fingers.

“Don’t!” Hugo said in a hushed tone.

“She’s not worth it,” Alice replied as she picked up her menu. “So, about those meatballs.”

“Hmm,” Hugo replied. “You gave me an idea.”

“Good or bad?”

Hugo grinned at Alice.