A Town Called Snowflake

"What album?” Nate and Molly blurted at the same time.

Scout chuckled and cuffed Nate on the shoulder, “Your album, guys! What’d you think I recorded all those songs for! I’ve got one of the guys from my Production and Promotion class burning CDs all night, and another printing the cases. They go on sale exclusively at Café Kringle tomorrow night, and on Amazon.com starting Christmas Day!”
“I don’t understand,” said Nate, shaking his head.

“You don’t have to, brother,” Scout said, sliding something out of his tip apron. “You just have to watch… and learn.”

Nate looked down at what Scout had just handed him; it was a CD, but not just any CD – their CD!

“Oh. My. God!” Molly screamed, leaning intimately against Nate’s shoulder to get a better view. The CD was a vibrant red, with a single candle glowing atop a black piano. Seated at the piano, was Nate; smiling, candidly, as if unaware he was being photographed. Next to him, in a sleek black dress, stood Molly; radiant, beautiful, face awash in ecstasy as she crooned a Christmas carol.

In white lettering made to look like snow, read the words “Winter Songs by Nate Night and Molly Swift.” Beneath them, in blue, it said, “Recorded LIVE at Café Kringle in Snowflake, South Carolina!”

“This looks really professional, Scout,” Molly said.

“Hazel helped with the graphics,” Scout confessed, with Hazel sitting up straight to bask in Nate and Molly’s sudden admiration.

“Winter Songs,” Nate mused, giving Scout the eye. “Why ‘Winter Songs,’ Scout?”

Scout shrugged and said, “Well, you know, I got to thinking of January, and February, and all those months that aren’t quite Christmas, but plenty winter, and I thought if we called it ‘Winter Songs,’ we could sell them all year long instead of just around the holidays.”

Nate nodded. “Good thinking, Scout.”

“Good thinking?” bellowed Kris, snatching the album out of Nate’s hands. “Why, it’s brilliant! Downright brilliant. In fact, what I’m going to do is, I’m going to move the coat rack, order a display case, and sell these all year-round. Why, in no time, Nate and Molly will be as famous as Steve and Edie!”

“Steve and who?” Scout asked, but Kris would not be deterred.

As he rambled about his plans for adding a larger stage area, better acoustics and a few hours to the night shift, Nate felt a strange sensation. Looking down at the table top, he realized what it was; Molly, squeezing his hand tighter than anyone had ever squeezed it, ever.

He looked into her eyes, only to find tears streaming down from each one.

If only she was alone, Nate wouldn’t have felt so embarrassed about wiping his own tears with a quick swipe of his sleeve.