An Affair To Remember

Prompt by:Caro’s Writing Perspectives: One Hundred-Word Wonders

Prompt: AN AFFAIR TO REMEMBER

“Ellen, here is your food,” said one one of the dining room attendants at the home where Ellen lived. “It’s your favourite, scallion, ginger beef and broccoli,” she said, placing the food in front of Ellen. Ellen stared at the food and then around the room. She timidly picked up the spoon. 

“No dear. Use your fork,” said one of her table mates kindly. Ellen looked startled, dropping the spoon. Quickly an attendant rushed over with another spoon. “Is everything ok here?”

“She was using her spoon instead of her fork.”

Ellen picked up her fork and stabbed a piece of broccoli, oblivious to the conversation happening around her. Her thoughts were ravaged by the disease that was consuming her memories of the present. As she took her second bite she looked up and said, “Robert, this is the best meal you have ever cooked for me.”

Her table mates were startled. Ellen had never so much as uttered a sound before. No one knew she had a voice.

“I am so glad that you had an amazing day at work today Robert.”

“Who is Robert?” inquired another table mate looking at one of the attendants.

“No idea. Her husband's name was Geoff.”

“And this necklace,” said Ellen, fingering an imaginary necklace at her throat, “is too much. I won’t ever be able to wear it at home. Only when I am with you.”

The attendant started making detailed notes about what was happening. 

“No dear. We have had this discussion before,” continued Ellen. “I can’t leave my children, nor can I take them from their father.”

There were gasps around the table.

“This is better than a soap opera,” said a table mate.

“Sh,” said another hoping that Ellen would continue.

“I can see we have unfinished business Robert. Please be patient. We will have a future together,” Ellen said as she finished the last of her meal. Bread pudding magically appeared in front of her. “MMMM. Robert you shouldn’t have,” she murmured in what could only be determined as a seductive tone. 

Ellen ate her bread pudding and then sat with her hands folded as she did after every meal. 

After a few minutes the attendant spoke. “Anything else Ellen?”

Ellen sat there as she always did after her meals.

“I wonder what sparked her memory?” said an attendant as she helped Ellen to her feet. 

Ellen smiled and gave a little wave when she spotted Robert across the room where he sat quietly eating pea soup as the attendant spooned it into his mouth. The attendants whisked her away as her memory faded to nothingness once more.

 

At Rose’s Cafe

January 2026

Prompt by: Roseneath Writer’s Circle

Prompt: Write a story in the style of the Hallmark franchise

Photo by: Natali N (@nattie_nn) | Unsplash Photo Community

Rose Moon heard the tinkle of the doorbell in her cafe. “I’ll be right with you,” she said without looking up from the new menu she was trying to put together on her laptop.

“Take your time Moonie,” a voice she couldn’t place said.

She looked up quickly. “No one calls me Moonie anymore,” she tossed out a bit grumpily. “Oh shit,” she said as she fought for a moment of composure. “What are you doing here?” she said with a touch of negativity.

“Sill the same old Moonie,” came the reply back. “Is that anyway to greet an old friend?”

Rose put on her cafe shop owner's face. “You are correct,” she quickly said. “Welcome to Rose’s Cafe. How can I help you? Would you like a table?”

“Thanks, but I already have a table. What would I do with another?” he quipped using his best Groucho imitation. He saw the look on her face. “My Groucho imitation was a step too far?”

“Ross, why are you in my cafe?”

“I came back home for the holidays. My mom mentioned you owned the cafe. I was hungry so I thought I would stop in and say hello while you fed me.”

“Typical,” replied Rose. “Feeding you was always something you wanted.”

He smiled as he held back another Groucho statement. “It seemed too good to be true.”

“What?” asked Rose.

“I had heard that you had changed. That you had seen forgiveness as a part of your mantra these days. I guess I heard wrong.” he started to turn.

“Wait!” Rose called out. “You are a customer in my Cafe. Please take a seat and I will be right with you.” She hurried through the door into the kitchen. The door flapped shut behind her as she walked to the back of the kitchen, stopping to look out the back door.

“Who is that guy?" asked Ingrid, the short order cook. “I’ve never seen you like this before. You are looking like a train wreck. What does he have on you? Do I need to go and toss him out on his ear?” Ingrid asked as she picked up her meat cleaver.

Rose laughed. “Save the meat cleaver for someone important. He is a nothing guy I went to high school with.”

“That’s Ross Johnston?” a shocked Ingrid asked picking up her meat clever again. “He is the low life who stood you up at the prom?”

“One and the same,” replied Rose as she eased the meat cleaver from Ingrids’s hand and set it in the washing water. Ingrid gave Rose a long look.

“And someone still has feelings.”

“It’s fifteen years later. And I do not.”

“Un huh. Then why are you in here rather than out there asking him to leave?”

Rose had wondered the same thing.

“I asked him to have a seat. I need to bring a water glass and a menu.”

“We are going to feed him?” hissed Ingrid. 

“Yes. And it will be the best food we can prepare because it is our business.”

Ingird mumbled quietly.

“What was that?” asked Rose.

“It will be the best meal he has ever eaten.”

Rose turned and walked back through the door.

“If he orders take out I may have to fix it special for him,” Ingrid said with a crooked smile to the back of the door.

“Here is your water,” said Rose as she placed the glass on the table along with the silverware wrapped in a napkin. She noticed the open menu. “What would you like to order?”

Ross looked around the cafe. “Would you be able to sit down? I would like to talk with you.”

“If you place your order Ingrid can start working on it,” Rose said as she glanced toward the doorway where Ingrid stood holding a meat cleaver.

Ross followed her line of sight. “Now that is interesting,” Ross said. “A meat cleaver? I hope that’s not for me.”

Rose turned back to Ross. “She is a little overprotective. She cares for our business and my happiness, sometimes a little too much.” 

“She’s a partner?”

Rose looked quizzical. “Who would blame me after the fiasco you left me in?” She felt good about this one. “But no. She is my cook. A damn good one too.” Rose waved Ingrid back into the kitchen. “How is your mom? I see her around town. She never speaks when she sees me.”

Ross blanched a bit at this statement. “Speaking of being overprotective, that would be my mom.” he paused. “A bit annoying at times, really.”

“That’s quite a change,” reflected Rose.

 “What do you mean?”

“You were always so protective of her, getting upset at any little hint that something might be amiss.”

Ross looked a little bit sheepish. “Well we all mature don’t we?”

“You asked me to sit. Is there something you would like to talk about?

Ross put both hands on the table and clasped them. “First, I wanted to see for myself how you were doing. From what I can see you are not only doing well but prospering greatly.”

Rose felt awkward. “I’m not sure that I would call it prospering but we do ok.”

“Other than working, what happens in your free time?”

“Why did you not go to the prom with me like you promised?” Rose inquired angrily. She stopped and looked around. “It seems that old feelings never die,” she thought as she collected herself. “Why did you disappear.? No one would tell me anything.”

“Rose,” began Ross. “I…” he paused, not knowing where to start. 

“If you don’t want to tell me…”

“No Rose. I want to tell you. That night, the night of the prom, my dad got a phone call. I…. I had done some things I am not proud of now and was about to be arrested. My family shipped me off to boarding school, stopped the legal proceedings and warned me not to tell anyone.They encouraged me to stay far away from here.”

“Seriously?” intoned Rose. “You expect me to believe that?”

“Rose, it’s the truth. I kept my nose clean. I got my education. I completed university. I founded a tech company that has grown immensely. I got everything I ever wanted, except for one thing.”

“And what is that?”

“Well, you.”

Rose looked stunned.

“Rose, I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for any of these things to happen. But they did and I paid some prices I never expected. But all that time I never stopped thinking about you.”

“Interesting story Ross.  But it is just that. A Story.”

“Company, Goodacres. School, Briar Private School in Denver, University, Berkeley. You can look them up.”

“It’s been 15 years, Ross. Why now?”

“I thought about you, often. I followed my family’s warnings and stayed away to avoid arrest. I put my life together. I was focused on details. In short my family kept me at bay because I was an embarrassment. No that my dad had passed on and my mom wanted to see me on her terms I came back. So here I am.”

“And what? I am supposed to just forget the past and let you into my life?”

“I don’t expect that. All I would like is to take you out to dinner, have some discussions and see what happens.”

Rose stood up abruptly. “I’ll be right back,” she said as hustled to the kitchen door pushing her way through. 

“Well?” asked Ingrid. 

“Give me a minute.” Rose worked her mind with all the possible outcomes she could see. It was a short internal debate.

“You shouldn’t do it,” said Ingrid intuitively. “How can you trust him?”

Rose walked over to the counter where the tablet sat waiting for an order to be placed on it. She typed furiously for a few minutes, eying the results carefully.

Rose stood up and smiled. 

“Rose, I know that look. Don’t do it.”

Rose pushed her way through the door, walked to the table and sat down.

“Your reviews are quite good.”

“I am glad to hear that.” 

“Your community involvement is exemplary.”

“That’s good to know.”

“Naming your charity arm “Rose’s Place” was an intriguing touch.”

“I thought so. Dinner?”

“It is a place to start.”

Ross smiled. “I will have the Prime Rib Sandwich with the brussel sprouts.”

“Coming right up,” she smiled. “But we are going somewhere nice for dinner?”

“Rose’s Cafe isn’t good enough?” Ross deadpanned.

“I want something more personal. We have much to discuss.”

Ross smiled as Rose walked through the doors. “It’s a start,” he thought. “It’s a start.”

 

I Couldn’t Agree More

Photo by: Jonathan Borba - Photography

Mark looked over at Melinda. He could see the tears flowing down her cheeks as she read the mail. Immediately he rose and walked over to her. “Another one?” he asked softly.

Melinda nodded as she set the letter down on the counter, closed her eyes and broke down into sobbing hard. Mark took her in his arms and softly whispered. “Everything is alright.”

Abruptly Melinda pulled away and said bluntly, “Everything is not alright,” as she stalked away. “Twenty four letters in 24 days is too much. What was she thinking?” as she closed the door to the bedroom. 

Mark sighed. It was Christmas. It was supposed to be one of the happiest times of the year. He sat on the stool at the counter and had to wonder, not for the first time, if happiness was ever going to be a part of their lives again.  

“Olivia,” he said quietly. “You are just prolonging the torture." 

He picked up the letter.

Dear Mom and Dad,

This is the last letter I promise. 

When I was fourteen we did the Disney Cruise.

Mark looked over the top of the letter towards Olivia’s picture that was on the fireplace mantel. He wiped a tear as he recalled the trip.

That was the best thing I ever did in my life. All the shows were magnificent. I particularly liked the live show that showed all the characters in a great Christmas story. There was tons of food, lots of laughter. There were so many things for us to do. We were all together happy and enjoying ourselves in what would be the last normal vacation we had before everything changed.

Mark smiled at the memories.

Since that time you have done your absolute best to make sure that we all enjoyed our times together. For the last 24 years you have been a rock, giving me the love and support I needed to help me cope. I couldn’t have done it without you guys. You made everyday special, even those days when there was nothing that could cheer me up you still tried hard. 

Mark felt the tears roll down his cheek.

“You have been model parents. I hope that Emily and Sam understand the scope of how important you are in their lives.”

“You should be receiving this letter on Christmas Eve if all goes well. I will miss this time of year. The love and warmth always built new hope. The amount of caring almost exceeded what you have shown for me as it was about all of us. I want you to know that is important. “

There was a knock at the door. Mark opened the door to find a small package on the doorstep addressed to him and Melinda. He picked it up and brought it inside.

“Melinda,” he called. “There is a package for us.” Melinda raced out of the bedroom door.

“A Package? What is in it?”

Mark handed the package to her. “You can open it.”

Melinda carefully opened the package. She gasped as she pulled the book from the wrapping. “It’s a book!” she said through her tears. She handed Mark the book as she sat down. 

Mark stood stunned looking at the cover. “Stories From My Life, by Olivia Wilson,” shone from the cover. “Did you know she was doing this?” he asked.

“No idea,” Melinda said through the cracks in her voice.

Mark flipped open the cover. “For mom and dad, the best parents ever," said the inscription in Olivia’s handwriting. “She has been writing her whole life. When did she find time to put this together?”

“Don’t know,” responded Melinda. “She was too ill at the end. A book. She published a book.”

“Merry Christmas mom and dad. I wish I was there to share it with you. Unfortunately this cancer has me beaten. I just want you to know that you have been loved as much as you have loved me.”

Love Olivia 

“Stories From My Life.” Melinda flipped to the first story. “Here’s one from when she was eight.” She flipped further. “And another from earlier this year.”

“And 24 letters for Christmas.”

Emily and Sam burst through the door. “Did you get one?” they inquired as they placed their books on the counter. As Melinda held up their copy Emily stated through her growing tears. “Best damn Christmas present ever.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” replied Mark as he gathered them in a group hug. “I couldn’t agree more.

Two Second To Last Christmas Stories: The Big Day Is Tomorrow

 

Christmas In Reverse

Prompt: Write a story in reverse chronological order

Prompt by: Roberta Sant'Anna (@roberta_sant_anna) | Unsplash Photo Community

By midnight they could barely keep their eyes open. Their heads barely hit the pillow before the snoring started..

“They took that well,” John stated as he put on his pajamas.

“I thought they would never go to bed,” said Elysse. “It used to be that Christmas day tired them out. They are going to be cranky when we wake them up at 6:30.”

Elysse and John sat and watched the news at eleven. They kept hoping their teenage twins would crawl off to their rooms. Normally the kids would be tired but unfortunately Christmas day just seemed to invigorate them.

The usual commentary during Christmas Board games slowly gave way to an evening of creating the absolutely worst puns ever. 

“I never get tired of this tradition,” Jane allowed. 

“It’s as if you store them up all year,” replied her father Phil.

“I think she does,” chimed in John. “From time to time I hear her through the walls trying out some new ones.”

“Are you holding a glass against the wall?” smirked Jane.

“Well dear, that was the best Christmas meal ever.” 

“Dad, you say that every year!”

“Dinner is served.”

The mid afternoon Christmas slump couldn’t come soon enough as everyone was assigned a corner to read their new Christmas books. 

“It’s earlier than I expected,” said an exhausted Phil. 

“Mom, we have finished opening the presents. Can we dip into the Christmas candy now?”

As the twins rounded the corner Elysse could see a momentary disappointment in the twins eyes before they looked at each other and covered it up.

“Thank you for the sun hats and books,” they said in unison as they put their gift on their heads.

“I suppose you are wondering why there are so few presents under the tree.”

They looked at each other. 

“Now that you asked,” said Jane

“This is it?” replied John.

“We are going on a trip to Disney tomorrow!”

“You know the rules about Christmas morning,” said Elysse as her twins came down the stairs.

“Mom!” said Jane as she wiped sleep from her eyes. “Can’t we just look at the presents?”

“Why do you make us suffer?” said an overly dramatic John.

“Traditions are traditions,” Elysse replied as she put some Christmas morning saver on their places at the table. “Let’s eat.” 

Elysse turned and looked at her husband. “Should we wake them up?”

Phil looked at the clock. “9 am is kinda late for them. Remember the year they were up at 4:30? We barely got to bed before they were through the door.”

By Candlelight

A Hundred Word Story

Prompt by: Along the Hudson: O Christmas Tree

Prompt: Write about a Christmas tree. 100 words

Photo by: Elena Shirnina (@evshirnina) | Unsplash Photo Community

Candice had decided to go all organic this year. The tree was in a pot so it could continue growing until spring when it would be planted outside. She decorated it with candles and other decorations that were all home made, much like her ancestors had done. She had spent days developing all of her ideas and stood proudly in front of the tree on Christmas Eve.

“That looks wonderful honey,” replied her amazed husband. “Your efforts are truly something to behold! ” he said as he sniffed. “What’s that smell?”

Tears started as Jim rushed to find the fire extinguisher.

 

Sea Shanties By The Seashore For Christmas

Photo by: Katja Anokhina (@katjaano) | Unsplash Photo Community

“Pour me another one, barkeep,” said Steve as he sat at the end of the bar in the small seaside town. He had been enjoying the Christmas carols sung as seaside shanties by the local artist.

“This has been quite the Christmas Eve,” he said loudly to any and all who were within earshot.

“Indeed,” rumbled the man on the barstool next to him wearing a Captain’s hat. 

“Almost time for a visit from St. Nick,” Steve rambled on with a definite sway to his voice. 

“Indeed, " replied the Captain. 

“Maybe a little Twas The Night Before Christmas,” added Steve, “although,” he said as he tried to check his watch, “the kids may be in bed.”

“Twas The Night Before Christmas is quite the steady story, what with the guy asleep in his cap and there was such a clatter.”

“A steady story?” mumbled Steve. 

“Aye. I heard that he stole the idea from the Captain of the HMS Penobscot. Quite the tale too.” The Captain took a swig of his rum and egg nog.

“The Night Before Christmas is an old sea tale?”

“Aye. Mighty fine,” as he set his glass on the bar.

“Let’s hear it then.”

The salty old sea captain eyed Steve. 

'Twas the night before Christmas, the ship sailed the seas

The whales were frolicing, the passengers at ease

Sleeping in hammocks swinging from the beams

Dreaming of land, free of seasickness and disease

Presents were scarce, the trip was so long

The best they could hope for was captured in song

The parents were worried, wanting better for their kids

Without losing their lives by flipping their lids

When the night watchman called out, “What is this that I see?”

The Captain rushed to the sound of distress in his need.

“Has the fresh air forsaken that which you see?” 

“Nae Captain,” was said as each swell did heave.

“Sighting at port, north by northwest

By the light of the moon I do not say this in jest.

A sailor is spotted this far out to sea 

Bright red in clothing with a back pack indeed”

Closing in quickly he signalled his intent

To board the vessel with a signs he did invent

The next thing they knew he was standing right there

Smiling and joking and sharing rum with great care

“Now Captain thank you for letting me come aboard

This fine ship you rule by the strength of your sword

I come in peace with presents for sure

Giving gifts to all without any final allure”

“Gifts," replied the captain, “all pass through me.

I will dole out to all that I see.”

The man in the red suit looked him in the eye

“It’s Christmas,” he shouted, “I won’t be denied.

You may be the defender of this ship

By my authority I challenge you on this trip.”

Swords in hand, tempers did flare 

Santa just stood there as if he was aware

The captain’s dance had tired him out

So he spoke with with the confidence of doubt

“Have your way my well fed man

Are milk and cookies a part of the plan?”

Quick as a flash Santa placed a gift by each child

“I will know if they are stolen,” he finally allowed.

The captain and his men felt the weight of their sins

Fell to their knees with tardy chagrin

Santa stood there fresh in the night

“Happy Christmas to all, you have done something right”

The bartender placed a fresh rum and egg nog in front of the salty old sea captain. 

Steve had watched him with fascination during the story. “That’s it? That’s the story? Santa saves Christmas aboard an old wooden schooner? Some of the lines don’t make much sense.”

The captain looked past Steve, out the window and pointed. Steve turned.  On the water, by the light of the moon, was a man in a red suit surfing across the bay. 

“Any other questions?” inquired a smirking Captain.

Steve shook his head as he downed the rest of his beverage and headed home.