A Savior is Born

Surrounding them were decorations of all kinds. The silver-suited nutcrackers reminded Roger of his grandfather's quartet. He wished Delilah had had a chance to meet him, and hear them sing the Montana Hop. The Silver Foxes almost made it to the Barbershop Quartet Championship one year. Roger also wished he had a close knit group like his grandfather, close enough to form a quartet even. Not that he would, or that he was a very good singer.

Looking across the dimly lit table Roger's eyes’ pupils dilated as they fell upon Delilah, the love of his life. Just because he wasn't a good singer, doesn't mean he can't sing. He was pulling out all the stops tonight, he was going to show her what she meant to him.

"Roggie, you're staring again." She was in a long black sequin dress that danced with the candle flame between them. "Roggie?" she waved her hand in front of his face, it smelled of lilac, or whatever the prettiest flower you can imagine smells like, and vanilla. She snapped her fingers, her nails painted a beautiful maroon, and Roger came to his senses.

"Delibear, forgive me. I got lost in your everything." Roger fiddled with the velvet box in his hand. "You know, these have been the greatest three months of my life."

"You must be starving," she interjected. "You've got the thousand yard stare you get."

"The waiter is certainly taking his time," Roger agreed. She always knew how to bring him back down to Earth. The way she spun her head around looking at the decorations, revealed her flowing black hair from her smooth pale face. Her hair moved so slowly through the air, it was as if she was living on a different planet, or floating free in space. "I'd float with you anywhere."

"Umm," Delilah didn't understand. "There is the salad bar over there," she snapped as she pointed.

Roger jerked his head toward the salad bar, prying his eyes off Delilah was a trial.

"Oh yeah, that's a great idea Delibear."

He couldn't do this on an empty stomach, he needed to be clear headed. He began to stand up, and someone cleared his throat to his right.

Looking over it was an elderly woman, smiling. She nodded toward the box in Roger's hand. Roger, mouthing 'oh' slipped the box in his pocket and nodded to the lady, glancing at the man sitting across from her. They seemed happy. Roger couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life like that.

"I'll be right back Deli."

Roger walked toward the salad bar. The toy train running above the restaurant chugged and chooed above him like a guardian angel, guiding him to his salvation.

"Or saladvation," he said to himself.

There was a hushed cackle behind him. Did Delilah follow him? Did he say anything about the ring? In his panic he spun around to find the old lady, his other guardian angel.

"You're all over the place dear," she whispered as she guided him the last few steps to the salad bar. "I remember my Denny acting like this the entire week before he proposed, so you're not doing to bad."

Roger looked back to the man at the other table.

"Oh no, that's not Denny," she was following his gaze. "My Denny died twenty years ago." She tapped his chest. "So you have to make every day count, what salad should you eat? Or should I ask, what's your saladvation? No Caesar, it's amazing here; but you don't want fish on your breath and they use a lot of garlic. How about raspberry vinaigrette? I suppose not, you don't seem like the type. Italian?"

Roger stopped looking at Delilah for a moment and came to. "Yes, Italian would be fine. Thank you for everything ma'am. What are you and your husband's names?"

"That's not my husband dear," she handed him baby spinach with Italian dressing. "My Denny died twenty years ago, remember? That's my brother Fred. My name is Anne, and you're Roggie, right?"

"Yes," Roger said distracted by the Caesar he wish he'd asked for. "Well actually 'Roggie’ is just what Delibear calls me. Sorry. 'Delilah.' And I'm 'Roger.'"

Anne pinched his cheek. "You're smitten dear, go get her." There was a tear forming in her eye. Or was it the reflection of the gold-lit tree behind him.

"Thank you Anne, I'm going to try."

This was the place, he could feel it now. The giant shiny ornaments on every window sill. Outside the air was so crisp it could snow any second. It was a perfect Christmas Eve.

Roger sat back across from the love of his life. She could have been a decoration herself. If she was, she would have been the centerpiece instead of that gold-lit tree.

Was gold the right choice? Roger thought back on all of their dates, and Delilah has always worn black. And she said she can never wear silver. The jeweler talked him into eighteen karat, expensive, but hardy. The closest thing to fully gold that you could want. The little silver that's in there keeps it from scratching.

"Roggie? You haven't touched your salad."

"I have to ask you something," Roger blurted.

"Right now? Our waiter hasn't even come by."

"I'm not going to be able to think straight until I get the words out," Roger felt the small box in his pocket and the gaze on Anne at the table next to them. He thought back to his grandmother the day of his grandfather's funeral, how she said everyday was precious. And then of Anne and Denny.

"I can't waste another minute without you knowing how I feel about you, or knowing you feel the same." Roger came around the table and got on his knee next to Delilah. He was thought of his grandfather, and tried to channel his voice.

"Only you can make all this world seem right. Only you can make the darkness bright." The restaurant fell silent as he sang. "Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the box and opened it to Delilah. "And fill my heart with love for only you."

Delilah's eyes were sparkling, and he knew it wasn't the lights, or the candles, or the cameras all around them, filming. She was smitten too. It was a definite yes. He took the ring out before she could say anything and slipped it on her hand. It just felt right.

"Delibear, I've known since the moment I laid eyes on you that you and I were meant to be."

"Is this pure gold?" Delilah interjected, raising her hand to look at the ring. Even the diamond's sparkle paled in comparison to her eyes. She was going to say yes.

"It's the heighest karat the jeweler reco..."

Had a candle gone out?

There was the smell of smoke, of burning, suddenly. A problem in the kitchen, surely. But then Roger saw it, it was Delilah's hand.

"The jeweler warned me that some people can reacted to lower karats. I wasn't sure if you have allergies so we went with eighteen karat."

"Eighteen?!" Her voice was different.

"Yes, but we can change it, I can get you something better." There was so much smoke coming off her hand now. "Delibear, take it off, are you okay?"

Right then a voice came from behind Roger.

"Ma'am, here take this water, please put yourself out," it was their waiter finally.

Roger looked into Delilah's sparkling eyes, and watched her grimace turn into an open mouth. She lunged over Roger and onto the waiter, hissing.

"What? Delibear?" Roger turned to see Delilah on top of the waiter, face buried in his neck.

She'd done this in the Silver Spoon, on one of their first dates. He thought it was to make him jealous, but he just proposed. What's the point of kissing their waiter now?

A lady screamed pointing at Delilah. There was a pool of blood forming under. Was she hurt? Was it the damned cheap ring?

"Delibear!" She turned to Roger, her face covered in blood, and hissed. "What's going on with your teeth?"

Delilah turned and jumped on the screaming lady. Everyone was out of their seats, screaming. Some were running out of the room.

Someone grabbed Roger's shoulder and he screamed too. He turned to see Anne.

"Dear," she muttered.

"What is going on!?" cried Roger.

"I need you to go grab the Caesar dressing."

"What?! Can't you see my fiance is hurt? What are you talking about?" Anne shook her head to that.

"I'm sorry dear, but that's not true and you need to get ahold of yourself." She pointed to the salad bar. "Go, and don't let her see you."

Roger's vision blurred as he looked toward the salad bar. He was going to faint. Everyone was trying to get out, there were people on the floor. He saw Delilah on the other side of the restaurant, she'd pinned a young man to a mirrored wall. She was holding him by the throat, and as she raised him in the air Roger realized she wasn't reflecting in the mirror.

Roger wiped the tears from his face, he couldn't let anyone else get hurt. He slid across a table through the crowd of panicked restaurant goers. Then he frog hopped over another. He checked back over to Delilah and she was staring at him.

Roger was paralyzed. Dread washed over him and bile filled his throat. He was going to die.

Delilah smiled at him, her hand still smoking, her teeth fangy.

“Delibear, I can get you a better ring.” She dove at him from three tables away.

Roger saw his grandfather, the whole quartet, the Silver Foxes. He was sitting in the front row and they were singing Only You. Maybe if he had close friends like that, they would have pointed out that he had never met Delilah in the daylight. They would have pointed out that he’d never seen her eat.

Delilah was inches from his face now. Roger accepted his fate.

Then a stream of white flew between them, and covered Delilah. She fell out of the air onto the table in front of him, writhing and steaming.

It was Anne, she’d reached the Caesar.

“A savior is born,” Roger said, mouth agape.

“Or a saladvior,” quipped Anne. They both let out a slight smile.

Delilah, screaming, flung herself on to Anne and pushed her to the ground. Caesar and blood dripping off her from head to toe she let out a hiss that shook the ornaments off the trees. The little toy train fell off its tracks and crashed into the floor.

Roger looked at the gold-lit tree beside him, the centerpiece, and lifted it from its stand. He wasn’t going to let his saladvior die.

He charged the Christmas tree into Delilah with a crunch and kept pushing until she was pinned into the salad bar. She flailed her burnt arms briefly and then slumped into the arugula.

Roger realized what he’d just done and sat on the floor. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and looked up to Anne. She gave him a smile and he could hear ‘Dear’ in his head.

“I wasn’t expecting that.”