Page 41 of Christian Clause

“I think the kitchen is squeaky clean now, Deb,” I tell my sister as I wipe my hands on the drying cloth.

Debra smiles at me from the counter she’s cleaning in circular motions. “That was therapeutic.”

“It sure was,” I hastily concur.

After talking about Chris, Debra and I reminisced about the good old days. We talked about our late parents and our childhood. As we talked, we moved around the kitchen, cleaning it like we used to do with our mom. It’s a few days to Christmas, and it’s custom to turn the place inside out to prepare for all the cooking that will be done on Christmas day.

I go to my sister and give her a big hug. “Thanks, Deb. I sure needed that.”

She smiles and kisses my cheek.

I put the kettle on the gas to have a cup of hot cocoa before I go to bed. Ray comes into the kitchen.

“Someone is here to see you, Hope,” he says with a smile.

A frown marks my forehead. Who is visiting at this time of the night?

Ray sees the question in my eyes and says, “It’s Clause.”

My eyes widen and my lips part. “What?”

Ray nods. “He’s in the living room.”

I just stand there in shock for some minutes, wondering why Christian is here.

“Please bring him to the kitchen,” Debra inserts before I can get my vocal cords working. “My kitchen is squeaky clean and cozy. They’ll have a wonderful time discussing things while you and I snuggle in bed.” She winks at Ray, who bursts into laughter.

They both turn to look at me.

“Hope?”

I sigh. Why not? I needed privacy for what I had to say to Christian.

“Okay.”

They smile and hold hands as they exit the kitchen. I wish for what they have and more with Christian.

My heart is in my throat as I take the kettle from the gas and quickly make two cups of hot cocoa. I take a packet of marshmallows from the cupboard. I turn around and Christian is at the kitchen entrance, looking as handsome as ever in a gray turtleneck sweater, a black jacket, and black jeans.

The marshmallows fall from my hands. “Christian.”

A slow smile covers his face. He nods at the kitchen. “This is lovely.”

I look around the kitchen decorated with white and red bows, with small flower vases at the windows. Yes, it is indeed a cozy scene for two lovers to rub minds.

“Thanks,” I reply, for want of anything better to say.

I pick up the marshmallows and point at the cups of cocoa on the counter.

“Do you want some?”

He nods and strides forward to sit on a stool by the counter.

I put some marshmallows in his cup and mine. We sit there sipping our hot drink in companionable silence for some minutes. It stretches my nerves taut.

At last, Christian says, “We have to talk, Hope.”

My heart slams painfully in my chest. My hands tremble as I put my cup back on the counter. I force my eyes to meet his. I’m lost for words as an expression I can’t describe reflects in his eyes.

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