Page 66 of Icebreaker
"Me, too. Christmas is so much more…uh…Christmasy with them."
While the kitchen buzzed with activity, and the scents of dill and mustard drifted our way, Maja caught us up on her life. "My best friend is trying to set me up with a guy, but she doesn't have the best taste in men." She scrunched up her nose and downed a shot of the Aquavit.
"Now, hold up," Axel insisted. "We're not getting you drunk before dinner even starts."
After a few more minutes of shared stories, Quinn suggested that we check out the progress in the kitchen. We watched from a safe distance and marveled at how Moose turned out to be an impressive assistant. With Dad's patient guidance, he executed various tasks skillfully.
Dad explained his kitchen philosophy. "The key to Swedish Christmas food is the balance of flavors. Each dish has a story to tell, a piece of our heritage. From the gravlax to saffron buns, these recipes have come down through generations of my family."
I watched Quinn listening closely. He'd forgotten about the disappointment of not having Maggie present. Dad and Moose riveted his attention.
When the food was ready, Dad hadn't produced a full julbord, but he put together a phenomenal array of impressive food in just a few short hours. We had platters of beetroot salad, Swedish meatballs, and the controversial lutefisk among multiple other dishes. The fish glistened under the flickering light from the candles in the center of the table.
Before we could eat, Moose had to tell us about his attempt to make knäckebröd with Sven's guidance. "The boy gave it a good effort," insisted Sven.
"I baked a hockey puck," Moose told us. He finally let us dig into the food, and we all laughed while passing the luscious dishes around the table in a clockwise circle.
While dinner continued, Dad shared stories from our childhood, each laced with humor and heart-tugging nostalgia. He even told us all about the first Christmas without my mother. He tried to compensate for her loss by dressing up as Tomte, a rough equivalent of Santa in Sweden. Unfortunately, the costume was too small for him, leaving him looking even more comical than expected.
While we all laughed and smiled, I looked around the table at the faces in the candlelight. We were all so different but bound together by mutual affection and shared experiences. Quinn squeezed my hand under the table.
When dinner ended, Moose surprised us all. With a gleam in his eyes, he announced a new Moosetastic Christmas tradition. "We're going to have a gingerbread house decorating competition! Let me run down to the car, and I will return in a flash."
While he was gone, I groaned and looked at Quinn. "This holiday will be the end of me. First, there was the bouncy house torture chamber, and now this."
He touched my cheek. "Aww, my tough, grumbly man. You can handle this one for the sake of Moose. Don't you think?"
Sven jumped in. "I think it sounds like fun. If we set up teams, I'll work with Maja."
"And we'll leave you all eating our dust," she proclaimed, sounding much more excited than I expected. "Who doesn't love a beautiful gingerbread house?"
Moose returned with three big boxes full of gingerbread panels, royal icing, and a rainbow of candies. Sven helped him clear off the table, and we gathered around the perimeter.
With a clap of his hands, Moose announced, "Now, here are the basic guidelines. You are going to work in teams, two against two…"
Quinn raised his hand. "And what will you do?"
"I'm the judge, of course."
We all nodded. It made some kind of wacky sense in Moose World. I announced the team structure. "It's Quinn and me vs. Dad and Maja."
Moose tsked. "Pardon my lack of confidence, but they're gonna dust you, mates."
"Hey, hey," I interrupted, "I think the judge is a little biased here."
"No bias at all. I'm merely sharing the facts." He held up both hands to quiet us down. "Prepare to unleash your inner architects and construct the most epic gingerbread home ever. And yes, there will be prizes."
I watched Quinn survey the range of candies and icing tubes. As his eyes widened, I worried he might be more interested in eating the decorations than using them to build a house.
Laughing, I picked up one of the gingerbread walls. "I'll have you all know that my architectural skills are second only to my hockey talents. Prepare yourselves to be amazed."
"Go!" shouted Moose.
Everyone dove into the piles of candy canes, gumdrops, and peppermints at once. Quinn looked at me. "I think those all come last. We don't have any walls yet."
I nodded and put the candy down. We quickly determined that I would hold the gingerbread walls while Quinn sealed them with icing.
Moose leaned over Maja's shoulder. "Hey, don't let your brother fool you with all that talk about skill putting things together. I've watched him put together IKEA furniture. I'll tell you, not a pretty sight."
