Page 39 of Jingle Bell Jilt
When I step into the kitchen, Shay is standing at the stove stirring something in a pot. I move over behind her and lean over her shoulder, breathing in the smell of apples and spices. “What is that?” I ask.
“Cider sauce,” she looks back at me. “It’s for the English popovers.”
“Popovers? What are those?” I bend over and look in the little window on the oven at the muffin tin with something raising to crazy sizes.
“Have you heard of Yorkshire pudding or German pancakes?” she pulls the pot off the stove and sets it aside, dropping in a chunk of butter.
“Nope.”
“You have lived a sheltered life.” She grins and rests her hip on the edge of the counter. “It’s hard to explain what they are. I think you’re just going to have to trust me and try them for yourself.”
I nod, but I can’t help but look at her skeptically. What’s in these popovers that make them hard to explain?
“You’re not allergic to anything are you?” Her brow creases. “I probably should have asked you about that when we were at the store yesterday.”
I shake my head. “No allergies, so you’re safe.”
She relaxes. “These have about ten minutes to cook.”
My phone dings with a text message. I pull it out and see my brother’s name on my screen.
Keaton
Merry Christmas, big bro. You ready to video chat?
I’m really not. I wasn’t planning on having a guest present when I video-chatted with my dad and brothers. But it’s Christmas, and I can’t not see them after I bailed on the ‘family celebrations.’ I type out a quick reply.
Sure. Give me five minutes.
“It’s my family. They want to video chat.” I glance around. “I can do it in my room.”
I move over to the couch and pull my laptop off the end table.
“You can do it here. I’m going to grab a quick shower.”
Relief floods over me. Not that I have anything private to say to my family. But they can be a little inappropriate sometimes.
Flipping open my computer, I turn it on and wait. Not three minutes later, the ringing starts, and I click on the green Answer button.
My two brothers each appear on their own screens and my dad appears seconds after. Is it weird they aren’t even in the same room together on Christmas? “Hey, Evan. Merry Christmas!” They all shout slightly out of sync.
“Hey, guys. Merry Christmas to you.” My sister, Alexis, is noticeably absent. She was spending Christmas with her boyfriend’s family this year.
“How’s Florida, son?” My dad asks.
“Good. It’s supposed to be in the mid-70s today.”
“You suck, man. It’s like 14 degrees here this week.” Lowell complains.
“But do you have snow? Christmas feels weird without snow.” I complain back.
I sit back on the couch and Keaton lets out a whistle. “Dude, what are you wearing?”
I glance down at my sweater and suck in a breath. So much for no one seeing me in this thing. “It’s just a sweater.”
Keaton starts to laugh. “Stand up. I want to see the whole thing.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think that’s really necessary.”
