Page 85 of Christmas in Mistletoe
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“Something’s burning! What’s burning?”Mum had her fingers in her hair. “Not the turkey again. Paul!”
Victoria rolled her eyes at Ruby as their dad ran to the oven and grabbed the handle.
“Argh!” he cried when he forgot the handle would be hot. He grabbed a tea towel from the counter, and opened the oven door at the second time of asking. Grey smoke billowed from the oven. Her dad’s glasses steamed up so he couldn’t see a thing.
Ruby tried not to laugh. Eric wasn’t as successful. It was the same every year. Dad burned the turkey. Mum shouted at him. Everyone ate the turkey and made reassuring noises that it wasn’t dry. It always was, but that was where her mum’s gravy saved the day.
“What do you normally do at Christmas when you haven’t just moved to the madness that is Mistletoe, Michael and Dale?” Victoria handed them both a glass of Merlot as requested.
“We normally see Michael’s parents or his sister and her family, but they’ve taken themselves to the Caribbean this year. I think they’d always wanted to and us having other plans was the excuse they needed,” Dale replied.
“Particularly good now our families are joined together in a new way.” Victoria bumped Ruby’s hip with her own. “I called it when I first met Fran, but Ruby was very insistent that just because they were both lesbians did not mean they were going to get together.”
“To be fair, when we met here, I did vomit sausage roll onto her slipper, so it wasn’t the best start,” Fran said.
“Isn’t that how all the best love stories start? With some sort of mishap? Then they morph into something beautiful.” Michael’s face went all dreamy.
“Ignore him,” Dale said. “He’s been overdosing on far too many Hallmark Christmas movies.”
They made way for Audrey, who bustled in waving her Christmas cracker. “I want my hat. It’s not Christmas without a silly hat. Who wants to pull me?”
“There’s an offer you don’t get every day,” Victoria said.
Audrey ignored her. Her gaze landed on Fran. “You can pull with me, seeing as you look like a Christmas cracker in your green top and red trousers. Ready?”
Fran grabbed the end of Audrey’s cracker and pulled.
It snapped, and Audrey came away with the winning end. She fished out the silver paper hat and put it on, then waved around her prize: a mini pot of Mum’s home-made gooseberry jam. “Delicious! Ready for the joke? What kind of motorbike does Santa drive?”
Nobody offered an answer.
“A Holly Davidson.” Audrey shook her head. “That joke was terrible, Paul. It’s got you written all over it.”
Mum clapping her hands got their attention. “Can everyone please sit and pull your crackers. I’m not responsible for the jokes. To save arguments, I’ve put name tags on everyone’s places, so play nice and sit where I put you. That includes you, Audrey.”
Audrey clucked like she’d never dream of doing anything else. She stalked the table until she found her place. She sat next to Norman, rolling her eyes. “I can’t believe you put me next to him.”
Norman, used to Audrey’s lip, roared with laughter. He put an arm around Audrey and kissed her cheek. “Merry Christmas to you, too, Audrey Parrot.”
Mum caught Dale’s eye. “Dale, I’ve put you on the corner to give you room for your cast.”
Ruby sat in her place — Victoria on her left, Fran on her right. She glanced around the table: she had so much to be grateful for. A loving family, food and drink to celebrate, and Fran. The Christmas gift she hadn’t ordered, but the one it turned out she wanted the most. So much so, she was willing to turn her life upside down for her.
It was about time.
Ruby put a hand on Fran’s thigh under the table.
Fran turned and gave Ruby a wink, before accepting the tray of roast potatoes from Scott.
Ruby had never had Christmas with someone special at her family table before. She’d never even imagined it. But now it was happening, it felt exactly right.
Fran and her parents were the perfect addition to the O’Connell family Christmas. The previous owner had lived in Hollybush Cottage for eight years and never come to dinner once. The Bells had lived there for three months but it might as well have been forever.
A warmth burrowed its way into Ruby’s thighs. She looked down to see Chipper’s pleading eyes staring up at her. It was the same every dinner, every day. Anyone would think the dog never got fed.
“Chipper, in your bed.”
