Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
CATE
W hen they reached the house, the smell of a baking ham met them. Her mother might not have approved. All appliances had to be turned off when they left the house. But Cate was calling the shots now and that smell when they opened the kitchen door? Worth it. Hams took a while to heat properly. What this kitchen needed was a programmable double oven, but she was saving that idea for later.
“I’m starving,” Sam said, heading for the front hall. The wheels of the scooter clattered against the marble tiles. It was amazing how her niece had learned to get around on that handy little thing.
In the car on the way home, Cate had fielded subtle questions about that handsome Dr. McCall. Of course she remembered him. Who could forget the sweet, serious boy who had picked them up at the airport after they’d gotten the news about Eric and Jo? Monty had been so impressed with the lad’s maturity and how he handled everything when they were struggling.
Maybe she’d play along and see what happened. Sam was in such a mood and Cate couldn’t blame her. She was glad that Marlowe had come to join them. It was Christmas, a time for joy. They were making new friends while savoring the past. The old family movies had given them so much to think about and appreciate.
Sure, Samantha was in a mood and her injury hadn’t helped a bit. The girl had always been aware of her role as the oldest child, worrying about everyone else. Thank goodness Marlowe had come to Sunnycrest to help with everything. It was wonderful to see the three girls all together. Somewhere their parents were smiling. And Cate suspected that Monty was up there smiling along with them.
“I want everyone to have an appetite.” Following Samantha down the hall, Cate swung out of her cape and hung it on a hook. “It shouldn’t take long for us to rustle up this meal.”
When Samantha reached for a hook, Cate helped her out of her jacket. She wasn’t used to seeing Samantha struggle…with anything. “Want to help with the fondue?” The Swiss cheese and white wine mixture might be a good fit for Samantha since she could stay in one place.
“You bet.” Samantha scooted in front of her down the hall and into the kitchen. Opening the door of the refrigerator, Samantha pulled out the swiss cheese and was soon dredging slices in flour. After pulling out the deep pan, Marlowe measured the wine, dropping in three crushed cloves of garlic. As she worked, Marlowe sang bits of the carols they’d sung that evening.
“Wish I’d brought home one of those booklets,” Cate murmured after “Silver Bells” had somehow morphed into “O Little Town of Bethlehem.”
“I did!” Striding back out into the hall, Marlowe soon returned with a crumpled program. She gave Cate a hug. “Great minds think alike.”
“Are you going to come and see me sometime soon?” Cate murmured into her niece’s long hair. Moments like these were so special. Seated in the highchair, Holly was thumping a plastic spoon to the music Isabel had found on some radio station. Her mother smiled at her while she melted the chocolate chips and butter for the fruit fondue.
“You bet. Group plan.” With one hand Marlowe circled the room with a wave. “We definitely need to do this more often.”
“I totally agree.” Isabel swirled her chocolate laden spoon in the air. When some dropped onto the highchair, Holly dove onto it with both hands. Oh dear, was chocolate good for babies?
“I hope so.” Cate didn’t say anything more. Over the years they’d always said that. Wrote it on birthday cards, threw out the idea during phone calls. Once they were together, they realized how very special this time together was. More time to connect with the past. More time to plan for the future. But so often they'd all gone back to their busy lives, and their promises to each other were forgotten.
Sinking her digital oven thermometer into the ham, Cate saw it was ready. Earlier she’d scored the ham diagonally and studded each diamond with a clove. Then she’d mixed up the brown sugar, honey, butter and pineapple concoction to spread over the top. That crispy top looked divine when Cate opened the oven door. Time to bring it out.
“Can you grab that, Marlowe?” She motioned to the oven.
“You bet.” Opening a drawer, Marlowe took out two Christmas hot pads and carefully hefted the heavy ham from the oven. “What a beast,” she muttered, putting the pan carefully on the wire rack. Of the three of them, Marlowe probably was the most muscular.
The ham looked wonderful as it sat on the counter. Cate’s mind spun ahead to Christmas. “Tomorrow I’m thinking we’ll make dainty ham and cheese sandwiches in the morning. Shouldn’t be too hard.”
“For our traditional open house?” Samantha threw in with a grin.
“Exactly.” The best ideas often came from the heart, not the head. Look at what her spur-of-the-moment call to Samantha and then Marlowe had brought about? A terrific family reunion.
Sitting in her highchair, Holly had become restless and whiny. Izzy looked tired from sweeping up the cheerios her daughter had been lobbing to the dog.
To Cate’s delight, Marlowe stepped up. “Time to look at those Christmas lights, baby girl.” And with that Marlowe scooped up Izzy and carted her out to the living room. The baby’s initial surprise soon turned to a big smile. Mumbling to her aunt, Holly tried to capture a curl or two on Marlowe’s bobbing head.
Yes, this house was meant for love and laughter. Cate wanted a crowd here on Christmas, whatever it took. “Izzy, have you made contact with folks for tomorrow?”
Her niece waved her phone in the air. “Going to get on that right now.”
Great. Now she’d pester someone else. “How’s that fondue coming, Samantha?”
“We’re getting there.” Swirling her wooden spoon through the cheese in a figure eight, she looked like she knew what she was doing. “No problem.”
Cate was glad when Marlowe re-appeared with the baby. “I think she’ll be happier with us out here. Her mom’s busy in the hall, calling friends and customers. It sure helps to have all these local connections.” Marlowe slid Holly back into the highchair and handed her two clean wooden spoons. The baby immediately started clapping them together.
“How about slicing up that beautiful Italian bread I picked up yesterday?” Cate asked.
“I’m on it.” Marlowe slid open the knife drawer and grabbed a serrated knife.
After she cut the first few thick slices into squares, making sure each had a crust to anchor the fondue fork, the sweet smell of fresh bread filled the room. A basket was waiting for those chunks. From time to time, Marlowe handed Holly a small crust. The baby looked delighted. The spoons clattered to the floor as she grabbed the bread and began to gum it.
The chocolate sauce was ready in the double boiler. Izzy looked very pleased with herself. Snatching a chunk of fresh bread from the basket, she munched contentedly and said, “I sure hope we have enough food for them tomorrow.”
“Not to worry. We’ll have plenty, “Cate said with confidence. What did those girls think she’d been doing while they were off skiing? Izzy had curled up with the baby and Cate had rushed from shop to shop to pick up her orders. She’d done a considerable amount of entertaining when Monty was alive and enjoyed getting back to it. And it was fun to bustle around this kitchen with her nieces. But before she left, she had to call someone to come and fix that dishwasher.
Isabel gave Holly another crust of bread to gnaw on. “What should I do next?”
Blotting her forehead with one of the tea towels, Cate glanced around the kitchen. She loved watching all this good food being prepared. “How about cutting that ham? The platter is in the dining room.”
“Carving? You want me to do the carving?” Izzy’s jaw dropped and her sisters both turned to Cate.
Carving . A magical word in some families. Oftentimes it was the man of the house who did the carving. Their father had always carved whatever they were having that holiday. And they all knew it. Cate decided it was high time to change that tradition.
“I think women do a fine job carving, don’t you?” Cate said yanking open another warped drawer that stuck. Eventually she got it open and brought out the carving set etched with her father’s initials. She remembered when Monty had given Cate’s father this gift one Christmas. Dad had loved it and used it all the time. What a shame that it had sat in this drawer, forgotten for so long.
“Listen, little sister.” Thank goodness Marlowe broke the hesitant silence. “If you don’t want to slice up that yummy ham, I’m happy to do it.”
“Absolutely not. I can handle it.” Izzy stared her down until the sisters broke into laughter. Cate noticed that while she was carving, Izzy slipped Piper a sliver or two of ham.
“Marlowe, would you fix the avocado salads?” Cate nodded to the basket of avocados on the counter.
“Did you give them the authoritative squeeze?” Marlowe joked. No one wanted hard avocados.
“You have to ask? Thank goodness the stores now sell ripe avocados.” There had been more than one year when they’d chomped through hard avocados that had no flavor. Those were the days when cooks would tuck the avocadoes into a brown paper bag for three or four days to hasten the ripening.
Cate took the bibb lettuce from the refrigerator. She whisked together the oil and vinegar dressing, giving it a dash of her Italian seasoning and some squirts of fresh lemon. Samantha continued stirring the melted cheese while Marlowe arranged and dressed the salads.
Before long, they were all seated around the dining room table and didn’t that feel good? Cate felt overheated but proud. Dining rooms were meant to be used. Yet during the summer they often were overlooked. That round table in the kitchen had been the main gathering place in recent years. But when Cate’s parents were alive, her mother had insisted on using the dining room. Of course, she knew how to wash the table linens. After Mom and Dad passed on, Cate and Joanna had sent those linens off to the cleaners. “I have better ways to use my time,” Joanna had told her. And she was right.
Izzy carried the highchair out to the long table and put it at the end. The cheese fondue was put at one end, along with the breadbasket. After several trips back to the kitchen, everyone settled down to eat. Contentment flowed through Cate. Food seemed to be therapy for the entire family. Sharing this traditional meal filled them all with happy memories.
As they ate, Izzy filled them in on the guests coming the following day. The list included a group from the nursing home. Jenny and Dawn were bringing their canasta partners, which was great. Debbie and her husband would be there, along with their two little girls. Patricia, Debbie’s cousin who was helping out this Christmas, was delighted to be invited and was bringing her boyfriend.
Lastly, Isabel mentioned Skipper Malone. The table fell silent. The ham in her mouth solidified into a block. After chewing a bit more, Cate swallowed with some effort. Izzy’s divorce had been so painful. The first Quinn girl to get married and the first to divorce.
“Well, he is your pastry chef now, isn’t he?” Samantha asked. Cate hoped Samantha would be tactful because who knew what Skipper was to Isabel now? The marriage hadn’t worked out and this was small town. Everyone knew everything about everybody else. But somehow Izzy had made it through.
“Look, Skipper’s always going to be in my life.” Now Izzy waved a fork for emphasis. “We’re both older now.”
Leave it to Marlowe to jump right in. “What does that mean? How important is he to you now that you’re both older?”
Samantha set down her fork. Oh boy, Cate hoped that her oldest niece wasn’t going to hammer things out with Isabel at the dinner table. Some things were better left unsaid. Isabel was now a woman in her thirties. Surely Samantha could see that her baby sister was entitled to make her own decisions.
As the silence continued, even Holly seemed to feel the tension. She had been mashing bread chunks onto her tray but now sat silent. Poor Isabel must be exhausted, getting through this Christmas season with her shop and the baby. “I don’t like to categorize people,” Isabel finally said.
“I think that’s a good practice.” Samantha’s words came slowly. Marlowe relaxed against the back of her chair and so did Cate. But her oldest niece wasn’t finished. “I mean, it’s not as if Skipper did anything wrong back then. Not that I can remember anyway.” She gave her sister a puzzled glance.
“No, you’re right.” Izzy shook her head. “That’s not what our divorce was about. He didn’t cheat on me. Didn’t drink too much or try to push me around.”
The mental images brought a smile to Cate’s lips because Skipper had always been a sweet guy. Monty had thought that was an area where he could improve. “The boy doesn’t seem to have any ambition,” her husband had told Cate once.
“We were so young back then,” Isabel continued, turning to wipe Holly’s drool. “Maybe we had impossible expectations.”
Cate dopped her eyes. That comment sounded as if it had come from a therapist. She vaguely remembered Isabel going to some sessions after that divorce.
Should Cate and Monty have talked to Isabel about marital expectations? She hadn’t even thought of it. Monty had felt that he and Cate may have failed Isabel somehow. That if Eric and Joanna had still been alive, they would’ve steered her in a different direction. But all that was past history. What good did it do to over-analyze it now? “Is it time to clear the plates?”
Jumping up, Marlowe and Izzy gathered the plates. The girls handled their grandmother’s china with care and that made her happy. Their mention of marriage and expectations faded. When they returned, they carried a platter of cut strawberries, bananas, and pineapple, along with the dark chocolate fondue in another pot. Looking at that warm swirling sweetness, they all groaned. Cate had made decaf coffee and everyone took a cup.
Samantha complained loudly about gaining ten pounds during this visit, but no one passed up dessert. Taking their time, they talked about the open house the following day. Cate was so glad that the house would be filled again. “Now we’re not going to fuss,” she told the girls, but their eyes went to the stack of linens that she’d taken out of the breakfront that day. Why not use her mother’s best linen? Why were they saving it?
After dinner, they all took a second cup of decaf into the living room. Marlowe tended the fire while Samantha positioned herself on the sofa. After Isabel had secured the baby in her runabout, she handed out the stockings. The time Cate had taken finding earrings, the right gift cards and Lindt chocolate balls all paid off. And she loved the scented soaps and creams the girls had tucked into her stocking.
Although she wanted to clean up the kitchen herself, Marlowe wouldn’t allow it. “We have a big day tomorrow,” Marlowe said with a warning note in her voice. “We don’t want to wear you out before Christmas Day.”
Marlowe had a point and after kissing everyone goodnight, Cate went upstairs to her room. While she was reading her favorite Christmas story by Anthony Trollope, she heard Isabel come up with the baby. Someone must have let Piper out for a final walk because a draft crept up the stairs with the opening and closing of the front door.
The wonderful story took about forty-five minutes to read. When Marlowe and Samantha came upstairs, they popped their heads in to say goodnight again. Cate didn’t know when she’d had a better Christmas Eve.
As she drifted off to sleep, Isabel called out into the hallway, “Good night, Aunt Cate! Good night, Sam and Marlowe!”
“Good night, Isabel,” Aunt Cate called back. “Marlowe and Samantha, sleep tight.”
Cate smiled as the goodnights echoed through the second floor. Yes, this had been the best Christmas Eve ever. What surprises might Christmas Day bring?