Chapter 5 Eggnog and Wi-Fi
For breakfast, Eliza prepared coffee and honey butter buns with eggs on the side. The eggs were the exception on her very short list of items she could actually cook—and most of them were breakfast-related dishes.
She stood in the kitchen, dressed in Lachlan’s sweatpants and a t-shirt sporting a gingerbread man with a crumbled leg, the caption “Oh Snap,” written on it.
She’d changed into it shortly before she retired to bed late in the morning.
Puffcake hadn’t liked the concept of the new t-shirt one bit.
He took one look at it when she came down the stairs and had been throwing looks of disapproval in Eliza’s direction ever since.
“Hey, don’t judge me.” She threw her hands up when she entered the room. “This is Lachlan’s t-shirt, not mine.”
That seemed to appease Puffcake for the time being, because he fluttered over to Eliza’s side and perched militantly on her shoulder, like a lion surveying his pride.
His flight was significantly slower than it had been yesterday, and with red crumbs that dotted his face, it was the only tell that she’d made red velvet biscuits last night. The rest of the biscuits were “mysteriously” gone from the cloche she’d placed them under.
The biscuits had been the second recipe of Isadora’s cookbook, and with it came another vision, just as it had the first time. As soon as Eliza took a bite of the freshly baked dessert, she was dropped into the witch’s romantic world once more.
It had been only moments after the first memory took place. Isadora had said something to tease her beau, Ernest, before swiping her finger in the crimson batter and bopping him on the nose.
He kissed her all over, smearing the batter on her neck, chest, and rosy cheeks before scooping her up and stomping them both up the stairs. Eliza didn’t follow, but heard their shouts of playful giggles all the way up until the door slammed shut behind them.
Lachlan came around the corner, and Puffcake snubbed up his nose. Lachlan wrinkled his brows, confused by Puffcake’s coldness until he glanced Eliza’s way. After noting the shirt, he just laughed. “Looks like I’ll be getting the cold shoulder the rest of the day.”
“In his defense, you did pack a graphically offensive T-shirt,” Eliza pointed out. She smiled as she rubbed the dragon’s underbelly, and he kicked his foot repeatedly in satisfaction.
“We’re going to have to start giving you rations, Puffcake.
I’m not even sure where you store all of that cake you ate,” added Eliza.
Or how it was possible for him to eat in the first place, or how he was sentient …
There was a lot about Puffcake that she didn’t quite understand. Or about this cottage, apparently.
But a thought crossed her mind.
“Puffcake,” she paused her scratching to ask him a serious question. “Did anything strange happen to you after you ate the red velvet biscuits last night?”
Puffcake yawned, innocently shaking his head. He wasn’t even suspicious of her questioning in the slightest.
Interesting. If the magic didn’t work on him, how was she able to see it?
Lachlan wandered sleepily into the kitchen. “Good morning, by the way,” he yawned, coming over to the coffee pot to fill his cup. He parted the curtain above the kitchen sink as he took a swig.
The snow was still falling, but not as aggressively as it had the night before. The gingerbread cottage was so covered in it that it looked like a child had gone a little too crazy with extra icing.
She placed two plates down on the round table and a significantly smaller plate down on the windowsill for Puffcake.
Eliza couldn’t help but be grateful for the silence as they ate. Lachlan had thanked her for making breakfast and even complimented her on the eggs. Though she didn’t know how to take it.
She knew they were a far cry from her baking, but she made them enough at the diner back home to know how to prepare them right.
Maybe he was just being nice. Or maybe he meant it?
She suddenly felt a prick of guilt for how cold she’d treated him yesterday. “I’m sorry. For yesterday.” She bit out the words. “I know all this isn’t exactly ideal for either of us, but I should’ve been a little nicer about it.” She stuck her hand out for him to shake, calling for a truce.
His large hand wrapped around hers, and she couldn’t help but notice how warm and how much larger it was than her own. “Don’t worry about it,” he smiled. “I’ll be honest, I was a little bummed, too. But I’ll keep you around for the time being if you promise to continue baking.”
Once he finished his plate, he scooted away from the table, finished off the last of his coffee, and headed for the door. He pulled on his boots and shrugged on his thick winter coat.
“Where are you going?” Eliza asked.
“To shovel the driveway. That way, you can, at the very least, get out if you need to. Or go for a walk.”
Eliza’s cheeks bloomed as she looked down at her unfinished plate of food. She wasn’t leaving. Why did he just assume that she would be the one to do so? It was a thoughtful gesture, but she wondered how much of it was for her and how much of it was to bribe her to leave.
This was her cottage, the one she always returned to every Christmas. And now, she felt like she had a mystery to solve, a puzzle to keep her mind occupied. Her eyes flitted to Isadora’s Cookbook, longing to try the next dessert.
Eliza thought it prudent not to share her late-night baking escapade with Lachlan.
She had to be careful. She couldn’t make the recipes during the day while Lachlan was awake, in case he saw the desserts and wanted to taste them. She wasn’t sure if the memory hadn’t worked on Puffcake because he wasn’t human, or if they only worked for her, but she didn’t want to find out.
She would have to wait until he was asleep. Until then, she would bake some more of her own creations.
Puffcake helped her fire up the cooker just as Lachlan, once again getting the hint she wasn’t in for conversation, set for the door. The lock was still jammed.
“Great,” he said, throwing up his hands. “We’re going to die here.”
“A bit dramatic, don’t you think?” she said, not bothering to look up from the butter she was churning.
“We don’t even have food for this next week. At this rate, it’s looking like that’s what our fate will be.”
Eliza’s heart dropped.
No. Surely he was wrong. Surely this would all blow over soon, and she’d at least have the back half of her getaway to herself.
She’d go insane before she starved to death.
Granted, they did have milk, eggs, bread, and an endless stock of baking supplies. They wouldn’t actually starve, but even Eliza needed something other than pastries and breakfast food to survive on.
“Maybe try the back door,” Eliza suggested, eager to send him away. He’d been able to open it yesterday, moments before Puffcake flew inside.
“Good idea.” He crossed the room to the back door, moving slowly to avoid any knee injuries from the kitchen this time. Just as he was about to pull on the peppermint handle, the deadbolt magically clicked into place.
Locked.
The house seemed to shudder a laugh.
Lachlan even tried unlatching a window. The latches snapped shut no sooner than after he unlocked them.
“Maybe there’s a killer on the loose,” Eliza suggested. “It’s trying to keep us safe from them.”
She dared not say that just yesterday, she even questioned if Lachlan was one himself. She really needed to stop watching so much true crime.
A knock came at the front door.
They just stared at each other from across the room. Even Puffcake lifted his head from where he lay on the mantle.
Eliza didn’t want to answer, and if it had been any other week, she would’ve let whoever was at the door just stand there waiting in the cold. But she wanted to see if the door would open. Plus, it might’ve been the rental company coming to sort out the misunderstanding.
The thought made her quickly drop what she was doing and make a break for the door.
Eliza gently twisted the handle for fear that the magic might recognize her touch and recoil. Astonished, the door unlatched and slid open without a problem, like it wasn’t possible for anything to cause it to be malfunctioning in the first place.
A woman about Eliza’s age stood there, mid-length lavender hair tumbling around her face in ribbons.
The lime-green snowsuit she wore made her eyes pop all the brighter.
They were an unnatural-looking yellow-green, and she wore earmuffs that perfectly matched her suit, like she color-coordinated down to the last eccentric detail.
“Hi there! I’m Gretel. My brother, Hansel, and I live in the cabin just down the road.” She smiled widely, extending her hand in a formal greeting.
“Pleasure to meet you,” Eliza said, shaking Gretel’s hand back.
“Was offered free residence for life after an incident that happened in one of the cottages as kids,” Gretel explained.
“Anyways, I came by to invite you to the Reindeer Games in a couple of days, and figured, since you were renting this place during the week of Christmas, that you might like to know about them.”
Before Eliza could kindly reject the offer, Lachlan came by her side. He lounged in the doorway, like the frame was made for him to wade in.
“Hi, Gretel,” he greeted her with a smile. “We’d love to go.”
“Except we can’t,” Eliza added on, looking at Lachlan in silent warning. “The snow is too high. We might get lost in all this.”
Blaming it on the weather seemed better than flat out saying, I don’t want to go, or, our door magically locks on us and we don’t want to be on the outside of it when it does.
She’d be fine if the door magically jammed again, only this time with Lachlan on the outside. Puffcake could stay.
Gretel frowned. “Hansel and I would be happy to help shovel your driveway. All of the main roads are already clear. There’s a shorter way to the village, too, in case you didn’t pack proper winter gear.”