Page 22 of Stuck in Christmas

“I wouldn’t be. Anywhere. At all.” I laughed. “You have a pretty good memory for my parents’ story.”

Joe raised an eyebrow, an affectionate smile playing on his lips. “Because it reminds me of how I met my Bonnie. A chance encounter at Christmas turned into the love of a lifetime. I’ve been doing everything possible to keep her in love with me ever since.”

Eli’s gaze lingered on me and made me flush. This kitchen was getting hot. Maybe there were fans?

“I’ve seen the way Bonnie looks at you. You probably don’t have to work that hard,” Eli said.

“Probably not, but I do anyway—because I love her, and I want to show her how much every day,” Joe replied, sincerity ringing through his words.

“So, you never fight?” I asked.

“Lord, no. What’s there to fight about? Who takes out the trash? Who doesthe laundry? Weironed outthose things—before we got married,” Joe laughed at his pun.

Eli grinned. “You decided, ‘I do the dishes’ before you said the official ‘I Do’?”

“As a matter of fact—yes.” Joe shook his head at the memory. “We were so swept up in the romance of being in love and getting married, but my grandfather sat us down and told us the secret to a long and happy marriage.”

“Happy Wife, Happy Life?” I quipped.

“Always apologize? Never go to bed angry?” Eli joined in, smirking.

“Marriage is a 50-50 proposition?” I added.

Joe sliced his hands through the air. “My grandfather said true love is nothing like you hear in the movies or romance novels. And it’s not 50-50.”

“It’s not?” We both asked, then laughed.

“No, it’s not. It’s 100-100. You have to give 100 percent every day. But there will be days when you don’t feel like giving 100 percent. And that’s why love is more like a pendulum. Some days, it swings toward you—you take more than you give. Then there are days when it swings toward her—you give more than you take. But the pendulum is always in motion, always moving, and it all evens out. When you start worrying about who’s getting how much is when the pendulum stops moving, and that, my friends, is when you have a problem,” Joe said, eyeing both of us as he continued. “So, my Bonnie and I decided to get some of that pesky chore stuff out of the way early on. She hated goingto the grocery store. I hated cleaning toilets. That’s why I do all the shopping around here.”

“Lucky you.” Eli began measuring out more ingredients, the laughter and warmth of the kitchen enveloping them like a cozy blanket.

“He is. That’s one of the ways he shows her how much she loves her, by doing something she doesn’t like doing,” I answered.

“She's a smart cookie,” Joe said to Eli.

Eli chuckled, the corners of his mouth curling up into a smile. “And speaking of cookies, we need to get back to?—”

“Oh, I know what you need to get back to,” Joe interjected, the playful lilt of his voice filled with underlying encouragement. “Now, Miss Renee, when you’re done with these cookies, maybe you could help me in the town square with the Gingerbread competition.”

“Sure.” I felt Eli’s eyes boring into the side of my face. My heart raced as I thought about being alone in the kitchen with him again.

Would he try to kiss me again? Or would we be interrupted again?

“I’ll go with her. To show her the way,” Eli’s voice cracked on the last part of the sentence.

“Show her the way to the town square right out front of this building? Sure, son. If that’s what you want to go with.” Joe began to whistle a Christmas carol as he sauntered out of the kitchen, and the door swung shut behind him.

“Meddling old man,” Eli muttered.

“What was that?” I asked.

“Nothing.”

I bit back a smile as I turned my attention backto the flour, but Eli's gaze bore into me, a mix of curiosity and warmth that made my pulse quicken. “Do you believe in all that? Kismet? Fate? Destiny?” I asked, pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear as I tried to avert his piercing look.

Eli pondered for a moment, the silence stretching like a taut string. “If I didn’t know Joe and Bonnie, maybe not. But I’ve been blessed to see how strong love can be when you find your soulmate.” His words hung in the air, rich with conviction. “And he’s right—they never fight. He does get on her about walking around after her hip surgery, but that’s not fighting; that’s concern for her well-being.”

I slowly sifted the flour, feeling an inexplicable flutter of nerves as I avoided eye contact with him. “You seem to know an awful lot about this. Is there someone whose well-being you’re concerned about?”