Page 40 of Spicy Nick

“Well, first I’m going to get the breakfast casserole and cinnamon-roll French toast in the oven,” I say. “After that, I’ll start the tomato sauce.”

“You think anyone’ll still want breakfast?” she asks doubtfully. “It’s kinda late.”

“I have no idea,” I tell her. What I do know is thatIwant breakfast, and I’m pretty sure she does, as well. “If they don’t, they don’t. I’m pretty sure they’ll want to eatsomethingbetween now and dinner. And appetizers aren’t that filling, so…”

“All true,” Scout replies. “All right well, I guess I’ll prep the roast for the oven and then start chopping veggies.”

“Team,” I say in acknowledgment, holding out my fist.

“Team,” she replies, bumping her fist against mine. Then, “Whoa, hold on a minute, you. Not so fast,” she admonishes as I start to turn away. “Look up,” she says, pointing toward the ceiling, far overhead.

Glancing upward, I see a sprig of mistletoe suspended from the ceiling. How it got there, I don’t know. What’s holding it in place is another mystery. “Where the hell did that come from?” I ask her. “Did you put that there?”

Scout shakes her head. “Nope. Don’t know, don’t care.”

“But…”

“Shut up,” Scout says as she grabs me by the shirtfront and pulls me close. “And kiss me.”

And I do.

The restof the day unfolds without any more surprises—assuming that that fact doesn’t count as a surprise in and of itself, which I guess it does.

Everyone enjoys the company, the food and the wine. No one’s unhappy with the presents they receive. Even the presence of Scout’s annoying stepbrother can’t disturb my sense of peace and well-being; my sense of being exactly where I want to be, where I’m supposed to be, surrounded by all the people that I love the most. Or a good portion of them, anyway.

And then, as the day is winding down, as we’re sitting around the living room after dinner, nibbling on gingerbread, sipping on cordials, “filling the corners,” as my mother would say; after most of the families have taken their leave, and it’s down to just the core group of us—my cousin’s family and my own; Kate’s phone chimes with an incoming text.

“Yes!” she squeals, sitting up excitedly.

She shows her phone to Mandy, who nods and says, “Well, it’s about time.”

“What’s going on now?” Lucy demands as Mandy gets to her feet and leaves the room.

“Last minute gift,” Kate tells her. “It was supposed to have been here earlier but someone—” she nods at the door Mandy has just disappeared through. “Told me something that almost made me take it back.”

“Still not my fault,” Mandy calls back loudly, sounding just like her mom.

“Who’s it for?” I ask, listening to the soft chatter of voices floating in from the entryway.

“It’s for you, Dad,” Kate explains. “YouandScout; because I figure you’re the ones who need it the most. And it’s for Cole too, because he’s old enough now to appreciate it. And it’s for me as well, even though I’m probably going away in the Fall, so…”

“I thought we weren’t talking about that today,” Mandy says gloomily, returning to the room with Seth and Deirdre who, as I understood it, were supposedly at spending the holiday with her family, several hours away.

“We’re not,” Kate tells Mandy. “Just stop fussing, all right? It’ll all work out.”

“Says you,” Mandy grumbles.

I shift my gaze to the newcomers. Seth enters the room carrying a large, white box topped with a big, red bow. He’s young and fairly strong, but he seems to be struggling a little. Either whatever he’s carrying is unusually heavy, or the contents of the box keep shifting. “Hey, are you okay? D’you need help with that?” I ask.

He shakes his head no. “Nah, I’m fine,” he replies—also sounding eerily like his mother. “It’s all good.” He carries the box into the center of the room then takes a knee and carefully lowers it to the floor.

With one hand pressed to the top of the box, he turns to look at the fireplace then at Kate. “I think this’ll be okay. It’s not too close.”

Kate nods in response, then turns back to us. “So. Like I was saying, I might be going away for school, but even if I do, I’ll always be back—at holidays, or whenever—and this will still be my home.”

“That’s right,” Scout says, gulping audibly. I reach out to squeeze her hand as I smile at Kate and say, “Always.”

Kate nods back at us both. “So, while I was trying to decide what to get you, it occurred to me that there’s something that every home needs, and ours was missing one.”

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