Page 12 of Season of Gifts

Henry exhaled and pushed himself upright again, the straight-backed posture that could only come from years of training.“That outcome was much more favorable.I’m sorry that this one was not.”

Favorable.So not dead, like Jay’s favorite client.

Jay nodded.He ate in silence, rapidly shoving spoonsful of soup into his mouth.The kitchen slowly returned to normal, Henry pulling a platter of little steaks from the fridge and setting it beside the stovetop.She awkwardly reclaimed her seat while mentally formulating a hypothesis for the benefits of silence versus a complete topic change, since continuing the current one would be an awful option.

With the bowl three-quarters empty, Jay glanced over his shoulder at the table.No place settings for dinner on it yet; their Advent calendar basket sat like a centerpiece, with today’s card propped against the front.Henry had sketched them an old-timey detective’s cap and magnifying glass.

Jay tap-tapped his spoon at the bottom of the bowl.“How many days till we see your mom for Christmas?We’re going to Maine, right?I promised her we would.”

“We are, yes.”The steaks sizzled as they seared.Using a spoon, Henry scooped melted butter from the pan over the tops.The kitchen took on a garlicky aroma.“I thought the Saturday before the holiday, if that’s amenable to work schedules for the two of you.”

“That’s good for me.”Jay laid the spoon face-down and sagged in his chair.His cheeks had more color, at least.

“I can do that.”Four days before Christmas.Later than Jay usually went home, but much easier for her to swing at work.Jay would go tomorrow if he could—soak up hugs and chatter from the remaining mom-substitute who actually cared about him.Maybe she could suggest more time for that.“They’re rolling out a new work-life balance program, starting with closing shop the week between Christmas and New Year’s.We could stay a few days longer if your mother doesn’t mind, Henry.”

“That’s a lovely idea.”Henry made delicate turns in the skillet with his steaks, the tongs holding just tightly enough not to let them fall.Not the toss-and-slap method Dad had used, the one that dripped fat through the grill grates and sent flames flaring up.“I’m certain she’ll be thrilled to cultivate more fans for her goose-and-cranberry sandwiches from the leftovers.”

“Goose and cranberry, huh?”Jay perched his elbows on the chairback, maybe to keep himself from sliding off the seat.No wonder Henry wanted to get more food in him.“At my house—I mean, my parents’ house—it’s a Christmas turkey, and it gets oyster stuffing.”

This year, they’d have a whole host of new traditions.“We always had steaks when I was little.”

“Steaks?”Henry repeated, as Jay turned sideways, saying, “For Christmas?”

“Yup.”She’d take the brown-eyed scrutiny; Jay had perked up at least a little.“Steaks for Christmas.Thick ones, like Henry’s making now, but bigger.”She spread her thumb and forefinger a good inch and a half for the height, then estimated the shape with her hands in midair.She and Ollie had split theirs; Mom and Dad each got their own.“Dad would shovel out to the grill and tie an apron around his winter coat, and Ollie and I played in the snow while he grilled.Baked potatoes, too, wrapped in hot foil, and you couldn’t touch, or you’d burn your fingers.”

Jay poked her shoulder, sizzling through his teeth, and drew back his finger.“Yowtch, hot potato!”

She captured his hand and pressed kisses to the imaginary wound.“I’m sorry I hurt you.”

She was sorry, just for her inept questioning about Mrs.Eickhoff and not a pretend burn.

Jay clasped her hand.“I’m okay.Really.I’m sorry I didn’t tell you at lunch.I think I just wasn’t ready for talking or hugging or…” He shrugged.“I needed to get away.”

“Sometimes the world is big and overwhelming, and that’s all you can do.”The year Dad had been in the hospital for Christmas, Mom had tried to make things festive, but Alice had never wanted anything so much as to leave that sad, stale room.

The next year, he’d insisted on keeping up their tradition, and she’d hastily shoveled the patio while her parents argued, afraid he’d try to do it himself.She’d checked for ice, she was sure she had, but then there’d been the fall and the hasty trip to the ER, and a burn wrap on his palm where he’d grazed the warming grill on his way down.She and Ollie had sucked on candy canes courtesy of the nursing staff.The steaks had gone uncooked in the snow.

Henry touched her face.She startled back.When had he finished at the stove?Their steaks rested on the low wire rack on the far counter.“All right, Alice?”

“Yeah, just got lost there.Those steaks smell amazing.”She ostentatiously inhaled.“So, goose for Christmas.What’s that like?”

Jay chimed in, asking whether the goose dinner constituted a gift, and if that broke Henry’s vow that their twenty-four days of Christmas would be avian-free.

As plates and bowls and silverware appeared, her mind circled back to Jay’s earlier declaration:So it wouldn’t be a complete stranger who told him his mom was dead.She never let herself think about stuff like that.But if something happened, she’d get the call, wouldn’t she?Or no.She rarely spoke to Mom, and not to Dad at all.If they still had the list of contacts on the fridge, Ollie would be top of the list.Ollie would get that call.

That was unacceptable.

Chapter six

Henry

Retoolingthecalendarthismorning had been the correct choice.

Henry relaxed into the slope of the chair and stared into the night sky from their cozy roof deck, with its newly installed infrared heater warming his back.He’d set out blankets regardless; thus far only Alice had swept one across her lap.Clouds hid what little starlight could pierce the city’s glow, but he couldn’t fault them—they had produced the delightful dusting of snow sprawling before him and the leisurely drifting flakes yet falling.The first snow of the season added special charm to their cocoa alfresco.

“And the desserts.”Jay rotated his marshmallow over the small flame at the center of the s’mores station as the pale edge began to brown and bubble.“You would not believe the desserts she made, all the time, every week something different, just to share with her card club.”

“A generous woman.”Awakening before Alice and Jay, as was typical, he’d stealthily lifted the wax seals on two envelopes and switched their contents before carefully melting the closures back into place.Hence had they ended up here this evening, reminiscing, rather than exploring red and green rope in the playroom.“How fortunate you and the rest of her friends are to have known her.What kind of a baker was she?”

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