All systems go for a mouth-watering feast. Ho-ho-hope you are on your way!
I press send, chuckling at my own humour and, taking a glass, pour Irish cream liquor onto lots of ice, making a silent toast to my dad who used to do the same just before the table was filled with deliciousness on Christmas Day. My tummy rumbles and the ice-cold milky drink tastes perfect, the carols ring out from the iPod from a playlist I’ve had for many years and the smell of the whole house is good enough to eat. I’m just about to sit down when I hear footsteps on the stairs.
‘Can I help at all?’
I look around to see my mother, wearing the most beautiful red knee-length dress that totally changes her whole look in the most positive way. Her eyes seem brighter, her skin is glowing, she looks tall and glamorous and the red lipstick she wears shows off her immaculate smile.
‘You can help me greet our first guest,’ I say to her when the doorbell rings just at that very moment. ‘You look very beautiful.’
‘As do you,mia figlia,’ she whispers with a smile and we walk together to the door of our family home to greet Nicholas, all decked out in his Christmas jumper and carrying what looks like a ukulele, just like he had promised.
‘You are so welcome, Nicholas!’ I say to the cheery looking man who, with his white beard and glasses could pass for our very own Santa Claus.
‘Don’t ever say you’ve never met the real Santa,’ he says with a chuckle, as if reading my mind. ‘Oh Ruth, thank you so much for having me.’
He hands me a bottle of sherry and I thank him profusely, and then lead him into the sitting room where we have the fire lit, some carols on as very subtle background music and a tray of glasses just waiting to be filled with drinks of every variety.
‘Nicholas, meet my mother, Elena,’ I say to him and he greets her with a polite handshake. ‘Nicholas is a fantastic pianist who lives on the other side of town.’
‘Well, Iwasa pianist,’ he corrects me. ‘I haven’t played properly in years but I believe there is a piano here? Honestly, I’ve been looking forward to this all week and it has really lifted my spirits.’
‘How lovely,’ I say to him. ‘Speaking of spirits, what would you like to drink? A sherry?’
‘Don’t mind if I do,’ he says and I leave them for a moment to open the bottle and fetch some canapés to nibble on while we wait for dinner.
‘All under control?’ Michael asks when I go to the kitchen.
‘I was right, Nicholas is here first,’ I whisper to him. ‘You okay?’
He kisses me on the forehead.
‘Cruising,’ he says to me as I leave him to it. ‘I’ll be able to join you all in about five minutes. It’s all going according to plan. Oh, and Ruth?’
I stop in my tracks.
‘Yes, Michael?’
‘You look absolutely beautiful today,’ he says to me. ‘This is going to be amazing.’
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror in the hallway on the way past, and I must admit I have to agree with him on that one. I feel very much in control, I feel very calm and I don’t look too bad at all in my green velvet dress that shows off my voluptuous Italian curves and my dark hair just nicely.
I just about make it to the sitting room to pour the drinks when the doorbell rings again and I get a flutter of nerves when I go to answer it, leaving my mother to chat more to Nicholas, a job she seems to like to be given as I imagine it makes her feel part of it all.
‘Kelly! You’re so welcome!’ I say, taking some of the boxes of treats from the young lady who is wearing a Santa hat and a beaming smile.
‘I’ve more in the car,’ she tells me. ‘I won’t be a minute.’
She walks carefully down the steps and returns with a further two white boxes of what I imagine is more of today’s dessert, and as we make our way into the kitchen, she talks nonstop, like a totally different person to the shy, timid girl I met just a few days ago for coffee in Gloria’s.
‘You’ll never believe it, Ruth, but the meringue of the Pavlova collapsed and I had to start all over again late last night to get it right,’ she says to me as she follows me through the hallway. ‘I was up until three this morning finishing everything off but it all worked out in the end. I hope they taste as good as they look!’
‘Michael, this is the very lovely Kelly,’ I say, casually and quickly when we get to the kitchen, not wanting any formalities today at all. ‘Kelly, this is my – this is my very good friend, Michael.’
Michael smiles and extends a hand, throwing a tea towel over his shoulder.
‘You’re very welcome, Kelly,’ he says, ‘and thanks so much for saving me from embarrassing myself with dessert. It’s definitely a whole different talent in itself to be able to do that.’
‘Do you mind if I have a peep?’ I ask her and she nods enthusiastically as I open the first box of four. I stand back in awe. ‘My goodness, that looks absolutely delicious! Thank you so much!’