Page 3 of Christmas Sunrise
"Hello!"
"Oh, Jenna! In the kitchen!" Cynthia calls out and I make my way to join her there. I walk in to find her wearing an apron, busy at one of the counters, while James is sat at the round table in the middle of the room with a newspaper and coffee in front of him. Queen’sThank God It’s Christmasis playing on the radio and I smile to myself knowing it will be something similar in our kitchen with Marty at work on Christmas dinner tomorrow.
"Morning, Jenna." James looks up. "Want a coffee?"
"Please," I say.
"Latte?" he checks, already knowing my answer.
"Thanks." I smile at him as he stands to make my drink.
"Wow, that looks amazing," I tell Cynthia as I spy what she's working on. It's a cheesecake and she's currently arranging fruit and nuts in a crown around the outside.
"Dessert for tomorrow," she says, barely lifting her eyes from the task.
"One of four," James adds with emphasis.
"Fourdesserts?"
"And a cheese platter," he replies.
"It's not Christmas without a cheese board and crackers!" Cynthia says firmly.
"But there's only going to be six of us," I say, trying to sound as gentle as possible.
Cynthia's eyes dart up and she puts her hands on her hips. "I'm not expecting it to all get eaten, but it is Christmas..."
"And Cynthia is a woman used to making a four-course meal single-handedly on Christmas Day. Consider this part of the weaning off process," her husband explains with kind eyes.
"I don't do it single-handedly; Marty has helped me the last ten years or so."
"True," James concedes.
"And he's looking forward to your help tomorrow," I offer. It had taken more persuading than we'd anticipated to have Cynthia agree for us to host Christmas this year, and I'm mindful that she could still be feeling a little delicate about it.
"Speaking of," her shoulders relax a little as she gets back to work, "what time shall we come over? Nine? Or earlier?"
"Ten should be fine," I say but when Cynthia looks up with a forlorn expression creasing her face, I correct myself. "Or nine-thirty? Yes, nine-thirty would be great."
"Grand." Cynthia nods at me and turns her attention back to the cheesecake.
"Here you go, Jenna." James hands me a cup of coffee with a smile that is exactly the same as his daughter Maeve's - a surprisingly mischievous upswing of both corners of the mouth and an unexpected number of laughter lines in each corner.
"Thanks," I say and I lean back against the counter I'm closest to while James goes back to sit at the table.
"What time does Jake get in?" he asks.
"Quarter past four," Cynthia answers before my mouth is even open. "Are you sure you don't want us to get him? James could go. What time is Marty finishing work?"
"I’ll pick him up after the lunchtime rush so there should be plenty of time for us to be there for Jake. But thank you for the offer."
"It's not like James has anything better to do," Cynthia replies.
"I'll have you know I have set aside the whole day to wrap your hundreds of presents."
"Go on with yourself." Cynthia bats a hand in his direction but her tone is soft.
I push off the counter and straighten up. "Speaking of which, that's why I'm here. To get Marty's present."
