Page 37 of Confessions of a Christmasholic

Gus watched, his heart full as they danced on the pavement, his best friends and his mother-in-law, Sutton and his daughter. Sutton’s beanie fell off her head and her blonde hair flicked around her face, her smile wide and her eyes bright. Her cheeks turned red from the combination of the cold and the exercise, and he thought he’d never seen anyone quite so lovely. She took his breath away.

This was shaping up to be a better-than-normal Christmas. At this rate, he definitely wouldn’t need to punch another inflatable Santa.

* * *

One of Sutton’s best childhood memories was making biscuits with her mother and brother. She couldn’t quite remember how it came to be that her mum spent the afternoon in the kitchen with them, but she remembered it being a bright, happy, fun day. Layla was there too, and the six of them mixed ingredients, made neon-coloured icing sugar and danced around the kitchen.

There had been a lot of laughter, singing along to the radio, and it was one of the few days she felt like a kid, and not her mum’s deputy. She’d been free of responsibility, and she’d loved every minute in that tiny kitchen on a rainy Cape day in winter. But her freedom only lasted until later that night when Jaimie threw up all over his bed from eating too much sugar. He’d called out to her, not their mum, and Sutton cleaned him up and changed his linen.

Still, it was a good memory and one she wanted to recreate this Christmas with the twins. Rosie and Felix were initially enthusiastic, but their attention span only lasted until the decoration stage of the first batch out. They each covered a star and a Christmas tree with too-thick icing before declaring themselves bored. They started flicking icing at each other and feeding great big blobs to Pig. Sutton decided life was safer with them out of the kitchen and sent them off to watch TV. Yeah, yeah, say what you will but the big screen was an excellent way to keep them occupied.

Sutton picked up a cookie and bit into it. If she ignored the taste of baking soda, they weren’t too bad. And the too-sweet, melt-enamel-off-teeth icing sugar should cover the taste of bicarb.

Sutton sighed and looked at the clock. Gus was due home sometime soon and his too regimented soul would not appreciate the mess. She could see his eyes narrowing in distaste, the tension in his shoulders, the way he’d close his eyes in frustration. He’d be even less impressed to hear Rosie’s hair needed washing because it was streaked with icing, and, despite washing his face and hands twice, Felix was still sticky.

A good nanny – she wasnot!She’d dumped the twins in front of the TV and she’d ignored Pig licking the icing and cookie crumbs off their clothes. They needed a bath, but she also needed to ice about a thousand biscuits – unfortunately, she’d made enough mixture to supply three small countries and several army bases – and clean up the bomb site.

Instead of getting stuck in – the dishes wouldn’t wash themselves – Sutton sat on a bar stool at the island in the centre of the kitchen and pulled her phone towards her. She knew she shouldn’t, she was already feeling overwhelmed and annoyed, but she couldn’t help going to Layla’s Insta page. She hadn’t updated it in a while but today there were a bunch of new posts…

Before she could take in the photos, a brisk rap on the kitchen door had her snapping up her head. If Will and Eli were on the other side of the door, she’d nag them into helping her clean. Or Eli could make her a cup of coffee while she stacked the dishwasher and wiped down the counters.

Sutton yanked open the door, a wide smile on her face for her new friends. She’d miss them when she left. ‘Hey, bitches…’

Oh, shit. Sutton slapped her hand across her eyes, a fierce blush instantly heating her face. ‘Oh,hell, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for swearing. I didn’t mean to call you a bitch. I thought you were Eli and Will.’

‘That’s Chief Bitch to you, missy,’ Moira grinned and held out her fist to be bumped. Sutton rolled her eyes, tapped her fist against Moira’s and stepped back to let her in. Sutton inhaled her perfume, something deliciously lovely and stunningly expensive, and closed the kitchen door. Moira looked fantastic in black jeans tucked into low-heeled, knee-high leather boots and a scarlet thigh-length coat. A voluminous black and white scarf was tied in one of those fancy knots.

It’s going to be a frosty night,’ Moira told her, unwrapping her scarf and dumping it on the table by the back door.

Sutton looked down at her icing- and biscuit-dough-streaked shirt and sighed.Fabulous.

Sutton picked it up and hung it on the hook next to the kitchen door. Moira reached into her coat and pulled out a bunch of twigs with long, slender and deep green leaves.

‘Ta-da!’ Moira cried, grinning and thrusting the foliage at her.

Sutton looked at the unusual bouquet and raised her eyebrows. ‘Uh…thanks?’

‘I found some out on my walk earlier and got Ben to cut down buckets full of the stuff. He also cut some holly, and lots of ivy if you want some,’ Moira stated. ‘I’m hosting a cocktail party in the Green room, and I’m just going to use natural foliage as Christmas decorations.’

Sutton walked back into the kitchen. ‘That sounds nice,’ she said. She lifted the twigs. ‘Why am I holding a bunch of twigs, Moira?’

‘It’smistletoe, Sutt.’

Sutton flicked a leaf with her finger. ‘This is what everyone makes a big deal about kissing under? I’m disappointed.’

‘Have you never seen mistletoe before?’ Moira demanded, shocked.

‘I live in a hot country at the other end of the world, Moi, so no, mistletoe isn’t something we’re big on.’

‘So you’ve never been kissed under it?’

‘Again, no.’ Sutton grinned. ‘We Africans don’t need to find excuses to kiss, we just do it.’

‘Ha ha.’ Moira undid the buttons on her coat as she took in the messy kitchen.

‘I was making Christmas cookies with the twins.’ The explanation was unnecessary since the island was littered with baked, unbaked and iced biscuits.

‘You’ve made quite a few,’ Moira murmured.

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