Home for Christmas by Holly Chamberlin

Author:Holly Chamberlin [Chamberlin, Holly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2017-08-31T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

Everyone seemed to have enjoyed the swordfish Nell had made for dinner, even Molly, though Nell was loath to read anything into her daughter’s sudden return of appetite.

“Where were you this afternoon, Mom?” Felicity asked. “And don’t tell me you were buying more tinsel, because we have enough to last ten lifetimes.”

Nell shot a glance at Jill, who was studiously avoiding eye contact with her friend.

“I had some errands to run,” she said as she brought the coffeepot to the table.

“Guess what Mick brought around today?” Felicity asked Jill.

“Six geese a-laying?” Jill said.

“A dozen goose eggs. They take up way less room than actual geese!”

“Though they are a good deal larger than the average chicken egg. Does Mick’s family raise geese?” Jill asked Molly.

Molly shook her head. “No. He must have bought them from another farm.”

“A lot of farmers barter their produce,” Felicity pointed out. “Maybe Mick traded for the eggs. You should ask him, Molly.”

“Why?” Molly asked testily. “What does it matter?”

“And now for dessert,” Nell said quickly, hoping to avert the continuation of a conversation that was clearly approaching dangerous territory. She placed a dish in the middle of the table. “It’s Montelimar-style white nougat. It’s made with almonds, honey, vanilla, pistachios, brandy, and sugar.”

“It’s beautiful,” Jill commented. “It looks like a gorgeous outcropping of rock.”

“Less hard, I hope,” Molly said with the ghost of a smile. “We don’t have dental insurance.”

“I just remembered something,” Jill said. “When Stuart was little there was a bakery in South Berwick that sold gingerbread cookies with a paper image of Old Saint Nick pasted down on the icing. It was almost impossible to peel the paper completely off. You always wound up ingesting little shreds of Santa. One year Stuart couldn’t be bothered with trying to get the paper off, so he ate the whole thing.”

“Ugh,” Felicity cried. “Did he get sick?”

“No. I was a bit freaked when I realized what he’d done, but he seemed fine, so . . .” Jill shrugged. “Little kids are fairly indestructible when you think about it.”

“Christmas when Molly and Fliss were little was wonderful,” Nell said. “I only regret that—”

“Here we go,” Felicity interrupted with a laugh. “Mom’s going to moan about how she’s the only mother of everyone she knows who doesn’t have a picture of her kids on Santa’s lap!”

“I’ve got one,” Jill said. “It’s not a very good picture. The guy playing Santa had the most ludicrous looking fake beard I’d ever seen and Stuart was scared stiff of him. Today I’d probably get in trouble for endangering the welfare of a child by forcing him to sit on some stranger’s lap.” “So when are you going to Connecticut to see Stuart?” Felicity asked.

Jill shrugged. “He’s been radio silent about plans.”

“Maybe he’s really busy at work.”

“Stuart is never busy at work,” Jill said dryly. “It’s one of the reasons he keeps getting fired.”

“Well, he can’t have forgotten Christmas is only a few days from now,” Felicity pointed out. “It’s impossible to ignore the ads and the decorations and the music.

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