She pushed open the kitchen doors but stopped short when she saw that the morning meal prep had started without her. Close to a dozen elves bustled about the spacious kitchen, trays in hand. They worked industrially to set out breakfast plates on the low counter. This set up would allow a line of elves to easily pass through the kitchen. Impressed by what she saw, Kris silently watched for several moments before she grabbed an apron from a hook on the wall and tied it around her waist.
But as she neared the counter she saw that something was wrong. Very wrong. She picked up a tray and examined the food under the clear plastic wrap. It wasn’t what she’d planned the night before. She set the tray down and checked a few more. They were all the same. Doughnuts? With sprinkles?
Kris cast her eyes around the kitchen until she found Merri. She hurried over to the elf’s side.
“Morning, Kris,” Merri greeted her. “Hot coffee’s on the stove. Help yourself.”
“Maybe later, thanks. Listen, Merri, this isn’t the meal I planned for this morning. What happened to my instructions?” She followed as the elf headed toward the walk-in refrigerator. “I prepped the fruit last night but I don’t see it on the trays.”
Merri shrugged. “I don’t know anything about fruit.”
“Didn’t you see my instructions on the board?”
Merri nodded. “Saw them and followed them.” She gazed up at the third shelf. “Can you please reach that tub of pink frosting?”
Kris pulled it down and handed it to her. “What’s this for?”
“Cupcakes, today’s mid-morning snack.”
Cupcakes at eleven in the morning when doughnuts were being served for breakfast? Talk about a sugar tsunami. “Whose idea was that?”
Merri’s brow creased. “Your orders, Kris. We just follow them.” She led the way back to the heart of the kitchen. “Do you have a moment to frost these?”
Kris nodded absently. “In a minute. Let me check something first.” She walked briskly over to the cork board that she’d set up the day before. Her eyes scanned the day’s menu. It wasn’t hers; she’d never have put a month’s worth of sugar and fat into one day. What on earth was going on? She stood on her tip toes and peered at the small black initials at the bottom of the menu. KM. Kyle Masterson.
Kris reached up and ripped the menu off the board. She crumpled the paper in her hand. Not on her watch.
Her first instinct was to hunt down her ex-partner and have a good old fashioned showdown, but her professional chef self knew that breakfast needed to come first. She glanced up at the clock. The first stream of hungry elves would start trickling in within ten to fifteen minutes. Which meant it was too late to completely scrap breakfast but perhaps she could modify it.
“Listen up, gang,” she called from the middle of the kitchen. “We need to get some fruit on each tray. We have fresh green grapes and some cherries. I’d like to put a serving of either one on every tray but I’m going to need some help.”
Silence.
“Please.”
Apparently that wasn’t the magic word. The kitchen staff simply stood and stared at her. Kris threw her hands up. “What? Why isn’t anyone moving?”
Merri was the first to speak. “Um, fruit for breakfast? Really, Kris? That seems a bit harsh.”
“Harsh? What are you talking about?”
The elf looked around to the others as if to get a read on the group’s consensus. The heads nodding in approval must have reassured her that she spoke for them all. Merri’s voice rose just a bit. “We didn’t do anything wrong that we deserve this sort of cruel and unusual punishment.”
Kris was so stunned that for a moment she couldn’t speak. But the ticking clock on the wall reminded her that she didn’t have all day to make her case. “There’s obviously been a huge misunderstanding. I’m offering fruit because it’s an essential part of a healthy, balanced diet. It’s fuel for your bodies, good clean burning fuel.”
“We can fill up our little tanks with sugar just as easily as fruit,” an elf from the back of the room called. Her words elicited cheers.
“But, fruit has sugar in it.” Kris heard the desperation in her voice. “Its natural sugar, of course, but it’s still sweet.” No response. This was unbelievable. “Can we at least try a few grapes on each tray?”
“Mr. Masterson didn’t say anything about us having to eat fruit.”
Kris couldn’t remember the name of the elf who spoke but she remembered seeing her last night in Santa’s office. She’d been only one of several that had dreamy expressions as they’d stared at Kyle. “Kyle is well aware that serving fruit in the morning is a great way to start the day.”
“Prove it.”
In all of the years Kris had lived at the North Pole, she’d never encountered such resistance from any elf over, well, anything. A rational part of her brain told her to just table the fruit for now. The wise thing to do would be to draw back and come up with a strategy for introducing healthier eating. But another part of her knew this was just ridiculous. She was asking them to eat fruit, not rocks.
“Okay, I will.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out her cellphone. She dialed Kyle’s number and while it was ringing she hit speakerphone.
“Hello gorgeous.”
A traitorous part of Kris’ mind delighted at hearing Kyle’s warm, seductive voice but she strove to keep her voice normal. “Hello Kyle. It’s Kris.”
He laughed. “I know. That’s why I didn’t say ‘Hello Stranger’.”
More than a few elves giggled.
Kris motioned for them to be quiet. “You’re on speakerphone, Kyle. I wanted you to back me up on something.”
“Always.”
He sounded so sincere that Kris felt a tiny bit of her frostiness toward him thaw. “We’re getting ready to serve breakfast but Merri and the other elves need a bit of convincing that eating fruit is a healthy way to start the day. Don’t you agree that fruit in morning is a great idea?”
“Of course, it is. I absolutely agree.”
“Thank you. I wanted to add some cherries and grapes to this morning’s meal.” She left unsaid that she didn’t consider doughnuts a proper meal. That conversation could wait for a private moment.
“Both are good choices.” Kyle’s voice resonated through the quiet kitchen. “We could also go with strawberries dipped in milk chocolate, blueberry pancakes with maple syrup, pineapple upside down cake-”
Kris rushed to cut him off with a hasty thank you. When she slipped her cell back in her apron pocket she wasn’t convinced that he’d actually done much to help her case. At least not judging by the amused expressions her kitchen staff wore. “Let’s see if we can get the fruit added to this morning’s breakfast,” she announced.
“Too late.” Merri pointed to the clock. “In about thirty seconds we’re about to face a hungry mob.”
Mob wasn’t exactly the word Kris would have chosen but as she helped pour glasses of milk for the early morning shift, she could see why Merri had used that word. There was a certain frantic energy to the morning’s meal. As she made small talk with the diners, a part of her brain was already working up nutritionally optimized meal plans. She could imagine the positive affect that a healthy breakfast would have on the elves’ collective health.
All she had to do was sell them the idea. She had no compunction about drawing Kyle into her plans either.
* * *
Kyle looked at the assorted sets of pots and pans spread out over the table. He picked a sauté pan up to judge its weight. “Wonderful, this is the set I think Kris will like the most.”
An elf named Tinsel tapped a note into his tablet with a silver stylus. “Excellent choice, Mr. Masterson.”
“Call me Kyle.” He’d spent nearly an hour with Tinsel going over possible Christmas gifts for Kris and Noelle. Noelle had been easy to shop for; like most six year old girls she had a wide range of interests that made gift-giving a snap. Kris was not so easy. He said so to Tinsel.<
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“Did you and Kris exchange gifts last Christmas?” Tinsel asked.
Kyle nodded. “We did indeed.”
“May I ask what you gave her?”
“An engagement ring.”
“Did she like it?”
“She gave it back.”
Tinsel winced. “Ouch.”
“Exactly. So you can see why I’d like to go with something a little more practical this year. I doubt she’ll return anything culinary related.”
“No, not our Kris. She’s always been a practical girl.”
Kyle looked at the elf with renewed interest. “You’ve known Kris for a long time then?”
“Oh, for ages. Since she was younger than Noelle.” Tinsel gave the order to a nearby elf for the set Kyle had chosen to be giftwrapped before he turned back to Kyle. “What would you like to know about her?”
Kyle laughed. “Well, since you don’t have a crystal ball, I doubt you can help predict what she’ll do in the future. But I’d love to know more about what she was like when she lived here. Before she came down below, I mean, before I met her.”
“The information will cost you a cup of hot cocoa.”
“A price I’m more than willing to pay. Lead on.” This was the first chance he’d ever had to talk to anyone who knew Kris better than he did.
Once they were settled in comfortable chairs in the elf lounge, Kyle knew what his first question for Tinsel would be. “Has Kris always been independent?”
“Fiercely so.” Tinsel bit off the arm of a gingerbread man and washed it down with a swig of cocoa. “No big story as to how she got that way. Kris had the same happy, loving childhood that Carol and Nick did.” He shrugged. “She just always had the need to prove herself.”
“Does that stem from insecurity?” Kyle knew Kris would have a fit if she heard him discussing her like this but it was only because he cared. Deeply. He loved her. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, and with Noelle. But he had to find a way through the wall she’d built around her heart since she found out that he’d been less than honest with her. “Was she always competitive?”
Tinsel grinned. “Only if she was losing, otherwise I wouldn’t necessarily use the word competitive.”
Kyle laughed again. He found the elves delightful. It was easy to understand why Kris wanted to bring Noelle back to the North Pole to live. He knew he could happily stay here forever. The only flaw in the plan was that Kris was counting the days until he left.
Chapter Six
Much to his frustration, Kyle spent the next ten days on thin ice. He tip toed around Kris as they worked together in the kitchen. It bothered him that she was so skittish around him. Downright disheartening is what it was. But every once in a while, when she didn’t think he was looking, he’d catch her watching him. Was he imagining that she looked forlorn? Possibly. Hopefully. The thought that Kris missed him as much as he missed her was enough to keep him going.
“Kyle, should I help you or should I help my mom?”
Kyle looked up from the bread dough he was kneading. “Tough call, Noelle. Why don’t you choose?” He glanced over at Kris. She stood at the sink with her back to them but he knew she was within hearing distance. He looked back at Kris’ daughter. Noelle’s face radiated happiness but her eyes were serious.
“I could help mom slice the radishes. But it’s always more fun to get my hands in the dough.”
He grinned. “I completely agree.”
Noelle leaned in closer and, her voice a stage whisper, said, “My mom’s been a bit grumpy lately-”
“I heard that,” Kris admonished her daughter. The fact that her voice held a hint of levity, and that she neither turned around nor bothered to stop draining lettuce leaves, gave Kyle hope that she might be thawing.
Kyle winked at Noelle.
“I think I’ll help you if you don’t mind.”
“Super. It’ll be just like old times, the three of us working together.” He wiped his hands on his apron and grabbed another handful of dough which he spread on the table top next to where he was working. “Bring a stool over and then go wash your hands again.”
“Yes, Sir, Chef Sir.”
He watched Noelle scamper off to do as he bid. She was a great kid. From the first time Kris had mentioned to him that she was considering becoming a foster parent, he’d thought the idea was wonderful. But little had he been prepared for how attached to Noelle he’d become. It was as if Kris and Noelle had marched into his heart and taken up residence. Permanent residence, if it were up to him. He sighed.
“I know it’s overwhelming to plan a party on top of all of the regular meals,” Kris said, obviously mistaking the reason for his sigh. “But when my aunt asked, what could I say?”
“You did the right thing, Kris. We can do this.” Kyle stopped himself from reminding her that they made a fantastic team. But she should already know that. He punched the dough.
“Kyle, there’s something I want to ask you.” Her voice was serious.
“Give me a sec.” He set the dough into a bowl, covered it with a wet towel, and washed his hands. He then pulled out a stool and sat where he could see her face clearly. She looked tentative. Vulnerable. Her guard was down. He hadn’t seen this side of her in a long while. Finally, a reason to take heart. “What’s on your mind?”
“It’s about the restaurant.”
“You mean our restaurant?”
She nodded. “I want you to know that I’m sorry I left so abruptly without staying to finalize the details of closing it. I should have stuck around to help.”
“So why didn’t you?” Kyle leaned his elbows on the kitchen work counter, his forearms crossed, his eyes fixed on Kris’ face.
Just as he imagined, she didn’t answer right away. But he could wait.
“I panicked.” Her eyes beseeched him to understand. “Ever since you told me about, well, you know, I couldn’t get back on even footing.”
“We could have talked it out.” Heck, he thought they had talked it out. Talked it near half to death, but Kris refused to see his side of things, or even compromise the tiniest bit. But maybe that was what she was attempting to do now.
“I know. I’m sorry, Kyle. That’s what I’m trying to say.” She set her paring knife aside. “I should have stayed until everything was squared away.”
Squared away. He didn’t like the sound of that.
She didn’t take her eyes from his. “You know, we had a contract. My name was on it. I had a responsibility to be there while we officially closed, cleaned up, and cleared out.”
Slowly so as not to spook her, Kyle stood and came around the island counter. It pleased him endlessly that Kris didn’t move away. He leaned against the counter, attempting to look casual although he felt anything but. “Do you miss it?”
Kris nodded. “Very much.”
“Me too.” Kyle longed to reach out and caress her cheek but he resisted the urge. There was no sense in doing something stupid when they were finally making progress. “What do you miss the most?”
A hint of a smile tugged at her lips. “I miss the quiet lull in the morning between the breakfast crowd and our lunch regulars. The hustle and bustle is a fun way to start the morning but I love the breather in between, you know?”
Kyle nodded. “I do.” He watched as she stared down at her hands. Something was weighing on her mind. “What’s the frown for?”
“Mr. Gradkowski.”
“What about him?”
Kris tucked her hands in her apron pockets. “When I think about him, I feel so guilty. What do you suppose he’s doing for breakfast now?”
“Don’t worry another minute, Kris. I’ve set the old gentleman up at Mickey’s Diner on 42nd Street and Main.”
A relieved expression replaced her frown. “You set him up how?”
Kyle started to answer but caught himself in time. Talking about money with Kris was like tap dancing on quicksand, it was precarious at best.
“Kyle, what did you do?”
He thought for a moment before he came up with just the wording he wanted. “I took it upon myself to assist Mr. Gradkowski in his transition to a new eatery.”
Kris laughed, which sent a flaming arrow of hope straight to his heart. This was how it used to be between them. How it was supposed to be.
She leaned against the counter, mirroring his stance. “I’d love to hear more.”
“Well, as you might well imagine, the hardest part was convincing him that there were other places in the city where he could get a fried egg, a slice of bacon, rye toast and black coffee.”
“Oh, that must have been rough. But you did it.”
“I did. I personally escorted Mr. G to four different eateries so that he could select his new morning haunt. He was like Goldilocks. The bacon was too salty, not salty enough, the coffee was too strong, and then not strong enough. But in the end he decided that he could tolerate Mickey’s.” He leaned in a bit closer, close enough that he could smell the delicate rose water perfume she always wore. “I felt triumphant once he agreed that he’d found just the right place.”
Kris lifted an eyebrow. “Explain how you ‘set him up’. Weren’t those your words?”
Here Kyle knew he had to tread carefully. “I spoke to the manager at Mickey’s about the way their newest patron liked his breakfast prepared.”
“And?”
The woman was relentless. He knew she had guessed the rest of it but it was so like her to force him to say it. But if they had a snowball’s chance of getting back together they were going to have to work through this eventually. “And I paid for his meals for the next year, which,” he held up a hand, “I hasten to point out, is not a crime.”
She turned back to the radishes. “Not technically, no.”
Kyle decided to push the envelope. “You know, Kris, there are some women who don’t feel threatened because a man they care for has money.”
The Return of Kris Kringle: A Christmas Romantic Comedy Page 4