How to Bake the Perfect Christmas Cake (Home for the Holidays - Book 2)

by Gina Henning

  I take a sip from my mug and pace in the kitchen. I don’t want to interrupt Jack’s conversation. I sigh, I wish I had my phone on me. I left it on my nightstand. I saunter over to my window and peek out.

  I have a perfect view of the garbage bins. It’s not like I enjoy checking out the trash, but I do like to see if there are any furniture items I might want to snag before Bob Dickerson gets his wheelin’ and dealin’ hands on them. I lift up one of the slats of my blinds. The bin area is empty. I shut it and turn around.

  “Ready for breakfast?” Jack is braced in the doorway. I almost want to giggle. He reminds me of a football player about to ask me on a date. Well, I guess technically he has asked me on a date, but he’s not a football player. Did Jack play sports in school?

  “Yes, let me grab my purse.” I slide past him and stride into my room to grab my purse and phone. There is so much I don’t know about Jack. Maybe I should have him fill out a questionnaire. I laugh. How awkward that would be? Oh hey, Jack, would you mind filling out a few questions about your background? I’m feeling uneasy about where this is going and my heart…so if you wouldn’t mind…then pass him a stack of papers. Ha!

  I stroll back into the living room. Jack is on the phone again. “Yes, Aunt Minnie, I’ll call you with an update soon…I promise. All right, love you too.” He swivels. Jack’s eyebrows raise.

  “Ready?” I raise my own eyebrows in return.

  “Yes, I’m starving.” Jack opens the door and I follow him. Jack is waiting at the landing for me. I smile. He offers me his hand and I take it. It’s firm and warm. We proceed down the stairs and make it to my car. I cup the door handle.

  “Let’s take my car.” Jack tugs me away from my car.

  “Okay, let me grab my garage remote.” I open the car door and take the remote control from my visor clip. I hit it once and the clatter of the garage door opening resounds through the garage. I follow Jack as we go to his car. It’s parked on the street in front of my town house. I remember it from last night when he was following me home, but even if I hadn’t seen it, I would know it’s his car, it’s a white egg-shaped car. It seems as if most standard rental cars are white egg-shaped vehicles.

  Jack clicks the remote and opens the passenger door for me, waiting until I am fully adjusted in the chair before he closes it. He slides into the seat next to me and starts the engine. There are several great brunch options within a five-mile radius of my house.

  “How did you sleep?” I know this is a dull question, but I feel like it’s my duty as a host to ask.

  Jack eyes me and nods. “Better than I have in weeks.”

  I laugh. “Really?” I squint my eyes. I did go for the slightly upgraded mattress, is this the cause of Jack’s peaceful rest?

  Jack rubs his thumb and finger over his jaw. “Yes, really. Lauren, you have a very comfortable guest bed. I might have to write you a review on Airbnb.”

  I roll my eyes then bob my head back and forth. “Alright, well that’s good to hear. Everyone can use a little extra cash over the holidays.” I wish I could take back the last sentence. I hope he doesn’t think I’m taking a shot at him about Vintage Estates.

  “True. But now that I think about it, I wouldn’t want Airbnb to be your means of extra earning potential.” Jack switches his turn signal and I notice we are headed south on Highway 83. My curiosity is further piqued as to which restaurant location he will choose. We are getting closer to the Waterfront cafes. If the windows were open, I’m sure we would get a waft of the ocean.

  Jack is driving down the streets like a local, if I didn’t know better I would have assumed he grew up here. Several turns and the car begins to slow down to a searching pace. Jack is on the hunt for street-side parking. I smirk at this. Parking on the street within steps of the harbor is a hit or miss on most days but a Saturday in December? The car jolts to a halt stop. Unbelievable. A person is backing out of a spot. And right in front of The Platters. Hmm…is this the place he had in mind? Platters is one of Brianna’s and my favorite brunch spots, especially when we are nursing hangovers. They have a Hang Me Over My Yammies Pancakes and Patties breakfast to cure any headache and weak stomach. I don’t know what they put in this dish, but it works. Every time. Jack steers the car into the too-small-for-me-to-park space with two adjustments. Impressive.

  “Come on, my little wild hare, a feast awaits us.” Jack’s eyes flash a wicked hunger.

  When I’m hungry I get like a sad Panda until I get some form of nourishment and my blood sugars start rising. I raise my eyebrows at him. “Okay, Hawk-eye.” I grab the car handle and step out onto the street. Brr. It is cold, even with my navy pea coat and white scarf. I’m freezing. Jack rushes around to my side of the car and wraps an arm over my shoulder.

  “I’m okay with the idea of Hawk-Eye…but I never really bonded with his character.” He is guiding us directly towards the entrance of The Platters. My stomach gurgles. The sounds of cars are loud enough to ensure Jack did not hear it.

  “Well I haven’t bonded with the idea of a wild hare…so I guess we are even?” I air quote the operative word.

  Jack laughs. “But, Lauren, you are my wild hare.” He leans down and kisses my head. Little tingles flow down my body like sand in an hourglass filling up the lower half and causing an eruption of emotion.

  I’m blaring ‘Fever’ in my internal sound system and flames are igniting everywhere, but Jack is steering us in through the doors. The smiling hostess feasts her eyes on Jack and I furrow my brows. Um hello, he’s obviously with a date.

  “Hi there, how many in your party?” She sticks the top of ballpoint pen in between her puckered lips.

  “Two, please.” Jack squeezes my hand.

  “Sure thing, right this way.” She motions come hither to us. We follow behind her as she navigates a straight path to the window overlooking the harbor. I’ll never get tired of seeing this. There are a few sailboats in the water and a brave kayaker. He appears to have on a full wetsuit, but still it’s got to be at least forty degrees outside and next to the water it’s always chillier. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to fall in.

  I slide into my chair and pick up the menu in front of me. I’m starving.

  “Two coffees, please.” Jack says to the hostess.

  “Anything for you, honey, I’ll send your waitress right over.” She stands in front of our table for a second too long.

  I roll my eyes at my menu.

  “What’s on your mind?” Jack cocks his head to the right.

  “Nothing but food.” Obviously I’m not going to mention Miss. Flirty-pants, this would only make me seem insecure, which I am not.

  “Me too. I read online they have creamy lemon ricotta pancakes.” Jack wiggles his eyebrows at me.

  I laugh and nod my head. “Sounds tasty, I think I’m going to go with my favorite Hang Me Over My Yammies and Patties.”

  “Do you have a hangover?” Jack’s eyebrows furrow.

  “No, do you?” I raise one eyebrow at him and purse my lips.

  “A couple of glasses of wine is not enough to give me one.” Jack reaches for my hand. “I do have a different type of hangover though.”

  The sides of my mouth pull up. “Oh really, what’s that?’

  “A Lauren hangover.” His eyes are flickering at me.

  “Hmm…Well, a hangover is usually a bad thing.”

  “It might be, but I don’t want a cure.” Jack pulls my hand to his mouth and kisses my knuckles.

  “Two coffees?” A curly redhead is holding two steaming cups in front of us.

  “Yes, please.” Rescued by coffee, that was a close one. “Could I have some cream, please?”

  “Sure, what can I get you for breakfast?” She grabs out a pen and takes down our order and trots away towards the back of the restaurant.

  “So what’s a typical day like here for you?” Jack pries into my eyes.

  “A typical Saturday?” I furrow my eyes. Surely Jack doesn’t wa
nt to hear about my weekend errands and blue moon excursions with Brianna.

  “Any day, I want to know more about you and your world.” Jack taps me underneath the table with his foot. I’m not sure if this is an attempt at footsies, an accident, or cue for me to spill my boring daily life with him.

  “Oh, well on Friday I was offered a huge promotion at work.” My shoulders rise and fall, thinking about the offer makes me a bit nervous but extremely proud. This is the biggest promotion I have ever received.

  “Wow, Lauren, congratulations! That’s great news. What does the new promotion entail?” Jack is grinning from ear to ear.

  “Well, I’m going to have my own team to manage and I get to select them myself, which is pretty cool.”

  The waitress returns with my cream and places it down next to me without a word, she must be one of those hands-off servers. “Thank you.” I manage to say as her back is turned to me. Oh well, I tried to be polite.

  “That’s fantastic. Do you have candidates lined up?” Jack takes a sip of his coffee.

  “I’ve got my eyes on a few people, but I don’t have to choose anyone until January.” I drizzle a few drops of cream into my cup and stir it with the silver spoon.

  Jack nods his head. “I’ve got my eyes on some new candidates as well.”

  “For the retirement home?” I squint my eyes.

  “No, it’s a special project I’m trying to get off the ground.” Jack raises his cup to me.

  “With your architecture firm?” Where is Jack going with this?

  “No, it’s more of a personal project, not exactly job related.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He glances at the face. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to take this. If the food arrives, please go ahead and begin.” He stands up and walks towards the exit. The door opens, but I’m sure they aren’t seating anyone on the deck due to the temperature.

  I pull out my own phone from my purse and tap on the display. As I figured, I’ve got several text messages. My phone was on vibrate since last night. I don’t like to sleep with the ringer on in case anyone decides to reach me in the wee hours of Saturday morning.

  The first text message is from Brianna: So…deets. Give me the scoop.

  Ten minutes after that is a second message: Seriously, are you still in bed?

  Five minutes later, a third message: Oh, I see…this is how you’re going to play this? Not cool. Take a mini-make-out break and run to the bathroom and call me.

  I text back: We are at breakfast, I’ll call you later.

  I text once more: Remember, patience is a virtue.

  Brianna texts back: So is decency, you shouldn’t make me wait. ;)

  I roll my eyes. As if Brianna would be dialing up my number while hanging out with Owen. The final message is from Megan.

  “Did you get your tickets yet?”

  Crap. I need to get them. I pull up my airfare app and search through the fares. My eyes can’t bulge out any further. The prices have literally doubled since the last time I checked. Arghh. I shake my head. I shouldn’t have put this off, what a mistake. I scan all of the airports near me in Baltimore and Austin to see if I can come up with some crazy combo flight to save a few hundred dollars. All the prices are the same. Well, that’s fabulous. I rummage through my purse and grab my faded leather wallet and take out my credit card. Gulp. Good thing I’m getting a promotion. I shut down the app after sending an email confirmation to myself.

  I type back to Megan: Yes, I fly in on the nineteenth. See you at the airport?

  My phone shakes in my hand. Megan has filled up the text box with every possible happy face emoticon, along with a wine glass, party hat with streamers, Santa, Frosty, and a Christmas tree.

  I grin as I type back with the plane emoticon and the two ballerina girls, this is the emoticon we use to represent ourselves. She immediately responds with a winking emoticon blowing a heart smooch.

  The waitress returns to the table with two steaming dishes in her hands. “All right, please be careful, these plates are hot.” She sets them down and walks away. I giggle to myself, thinking about the hot plates skit on SNL. Jack is pacing on the deck and waving his hand around back and forth. I know he said to go ahead and eat and I’m starving but I think it would be rude to begin without him. I pick up my coffee and take a sip.

  Who could he be talking to on a Saturday morning so furiously? I hope it’s not more bad news with Vintage Estates. He turns around and we make eye contact. I raise my eyebrows at him. He motions with his index finger in the air. Surely it won’t be longer than one more moment, I don’t think my stomach will make it. The cream in the coffee is barely enough to keep me from passing out. I glance back at the window and Jack is making his way towards me. I pat my tummy. Almost.

  “Don’t you just love it when you come back to the table and find your food waiting for you?” Jack winks at me.

  “I think you mean coming back from the bathroom, except in your case it would be the deck.” I raise my eyebrow to him. I can quote from Pulp Fiction any day of the week.

  “Yes, sorry about that.” Jack rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

  “Not more bad news?” I pick up my fork. I can’t wait any longer and these yammies are screaming my name and my stomach is quoting from Austin Powers.

  “Unfortunately, yes.” Jack scoops up a bite of his pancakes and take a bite.

  I’m on my fourth mouthful. I should slow down, I don’t want him to think I’m a pig. I place my fork down on my plate and pick up my coffee which is almost gone.

  “Remember how I said Sherry had taken out a loan against Vintage Estates?” Jack takes another bite of his fluffy pancakes.

  I nod my head.

  “Well, apparently the loan Sherry signed for has a balloon payment due by the 28th of this month.” He grabs his coffee and takes a sip. He eyes the waitress and motions for her to come to our table.

  “The food is great, but could we please have another round of coffee?” He points at our cups.

  “Sure thing.”

  “Okay, so you have to pay a large amount on the 28th or what?”

  “Or, the bank owns Vintage Estates.”

  My eyes practically drop on the floor. They are hurting from straining. “Are you serious?” I immediately wish I hadn’t said this as I know this is serious and Jack wouldn’t make this up.

  Jack nods and takes another bite of his pancakes. The waitress returns with a pitcher of coffee and fills up our cups. We both thank her.

  “What are you going to do? Do you have to leave?” My shoulders tense up.

  “No, I’ll leave tomorrow as planned. I have a few options. I’ll meet with the bank and my lawyer on Monday. Let’s not talk about it anymore. I just want to enjoy my time with you.” Jack reaches for my hand and brushes his thumb over it.

  “Okay, so other than that, how have things been?” I smile.

  “Things are really good right now. I’m sitting across the table from a gorgeous woman and I’m eating the best pancakes I’ve ever had.” Jack squeezes my hand.

  I inspect my almost empty plate and then beam back at Jack. “You’re quite the looker yourself, the hostess practically slipped in her drool.” I roll my eyes.

  Jack laughs and motions for the server.

  “More coffee?” She holds up a pitcher.

  “Not for me, but the check please.”

  She pats her apron and pulls out a white lined card. Jack reaches for his wallet and gives her his credit card.

  “I’ll be right back.” She turns and walks away.

  “Are you up for an adventure?” Jack flashes a grin at me.

  “An adventure?” I crinkle my eyebrows and inspect my feet. I am wearing my boots and not heels. “Yes, I have the proper footwear.”

  “Lauren, Lauren, Lauren, I told you don’t need proper footwear just a good partner.”

  The waitress returns with a small black folder and hands it to Jack. He opens it up and signs his name.
/>   “We’re not going dancing, are we?”

  “Maybe, I’m always up for dancing.” Jack winks at me and stands up. He takes my hand and we wander out of the restaurant.

  Chapter Four

  “Are you ready?” Jack’s eyes flicker like a child on Christmas morning. I inspect our location, he refused to tell me where we were headed. The sign in front of the parking lot reads “Calandrino Christmas Tree Farm”.

  “I’m ready, but for what?” I wrinkle my eyebrows at him.

  “For our adventure in finding you a Christmas tree, I noticed your house was missing one.” Jack takes the key out of the ignition.

  “You want to chop down a tree for my house?” I know I must sound like a dunce, but I’m trying to figure out exactly what Jack is wanting to do.

  “Bingo! Smart and pretty, you’re the whole package, Lauren.” He taps my nose.

  I stick my tongue out at him. He leans in and pulls my chin up and our lips meet. He kisses me softly and then hops out of the car. I grab my purse from the floor and Jack is already at my door. He opens it and I step out. The gravel crunches underneath my boot.

  In front of us is a large wooden building with a white sign attached above the doorway with the farm’s name. There are several green and blue colored tractors and wagons lined up outside of the store. Jack leads us to the painted red door and opens it.

  Inside the building is a winter wonderland of activity. There is a train circling on a shelf running along the tops of the walls, large candy canes hang from the ceiling, at least twenty different decorated Christmas trees are scattered throughout the place. In the back of the store is what appears to be a cookie shop with a sign reading “Decorate Your Own Cookie”, next to the cookie station is a hot cocoa motion machine. I blink my eyes several times, this place is like stimulation overload.

  I can’t even imagine my niece and nephew Winter and River being in here, they would probably faint out of pure excitement.

  Jack navigates our way through all of the displays and finds the register being operated by a teenager dressed as an elf. Behind him is a sign listing the types of trees and prices along with tree transportation options.