How to Host a Holiday (The Prequel to Ivy Stratton & the Time Machine)

by Kathleen Kitson

  “The power’s been out here for almost 20 minutes,” I tell them.

  “Yeah, we noticed,” says G. “For about the last mile, the traffic signals were just blinking.”

  “Oh no, I hadn’t even thought about that. I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “There’s not a lot of traffic, but it’s tough to navigate the roads like this,” Giuseppe says.

  “But Giuseppe did a fantastic job of getting us here safely,” says Evangeline in a crisp, clipped, British accent, and she snuggles deeper into the crook of his arm and smiling up at him.

  Giuseppe beams. Compliments are his fuel.

  I turn around and lift the tea candle above my head in the hopes that it will disperse the light a bit better.

  “Be careful coming up the stairs,” I tell them, marching toward my door.

  As soon as I reach the landing at the top of the stairs, my front door swings open, and Cooper is at the threshold. “The power company’s phone lines are flooded, but Mindy finally got a recording that says they are sending crews out and working to restore power in the next 24 hours.”

  “24 hours?” I step inside, with Giuseppe and Evangeline right behind me. The apartment has shifted from still and contemplative to bustling since I went downstairs, and there seems to be an abundance of nervous energy in the room. Sy is holding one of the babies, quietly singing a lullaby, and Grant and M3 are putting on coats and gloves. Mindy and Stella are on their knees, dismantling the candle display in my fireplace, but I ignore this puzzling sight for the moment.

  “Everyone, this is Giuseppe and Evangeline,” I announce.

  There is a brief pause in the action, and a round of hellos from everyone in the room.

  Cooper steps into the stairwell with a flashlight in his hand, and Grant and M3 follow him down the stairs.

  “We have some wood for the fireplace in the backyard,” Mindy says. “It’s getting chilly in here, so we thought it might be a good idea to start a fire.”

  “Good idea,” I say, then turn to Giuseppe and Evangeline. “Dinner isn’t quite ready yet, but make yourselves comfortable. Can I take your coats?”

  “Sure,” says G peeling off his wool overcoat and handing it to me.

  Evangeline, however, shakes her head, pulling her coat closer to her body. “I’m actually a little cold, so I’ll just hang on to it for now,” she says.

  Stella stands up with armful of garland. “Ivy, I’m going to put these in your room,” she says.

  “And I’ll put this coat away. Let me get some light,” I say as I grab a vase with a candle inside and head back to my room.

  “What’s going on out there?” Stella asks as she places the garland in a chair.

  I shrug and hang up G’s coat. “He brought a date. I can’t even believe it. I’m definitely the TFGG.”

  “Classic Giuseppe,” she says in a matter of fact tone. “But are you okay?”

  “No, but I will pretend I am.”

  “Good. Because it looks like no one’s going anywhere for a while.”

  I sigh deeply. Stella’s right. I guess there won’t be any chance for romance between me and Giuseppe this Christmas. And in a way, I’m ok with that. At least, that’s what I’m going to tell myself to make it through the rest of this party.

  “And we should probably figure out something with dinner,” Stella says, bringing my attention to the task at hand. “Should we check the turkey?”

  “Sure.”

  In the kitchen, we pull the turkey from the rapidly cooling oven and find that parts of the bird are still pink. Very pink.

  So much for my beautiful bird. I try not to cry.

  Mindy, who has joined us and brought along several more candles, peers into the roasting pan and shakes her head. “No way. Too risky. I don’t think anyone will be disappointed with side dishes by candlelight.”

  “Rest in peace, turkey,” Stella says solemnly.

  I laugh in agreement. Then, an idea strikes.

  “Ladies…I do believe we have another option.”

  EIGHT

  Half an hour later, I’m bending over the fireplace, and M3 is helping me transfer sizzling slices of Grant’s ham to a large serving platter.

  When we decided to serve the ham, M3 (who, it turns out, is something of an expert camper) helped us come up with a way to warm the meat in a cast iron skillet in the fireplace. Even though things are not going as planned, inside I feel a surge of calm and triumph.

  Working together, my guests and I have taken lemons and made lemonade. As a result, I feel a fleeting connection to the pioneers who also cooked their meals in a roaring fireplace. Little House on the Prairie, make way for Little Apartment in the STL.

  I follow M3 to the table as he places the platter in the center of the table and take my seat--across from M3 and next to Giuseppe, who is sitting across from Evangeline.

  In the midst of the hubbub of dinner preparations, I discreetly pulled another chair to the table and added a place card for Evangeline next to M3 without anyone noticing that I was doing a bit of a seating shuffle.

  And even though I’m sitting right next to G, I could be in another world for all he cares, because he’s too busy looking across the table at Evangeline to notice anyone else.

  To her credit, she’s a very nice person, and I can see why he’s mesmerized by her. While the men worked to build the fire, Evangeline ventured into the kitchen to help with the final moments of dinner preparations. Volunteering to toss the salad, she finally removed her pristine white coat to reveal a brilliant blue bandage dress, which I’m sure is a real Herve Leger. She shivered the entire time, but then again, so did Stella, Mindy and I.

  The fire has put everyone in a more relaxed mood, and now, as I’m looking around the table, I’m thankful for friends who can take things like an unexpected power outage in stride. Even though ice continues to rain down outside, we are now cozy and enjoying a bountiful (if not piping hot) meal in good company.

  Even Evangeline fits right in, as she entertains us all with funny anecdotes from her childhood and teenage years. Over the course of the meal we learn that she’s the daughter of one of Giuseppe’s mother’s sorority sisters.

  Evangeline and Giuseppe have only met once before, when he was eight years old and he and his family spent the summer vacationing in Greece with Evangeline’s family.

  Though she attended boarding school and college (or, “University,” as she refers to it) in London, she is now in the States to continue her education and earn her PhD in some form of technical science.

  And, on top of all that, she’s absolutely beautiful. Her long golden hair, accentuated with naturally warm olive skin and wide, deep, blue eyes make her look more like an actress or a model, and I have a hard time imagining her holed up in a laboratory, poring over complicated mathematical formulas.

  At one point during dinner, Sy stands up, getting everyone’s attention. “I know it’s not Thanksgiving, but I am really thankful to be here with you all, instead of back in my condo all by myself tonight.”

  “Same here,” says Grant.

  “I feel the same way,” adds M3. “Thanks so much for hosting this, Ivy. Today has been a welcome distraction from so many things that I’ve been dealing with.”

  Evangeline nods vigorously. “I’ve only been in town for a few weeks, and haven’t met many new people yet, and I’ve been terribly homesick for my friends in London. Last night I really didn’t feel like getting dressed up to go to his family’s dinner,” she says, gesturing toward Giuseppe. “In fact, I wanted to sit at home in my pajamas and eat ice dream. But, my very persistent mother kept calling me and telling me I absolutely must get out of my apartment, so I dragged myself out of the house and went.

  Then, I reconnected with Giuseppe, and he absolutely insisted that I come here tonight. And I said yes, because I really didn’t relish the idea of being home alone again. But I didn’t really know what to expect, barging in on a group of good friends in the middle of a
small party.

  So, from the bottom of my heart, I want to thank you, Ivy, and everyone else here for making me feel so welcome. You are a fantastic group of people. And this ham is absolutely delicious.”

  “Hear, hear,” says Giuseppe, clapping loudly. “I couldn’t have said it better myself. Let’s hear it for Ivy and this delicious ham!”

  I decide to ignore the fact that suddenly G likes ham since Evangeline likes it too. Everyone at the table joins Giuseppe in clapping, and I suddenly feel on the spot. Before I know what’s happening, I find myself blinking back tears. I dab at the corners of my eyes with the napkin and take a few sips of cold water to keep a full on breakdown at bay.

  When the clapping subsides, I finally feel able to speak without starting to cry.

  “I honestly am so happy that all of you ventured out of your houses in a storm, because if it weren’t for any of you, I would be all alone for Christmas too. So thank you for coming.”

  At that moment, my little speech is interrupted by one of the twins, who was probably awakened by the loud clapping. Mindy excuses herself to rock him back to sleep, and the topic of conversation shifts back to the weather.

  After dinner, the guys volunteer to do the dishes--in icy water, since the water heater runs on electricity. Since there is no light in the kitchen, I can’t vouch for exactly how clean the dishes are, but I’m thankful for the chance to finally sit and relax.

  While the dishes are being washed, Stella, Mindy, Evangeline and I take turns cuddling the twins, while chatting in the living room.

  After the guys join us, we all pull out our phones and tablets and share news from the outside world. The good news is that the storm is expected to taper off around midnight, but it’s unclear when the road crews will be able to clear the roads.

  Between doppler reports, Internet updates, and text messages, the next hour passes in a flurry of information sharing.

  Finally, G ventures out to his car and returns with his laptop and a spare battery.

  “Okay, everyone,” G says. “Put all of your screens away; we are going to relax and stop worrying about the weather.”

  “So what are we going to do instead?” asks Stella.

  “We,” says Giuseppe, “are going to watch Ivy’s favorite Christmas movie.”

  “And what movie might that be?” asks Evangeline.

  “White Christmas,” Giuseppe says, setting up his computer on the coffee table at an angle where everyone will be able to watch.

  “Ah, a classic,” says Grant. “I remember watching this as a kid.”

  “Well, it sounds lovely; I’m excited to see it,” says Evangeline.

  “This sounds amazing, and I hate to cut the party short,” says, Mindy, “But I probably need to feed my kiddos and put them to bed for the night.”

  “Yeah, I think we’re going to go home,” says Cooper.

  “With the roads like this?” asks Evangeline.

  “Oh, we’re not going anywhere. We live right downstairs,” Mindy says.

  “You know, you guys are welcome to stay the rest of the night,” I tell them. “I’m sure it’s warmer up here than it is downstairs. You and the twins can have my room.”

  Mindy looks at Cooper. “You know, she’s right. It may be too cold down there for the babies.”

  “Then it’s settled,” I tell her. “And no one else is leaving tonight either. We can just find some way to hunker down for the night and we’ll see what happens tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Ivy,” says Mindy. “But I have to get out of these party clothes; it’s just too cold to keep up with the pretense of a dress and heels.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing!” Stella exclaims. “Could I borrow a sweater, Ivy?”

  “Of course you can! I should have offered earlier.”

  Stella and Evangeline both raid my closet and we all get outfitted in sweatshirts, sweaters, yoga pants and thick socks. And after we change into warmer attire, Cooper loans the guys sweaters from his wardrobe as well.

  Mindy and I also pillage our linen closets, and all of the blankets we own are now in my living room. By the time we all gather back in my living room and settle in again, Sy and Grant serve slices of pecan pie to everyone, while M3 brews cowboy coffee over the fireplace.

  The breakdown of couples quickly becomes apparent as everyone sits down. Mindy, Cooper, Stella and Grant take up residence on my large couch, and Sy takes his seat on the plush recliner.

  The loveseat will hold 2 or 3 more people, and M3 is already sitting there, so I grab a couple of pillows and arrange them on the floor where the two couches meet, which gives me a place to lean against the frame of the couch.

  It’s a cozy little nook, and I’m ready to relax and watch the movie, but Giuseppe, who is at the fireplace with Evangeline pouring cups of coffee for the two of them glances over and notices me.

  “Ivy, why don’t you sit on the couch? There’s plenty of room.”

  Everyone in the room then turns to look at me.

  Sitting all by my lonesome.

  On the floor.

  Instantly, they all chime in, agreeing with Giuseppe.

  I shake my head and protest weakly. “No, really, I’m fine. You two can sit on the couch,” I say, gesturing to G and Evangeline.

  Giuseppe shakes his head. “No, I insist. There’s no reason three people should try to squeeze on the loveseat. We’ll sit on the floor, and you can sit there with…” he pauses, and I realize he’s probably forgotten M3’s name.

  “Milton,” I answer, filling in the blank.

  Giuseppe snaps his fingers. “Milton!” He looks at M3. “Sorry, I spaced out for a minute. But once I remember a name, I won’t forget it.”

  “No worries,” says M3. “It’s been a whirlwind of a day.” Then he pats the space next to him on the loveseat and looks at me.

  M3’s invitation brings on another round of concurrent echoes from the rest of the party goers. Even Sy is pushing me to sit on the loveseat.

  I succumb to the peer pressure and settle in next to M3.

  Giuseppe and Evangeline get cozy in the seat I just vacated and we finally start the movie. As the opening credits begin, I do my best to focus on the screen, instead of staring at Evangeline curled up next to Giuseppe in my cozy spot on the floor.

  A few minutes into the movie, M3 casually throws his arm over the back of the sofa. We’re not sitting quite close enough to each other for his arm to technically be around me, but I’m just not feeling any type of love connection--no matter how badly Sy wants it to happen.

  I mean, he’s a great boss and all, but I have to draw the line at him choosing who I should date.

  The thundering sound of metal scraping against the pavement gives me an excuse to hop up and head to the window.

  The yellow flashing lights of a snowplow is a comforting sight in the darkness that has settled over the neighborhood. If the road cleaning crews are able to get out and do their job, it shouldn’t be too long before the power gets restored.

  M3 joins me at the window, pulling the curtains back even further as he peers out into the darkness.

  “First road crews are out. That’s a good sign,” he says.

  I nod in agreement and keep looking out the window. My inner alarm system has kicked in, alerting me to the possibility that M3 is well aware of Sy’s plan to set us up. And I get the feeling he’s not exactly opposed to the idea.

  Feeling a little claustrophobic, I sneak a side glance at M3 and wonder why I’m not more interested. He’s got all of the qualities any woman seriously looking for a husband can appreciate.

  He’s handsome, smart, successful, and single. And that uncanny resemblance to Cary Grant is almost unnerving. Milton Boyd III is quite a catch. And he’s standing in my living room, at least somewhat interested in me.

  So why am I not flirting with him nonstop?

  The sound of G laughing at the movie interrupts my thoughts and answers my question all at once.

&nbs
p; Because I love Giuseppe.

  I turn and look at G leaning close to Evangeline, explaining some part of the plot to her, and it makes my stomach hurt.

  “We should probably get back to the movie,” I mumble to M3 and make my way back to the couch. I sit as close to the arm as possible, hoping M3 takes the hint and sticks to his side of the couch.

  He doesn’t, and instead sits close enough to me that when he throws his arm over the back of the seat, he actually does have his arm around me.

  I decide any further resistance would be futile in such close quarters, and I allow myself to just relax.

  The combination of nonstop hostess duties, the rich meal, and the warmth of the fireplace in the chilly room have gotten the best of me and I don’t even try to fight the heaviness in my eyelids.

  When I wake up, it’s just in time for the finale scene when the entire cast is singing “White Christmas” as snow falls in the background.

  I’m also leaning against M3’s chest. And Giuseppe is staring right at me.

  Our eyes lock and in that moment, I allow myself to ignore everyone else in the room.

  This moment is reminiscent of how things felt between us when we first dated, and it’s what I’ve been searching for ever since.

  And now I know Giuseppe feels it too. I’m excited and terrified at the same time.

  Giuseppe breaks our gaze first, turning away to stop the DVD.

  “Well that was fun,” he says.

  “Yeah, it reminds me of high school when Ivy used to make us watch this every year at her birthday party,” says Stella. “Now I watch it at least once a year.”

  “It’s tradition,” says Giuseppe. “Why do you think I brought it over?”

  “I didn’t even know you owned it,” I say.

  He shrugs. “I saw it on sale a few weeks ago. I was going to save it for July, but I had a feeling it might come in handy tonight.”

  “July?” asks Evangeline.

  “Ivy’s birthday is July 25,” Giuseppe explains. “And every year she has a Christmas in July party for her birthday.”

  “That sounds fabulous,” says Evangeline. “How very creative.”