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CHAPTER 11

Merry Christmas, from two of Santa’s elves

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One hour, several gallonsof cocktails (and mocktails), and a cheese board later, Max paraded out of the kitchen with the biggest turkey anyone had ever seen. The bird weighed approximately three tons and was the perfect golden hue. He placed it at the edge of the counter where he artfully carved it, lining up the slices on a platter better than Martha Stewart. Evan came out a moment later with the ham, studded with cloves and smelling like a sweet and savory dream.

Ginny carried out several bowls of potatoes and vegetables, with Helen helping with the various cranberry sauces. Ginny tried to swat the older woman away. “Would you stop, Helen? You’re not on the clock.”

“Pfft, but I’m a party crasher. It’s the least I can do.”

Alice popped up and smacked a kiss on Helen’s cheek. “You’re not crashing, and Ginny’s right, you’re not on the clock. Unless you want to get me a ginger ale.” She winked and Helen sighed.

“I can’t wait to retire.”

Mona walked out of the kitchen with several baskets of CeCe’s freshly baked rolls. They were the size of softballs and glistened with their buttery glaze. “I’m sorry to hear you’re retiring, Helen. Hopefully you’ll have some time to join us at the community center for Pickleball. Harold and I are getting pretty good.”

Alice took the baskets from Mona and placed them at the end of the buffet. “Hush, Mona. I’m trying to talk Helen into delaying retirement.”

Helen grunted. “You need to let this go, kid.” Alice opened her mouth to argue, but Helen placed a finger over her lips. “Ho, ho, ho.” She winked and stomped off toward Trudy, who was gesturing her over with a bottle of wine she’d stolen from the bar.

The kids all lined up first, greedy expressions on their faces. “Can I have the wishbone?” Henry asked, leaning into Mona’s side. He knew where to get what he wanted; his grandmother was helpless to stop him.

“Hen, let’s get everyone served first.” Max was all business, ensuring everyone had plates. Evan assisted until Max shooed him away. “Go check on your wife, we’ve got this.”

Evan didn’t need to be told twice, side-stepping the line to get to CeCe’s booth. As he strode to the table, he beamed. “Babe, I’m so proud of you. You stayed put all afternoon.” He kissed her forehead and muttered some endearing words before catching her gaze.

“You know me,” CeCe said through clenched teeth. She leaned into the contraction, struggling to keep her tone even.

Misunderstanding her pain for annoyance at being kicked out of her own kitchen, Evan offered, “Can I make you a plate? You seem so comfortable here, I’d hate to move you.” He tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear, the look in his eyes nothing short of besotted.

CeCe made to sit up, turning so her feet hit the floor. Mallory joined them before she could stand, holding her hand out. “I’ve got this. What do you want?”

At first, CeCe protested, but Mallory shot her a look that stopped her objections. “Just a little of everything?”

Mallory nodded, but added, “Only the pregnancy-approved foods. Got it.”

“You’re the best, Mal.” Evan sat with CeCe and leaned down to kiss her belly. “This might be my favorite Christmas yet. Everyone’s all together, the diner is cozy, the snow is gorgeous, and the meal looks perfect.”

“Watch it, mister,” CeCe chided. “I only cooked a few things. It can’t possibly be perfect.” She frowned, and this time it was for more than unwanted contractions. CeCe reveled in any opportunity to be in the kitchen. Missing out on the final touches of this feast zapped what was left of her Christmas cheer.

The buffet line was under control, so Max grabbed a napkin and set of utensils for CeCe. Following Mallory, he handed it to his friend. “Easy, CeCe. I know you’re pregnant, but now you’re hurting my feelings.”

She raised an eyebrow at her boss. “Did you remember to put the Dijon mustard in the gravy?”

Max covered his heart with his hand. “Wow, it’s like you forgot I went to culinary school. Ouch.”

Mallory slid the plate over to CeCe, who immediately tucked in. Apparently being in labor did nothing to squash her appetite. “Thank you,” she said through a mouthful of roasted parsnips.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mallory muttered, walking away to find Beckett and Maybelle. There were a few things the little carrot top could eat, and she was eager to have some quality time with her favorite duo. Plus, she needed a distraction from a potential medical emergency happening on her watch. Keeping CeCe here went against everything she learned in school, yet she felt stuck.

“You’re sure she’s all right?” Beckett asked, mashing up a square of sweet potato on his plate before handing it to Maybelle.