Crying? Drinking? Cops? It must be Chrismukkah!
Kirsten looked again at the recipe in front of her, a perplexed frown clouding her face. It was times like this she missed her mother most keenly. Caleb Nichol's wife had not only been the queen of the Newpsies in her time but she had also been a much more proficient cook than Kirsten would ever be. As a child Kirsten had been too interested in pool parties and the other distractions of the Newport social scene to waste any time learning baking skills. Besides, by the time Kirsten had reached the age of ten her mother was already well on the way to full blown alcoholism and the delicious smells Kirsten always associated with her younger life had ceased to feature. As she headed off to the computer to google "rub fat into flour" Kirsten wondered if her mother's battle with alcohol lay at the root of her dislike for all things culinary. Then again, maybe she just naturally sucked where food preparation was concerned. She had improved though. At least she thought she had. Sandy and the boys had at least stopped exchanging concerned looks with each other anytime she announced she was preparing dinner and as long as she stuck to plain fare or Chinese food they seemed happy, and, she might add, well fed.
Finding the information she needed Kirsten headed back to the kitchen and wished briefly that Taylor was home to hold her hand through the pie making process. Before leaving for France in the summer she had treated them all to a dazzling array of pies and tortes, created and baked to perfection. Nothing Kirsten made today was going to match one of Taylor's creations but she was determined to give it a try, pastry-making being the last great baking mountain she had to climb.
"Hey!"
Kirsten raised her head and smiled delightedly as Ryan pushed open the swing door, laden with store bags and a large, over packed backpack.
"Ryan! We weren't expecting you till tonight, what a lovely surprise. Come on in, honey. I would give you a hug but.."
She gestured to her hands, caked in the clinging mass of almost-pastry.
"That's OK," Ryan grinned, "we can hug later. Where shall I put my stuff?"
Kirsten went to the faucet to rinse her hands.
"You'll be pleased to know your room is finally ready. I hung the blinds myself yesterday, so no more sleeping in the guest room."
"Great, I'll move my stuff upstairs then."
"No need. I already did that. Of course you may want to rearrange things. I just put stuff where I thought you might like it but don't feel you can't change it around. I know as soon as Seth gets home he'll move all the furniture out of his room and start over."
Ryan laughed and nodded in agreement.
"When's Seth get in?"
"About five o'clock. Sandy's driving to the airport to meet him. He's leaving around three just to be safe. You know how the holidays bring out the traffic."
"Cool. I'll go with him unless there's something I can do to help out here."
Kirsten shook her head.
"No, you go with Sandy. Can you imagine what Seth would say if he knew you were already here and hadn't gone to meet him?"
"Good point."
"Go and get yourself settled and then come back down. We'll have some lunch before you guys leave. Oh, and Ryan," Kirsten called after him, "a package arrived from your mom. I left it on your bed."
Kirsten smiled to herself. It was going to be a good Chrismukkah. She had all her family together under one roof until New Year when Seth, Ryan and Summer would head off to France to see Taylor, the tickets a gift from her and Sandy to Ryan and Seth, but especially Ryan, as Taylor was unable to return to the U.S over the holiday period. Kirsten wasn't quite sure how Taylor had managed to get herself blacklisted from every airline known to man but apparently once you were on such a list it was very difficult to get your name removed from it. And as Taylor pointed out, if she traveled home by ship she'd take all week to get to Newport and just have to turn around and head straight back. Ryan had protested at the gift, predictably, stating that they shouldn't waste their money but the Cohens had remained steadfast and eventually he had accepted it and called Taylor with the news. Taylor called Kirsten straight back and squealed her thanks excitedly down the international phone line. It was amazing how clearly her voice pierced the airwaves.
Ten whole days, Kirsten reflected. And she was determined to make each and every one perfect. The kids' presents were wrapped and under the tree, the food for Chanukah and Christmas was either on order or already prepared in the freezer and Sandy had drawn up a short list of appropriate Christmas Eve DVDs. A heavily pregnant Julie, and Kaitlin were being driven up to Berkeley on Christmas Eve morning by the Bullit, on his way to celebrating Christmas with one of his many sons who lived in San Francisco. Sandy and Kirsten hadn't liked to think of the Coopers spending Christmas alone in Newport, what with the Bullit out of town and Frank still deciding what role he wanted to play in the unborn baby's life. Besides, they would all soon become actual family with the arrival of Ryan's brother or sister into the world.
Sandy came into the kitchen just as she put the finishing touches to the mincemeat pie; two holly shaped leaves made from the left over pastry. Thank goodness for the Betty Crocker 100 piece decorating kit.
"Very impressive!" he remarked as he kissed the top of her head.
"You haven't tasted it yet!" she replied.
Ryan set his backpack down on the floor and looked around his room. It wasn't quite the pool house, far less windows for one thing, but it still felt like coming home. His drafting table sat in the corner under the window next to his computer, his punch bag hung in the other free corner near the walk in closet. Sandy had clearly spent time and energy setting that up for him and Ryan smiled gratefully, imagining the battle Sandy would have had with the power tools. Kirsten had arranged his books neatly on the bookshelf and the photo frames of him and Taylor rested on top. It was good to be home. Only when he had unpacked and piled his gifts for the family under the tree did he reach for the package from his mother and open it.
tbc
Hmm, OK, so there hasn't actually been any crying, drinking or cops - yet. There might be in part two (when it's written) . Then again, maybe there won't be. Kicks muses hard