Happiness for H: A Christmas to Remember December 7, 2008

Emily finished up the breakfast dishes and picked up her coffee cup. On the table sat her folder with the Christmas cookie recipes she intended to use today. She had spent yesterday decorating the main building of the resort, or the lodge as it was called. The 7 foot balsam pine that she and Josh had cut several days ago was now proudly standing in the main room, it's Northwoodsy scent infusing itself throughout the lodge. Josh had helped her get the twinkling blue and white lights on it, so all that was left was to decorate it with the various ornaments and handmade decorations that Grandma had collected over the years.

She sipped her coffee and stared out the window at the blowing snow. It was hard to believe that 3 months ago she had been thousands of miles away, where a cold snap was considered to be 60 degrees. She really ought to call Jean and see how things were coming along at the Book 'n Bean. But without a cell phone, she would have to call from the lodge phone. Emily regretted her earlier decision to drop her cell phone into the Temperance River on her way home from visiting her friend in Duluth a month ago, but it really was for the best. She never wanted to hear from anyone in Miami again. Maybe she should just send Jean a Christmas card. Annoyed with herself for wasting time thinking about things she couldn't undo, Emily set her cup down with a jolt, dislodging the contents all over the table and on her recipes. Muttering under her breath, she got up to find a cloth to mop up the mess.

When Grandma peaked into the kitchen some time later, it had been transformed into a holiday bakery. Precious Child was playing on the iPod docking station in the corner and cookies of various kinds lay on every available surface. Behind Emily, neatly stacked into clear plastic containers were a variety of colored spritz cookies, red and green meringues, fudge, and Russian tea cakes. Emily was covered in flour and was working with a light brown dough she had turned out onto the flour covered work surface.

"It smells good in here Emily." Grandma entered the kitchen. Her granddaughter looked up and smiled.

"Thank you Grandma. I've been pretty lucky so far, no disasters, but this batch of Mama Estin cookies might get the best of me. The dough seems really sticky." As if to prove her point she held the large wooden stick she was using to roll the dough, showing her grandmother the pieces of light brown goo adhered to it.

"Put the chunk you're not working with out on the deck for the time being. The kitchen is too warm." Grandma advised.

Grandma perched on a stool at the counter and sipped her coffee as she watched her granddaughter cut out camels and angels.

"I don't think I've had Mama Estin cookies since I made them at Horatio's," she said conversationally. "As I recall, he rather liked them." She heard Emily's indrawn breath and chose to ignore it. "Of course, I think we caught him off guard when we told him we could only tell him the secret recipe under 1 condition." Grandma reached for some shimmering white edible glitter flakes. "I think these for the angel wings, hmmm…" Emily simply shrugged her shoulders and concentrated on re-rolling the dough for another set of cut-outs. While she made a production of choosing a cutter, her mind had quickly gone back to that gray day in Miami in Horatio's kitchen.

Grandma had decided to make the family recipe cookie that she knew was Emily's favorite. It was raining outside and Horatio called to say he had something or other come up at the lab and he wouldn't be home until later. By the time they had shopped for the ingredients and mixed up the cookies, it was getting dark. The kitchen was warm and cozy, the soundtrack from CATS was playing on the cd player and the wonderful scent of ginger, cinnamon and cloves mingling with freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen. Several dozen cookies were cooling on the paper bags they had spread out on the counter. Grandma was cutting out the last of the cookies using a glass and Emily was sugaring the circles before they went in the oven. Horatio had come in the patio doors, shaking the raindrops from his red hair. Emily would never forget the look in his blue eyes as she glanced over to welcome him home. He was taking in every detail, as if he wanted to imprint the scene on his mind's eye forever. Emily had gone over and touched him gently on the shoulder, asking softly,

"Are you alright Horatio?"

He had blinked and then those eyes had gazed deep into hers and he said huskily,

"Yes. I always dreamed of coming home to something like this. Like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting." He had hugged her tightly then, whispering, "Thank you, Emily, for sharing your family with me." After a quick kiss, he had gone over to her grandmother, kissing her on the cheek and eyeing the cookies cooling on the counter.

"I see you two have been busy. May I?"

"Of course, Horatio." Grandma had watched as he bit into one of the cookies and chewed thoughtfully.

"These are wonderful. Gingerbread?"

"No. Better than gingerbread. Secret family recipe," Grandma had said mysteriously. "I can only divulge the recipe to family members. Emily does know it, but has been sworn to secrecy. She may only divulge it to a spouse or any children they might have." Emily had blushed furiously at her grandmother's comment. She looked up to see Horatio regarding her carefully.

"Hmm …. I'll keep that in mind." He reached for more cookies and the moment passed.

The ringing of the stove timer brought Emily back to the present with a jolt. She quickly went to the oven and pulled out two trays that were finished, then slipped the next two into the oven, setting the timer for 10 minutes. Returning to where her grandmother was sitting, Emily looked up and asked softly,

"Could we talk about something else, please? I … I really don't want to talk about … him." She busied herself with flouring the work area for her next set of cut-outs as she blinked away the tears that had blurred her vision.

"Of course dear. I don't want to upset you. But … maybe it would be better to talk to someone about what happened between the two of you in Miami, instead of keeping it all bottled up. It hurts to see you so unhappy. I would imagine he's as miserable as you are."

Emily looked up at her grandmother swiftly, but the elderly lady merely sipped her coffee and said innocently, "So, I hear you're going to help with the children's Christmas play at the community center in Grand Marais. Are you sure you're not taking to much on?"

Relieved that her grandmother was off the subject of Horatio, Emily said unthinkingly, "Josh says I need involvement to feel part of the community again. He suggested it." She shrugged and continued rolling the dough on the table before her. "I'll be careful. I'm just helping organize the party afterwards. I thought I'd freeze some of our holiday baking and use them for the party." Grandma was watching Emily carefully,

"Okay dear. That sounds like a good idea. But, you've just rolled that dough within an inch of it's natural life. I think it might be a good time to put it outside for a bit and bring Ghost inside for a while. I'm going to start decorating the tree."

Emily watched as her grandmother left the kitchen and then took a shuddering breath. There was no one she could talk to about Horatio. What would she say? That she had been told to leave Miami or else he would be hurt or worse. Would anyone even believe it? If it hadn't been for the e-mail message and photo of him that she had found on her car that day, she would probably not have believed it herself. No, she had to keep her secret to keep him safe.

TBC