NINE - Eggnog

On his first morning waking up in the isolated cabin, Rick wished to sleep late, but he couldn't because he woke up before dawn absolutely, positively freezing. His normal sleeping attire for winter was boxers and a t-shirt because he generally kept his apartment fairly warm. He'd thought the blankets on the cabin's bed would keep him warm enough, but evidently that was not the case; all his extremities felt like ice. Rick shivered so bad he could hardly pull on his jeans and button-down from the prior day before hobbling to the potbelly stove in the main room of the cabin and fiddling with it for ten minutes before he could figure out how to get a fire going inside of it once more.

Knowing warmth would soon come, Rick grabbed a blanket and tried to lay on the couch, which was the closest place to the stove on which to lay, but he was too miserably cold to fall back to sleep. Figuring maybe an afternoon nap would be more productive, he made coffee and sat with it cradled in his hand while wearing a blanket as a cape as he tried to warm up.

Though it took an hour, the cabin soon almost became too warm, but given how cold he had been Rick chose not to mind that too much and did his best to get some writing done. He wrote a few pages, but soon found it difficult to focus, and decided to go on a walk around the lake for a distraction. He also thought perhaps he might run into Kate, the intriguing woman whose mitten he found the day before, but he sadly did not. He did bump into an older couple who had a very friendly yellow lab and chatted with them for about ten minutes, but that was all the human interaction he had.

Back in his cabin, he called Alexis once it was a reasonable hour on the west coast. Unfortunately, their conversation was quite jumbled due to very poor reception, but he was at least able to confirm that Meredith had picked her up from the airport and was taking her shopping that day.

Since speaking with his daughter reminded him once again that she was not going to be with him for Christmas, Rick distracted himself by eating the pre-made salad he'd purchased for lunch and turned back to his writing, which was actually successful that round. He found himself so "in the zone" that he didn't even notice how late it was getting until he got out of his chair to go to the bathroom and realized most of the cabin was completely dark.

Satisfied with the amount of work he'd done, Rick decided it was time to make himself dinner. He'd purchased some chicken cutlets which he planned on stir-frying and with some vegetables he purchased and so he began rummaging in the kitchen cabinets for the tools he'd need. He found a cast iron skillet and cutting board to use to prep his food. He'd purchased oil just in case the cabin didn't have any, which ended up being a good call because he didn't find any in the small pantry.

After pouring the oil into the skillet, he set it on the two burner stove so that it could heat up, but when he turned the knob to ignite the burner, he heard a click, but no flames appeared. Twisting his lips to the side in concentration, he crouched down and proceeded to fiddle with the knobs and burner for several more minutes to no avail; he could not get the stove to turn on.

Not too worried at that point, Rick decided that the best thing to do would be to call the cabin's owner, Chip. He was a friendly older gentleman who had talked to Rick for nearly an hour when the cabin booking was made. Evidently the cabin belonged to Chip's father, who was an avid fisherman. After his father passed, Chip inherited the place, but didn't enjoy fishing as much, so he mostly rented it out. He'd told Rick not to hesitate to call if an issue arose, and Rick decided to do just that—even though it was technically Christmas Eve.

Rick walked over to where he'd left his laptop at the table. There, he'd left his phone as well as the contact information for Chip. Before he'd even begun to dial, Rick frustratingly realized his phone displayed a "No Signal" error. It hadn't been that long since he'd spoken to Alexis, though admittedly the call had been cutting in and out at that time.

Figuring the reception had to be better outside, he put on his heavy coat and then dialed Chips number on the phone but didn't hit the "send" button. Then, he stepped outside the cabin and was immediately knocked back by a wall of bone-chilling cold. The stinging temperature of the air was so great that he actually yelped, but then tried to recover as quickly as he could so he could get his phone call over with. Rick wandered around the area in front of the cabin for several minutes with his phone above his head waiting for the "No Signal" to vanish and bars to appear, but they never did.

Frustrated, Rick stomped out further into the yard, chasing an elusive signal. Just one bar! He only needed one bar!

He was about fifteen feet away from the house when he realized that small snowflakes had begun to fall from the sky above. He glanced up briefly, but that far after dusk it was almost pitch black outside. He was stumbling around only from the ambient light of the cabin's exterior lighting, which at that distance was minimal at best. Yet, Rick remained determined to get a cell signal.

"Uhh Rick? Are you okay?" Rick heard after about seven minutes of wanting around in the freezing cold darkness.

"Wha—huh?" Startled he spun around until he saw the beam of a flashlight approaching, though due to the darkness he could not see the face of the person speaking to him.

"Are you okay?"

"I—who are you?"

"Oh, I'm sorry." The woman moved the flashlight beam from the ground to point straight upwards. It barely illuminated her face, but he recognized her immediately. "You found my glove yesterday; I'm-"

"Kate," he breathed, still a bit shocked to have met up with her by the lake near his cabin. "Yeah, I remember."

"So…are you alright? You don't have a flashlight…"

He grumbled. "I didn't mean to walk this far from my cabin I just—I'm trying to get some cell reception."

She hummed. "Well, you might not have too much luck with that, especially with this snowstorm coming in."

Rick frowned. "Oh…I…hmm…sorry," he added quickly when he could see Kate's brow tightening in confusion. "The stove in the cabin stopped working and I tried to fix it, but, frankly, I have no idea what could be wrong, so I thought I'd call the cabin's owner but…"

"Right." Kate nodded. Then, after a beat added, "I can take a look if you want. I was just taking a little walk so it's not big deal."

"Oh—oh!" his tone elevated with surprise when he realized she was offering to help him, a total stranger, without being asked. Then again, he had found her glove earlier, so they weren't total strangers, just mostly strangers. "Sure. That would be—that'd be great, thank you. Thank you so much."

She shrugged and the followed him across the crisp ground towards the cabin. "It's not a problem. The stove my parents had for years was…something. Probably a terrible fire hazard, to be honest. I finally made my father replace it a few years ago, because I was convinced one of the times he tried to fry up one of the fish he caught the whole place would go up in smoke."

"Fair enough," Rick chuckled as they reached the cabin's porch.

He led the way inside where Kate scuffed her boots against the welcome mat and unzipped her coat as she slipped through the narrow doorway. She gazed around for a moment, but then immediately walked into the kitchen on the left. "Oh, yeah, this one is just like ours—only smaller," she proclaimed upon looking at the stove.

"So you know all its secrets," he concluded, hopeful.

"Let's hope so," she said, smiling at him over her shoulder before setting to work. Rick tried to ignore the tingles that smile sent down his spine as he leaned against the kitchen table, wanting to stay out of her way and feeling a bit awkward that he was unable to assist.

Rick watched as Kate checked dials and plugs and arched her body over the top of the range unit so she could presumably check the wall connection. Then with a quick, "Be right back," she walked outside the cabin once more and he could see her walking around the house through the small window above the kitchen sink. She was outside about five minutes before she returned with a frown.

"Well, I have good news and bad news."

Suspecting he knew the bad news, Rick concluded, "You know what's wrong, but can't fix it."

Giving him a sad smile, she said, "No, I can't. For whatever reason this stove uses a different fuel tank than the one hooked up to the water heater and furnace and that fuel tank is very empty. The owner must have forgotten to have it refilled; I'm sorry."

Rick huffed out a breath. "Well considering its Christmas Eve I don't think I'm going to get a fuel delivery

"No, I don't think so." After a moment she suggested, "You could make a fire?"

His immediate reaction was to cringe. "Ah… at the risk of sounding unmanly: I don't know that I could successfully cook chicken that way without either burning it or giving myself food poisoning."

She laughed and nodded, "Yeah, I guess I couldn't either."

They stood side by side in the tight kitchen silently for a moment before Rick said, "Well, that's okay. I'll just cut my trip a little short and go home first thing tomorrow morning, but I really appreciate your help, Kate."

She stared at him for a few seconds before trapping her bottom lip between her teeth and glancing over to the kitchen counter, where his packet of chicken and vegetables were sitting beside the stove, waiting patiently for him to finish prepping them. After nearly twenty seconds of silence she finally concluded, "C'mon—grab your food; you can use my stove."

Now taken completely aback, he held his one hand up defensively and stammered, "Oh—I—I wasn't-"

"I know, but it's Christmas, right? C'mon."

Nodding, he hurried to the counter and began gathering what he could and shoving it back into the shopping bag it came from. "Thanks—thanks so much. Should we drive to your place, or…?"

She nodded. "Might as well. It's only going to snow harder as the night goes on."

Ten minutes later, after grabbing his food, other necessary cooking items, and his coat, Rick was following Kate's directions to navigate his Mercedes towards her family's cabin. The journey was short and she soon was leading the way into the warm, rustic space. Her cabin was significantly larger than the one he was renting. The living space was more expansive and from the length of the hall he could see in the rear, he guessed it had three bedrooms not just two. Unlike his cabin, which was decorated with mostly generic fishing or rustic décor, this was clearly a family cabin with knickknacks and family photos adding to the warmth.

"Oh, wow this is really nice."

Kate shrugged as she took off her coat, "It isn't much…mostly just a little escape."

"Yeah, but it's still great—homey." He smiled at her for a few seconds then put his grocery bags down while he took off his coat, too. "Well, uh, I won't take up too much of your time. Can I make you something, too? As a thank you."

"Oh, um…" she hesitated for a moment then threw her hands out to the side in a 'giving up' gesture. "Sure, why not. I saw you had chicken and vegetables…"

"Yeah, I was going to put them all together in a stir fry."

"I have some rice to make."

"Perfect!"

For the next few minutes they both busied themselves in the tight kitchen. It was a delicate dance as there was not too much counter space around the stove, even though it did seem, as Kate had implied, that the space had been renovated recently. They managed it well enough, and after Kate started the rice, Rick chopped the vegetables and dumped them into the skillet before turning to the chicken cutlets and slicing them as well.

"So, tell me Kate, what is it that you do?"

"I'm a police officer."

His brow arched as he pushed the chicken off the cutting board and into the pan. "Really? So you're used to saving people in distress?"

She laughed airily. "Something like that."

He washed his hands at the kitchen sink and then, after turning off the water, he told her. "I'm an author."

"I know."

Startled by her words, he did a double-take in her direction and nearly dropped the towel he was using to dry his hands. "You…do you read my books?"

Kate's cheeks turned slightly pink as she confessed, "I might have skimmed through one or two."

Assuming her dismissive comment was just meant to be a way to avoid some embarrassment, Rick smiled as he turned to their skillet meal, picked up a spatula, and began pushing around chicken and vegetable pieces so nothing burned.

So, Kate was, presumably, a fan of his books. How else would she have recognized him from just his first name? That also made sense. Since she was saving him from going hungry that evening he hadn't wanted to question it, but he did find it slightly odd that a young woman such as herself would invite a strange man back to her cabin, which was isolated in the middle of nowhere. Maybe that was just his writer's mind used to spinning dark scenarios but…well, thinking about his daughter, he hoped that she would not make the same decision in a similar circumstance for the sake of her safety. Finding out she was a police officer made a bit more sense; her training presumably made her feel more comfortable with self-defense, but if she knew him as a public figure, she would have been more likely to feel safe around him—not that he would have ever thought of hurting a woman, but sadly he knew that was not always the case with others.

Feeling in the mood to tease her a little bit more, he said, "So that's why you wanted to have dinner with me? Because I'm one of your favorite authors?"

When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw that she eyed him skeptically. "I'm not sure that's what I said."

"It was implied."

She laughed. "I see."

Silence hung in the air for several moments before he changed the subject with, "So you live around here?"

"No, Manhattan."

Now even more pleasantly surprised he proclaimed, "Oh! You're NYPD?" After she confirmed with a nod, he said, "That's amazing. How long have you been on the force?"

"Oh, not long. I graduated the academy in August."

"Ahh well if you're willing, I'd be all too happy to hear all your rookie stories as we eat."

Ignoring his question, she instead offered, "Do you need help with anything? I feel bad I'm just standing here."

"Nonsense," he said casually. There really wouldn't have been room for her to join him at the stove; the space was too tight. Besides, he didn't mind. "I really enjoy cooking; it helps me think and plan my writing usually."

"Really?"

"Yeah, because it keeps my hands busy, but my mind free to wander."

"Hmm…makes sense."

A few minutes later their meal was complete. Rick divided the stir fry and rice between two plates and then carried them over to the small dining table tucked in the corner of the room. As he set the plates down, he noticed a photo hung on the wall of a family: a man and a woman with a young girl about seven or eight standing in between them. The photo was clearly older and faded, and both adults wore sunglasses, but the woman had long dark hair and distinctive jawline and the man lighter brown hair and a soft smile. All three wore lifejackets and the lake—presumably the one located just a few feet away—could be seen behind them.

"This is you and your parents, I assume?" he asked, thumbing towards the photo.

"Yeah."

"Where are they at? Don't tell me they took a tropical vacation without you?"

She gave a soft smile as she picked up her fork and began to eat. "No, nothing like that."

"You're lucky, though—getting Christmas off," Rick said in between bites. He didn't imagine that was common for a rookie officer.

"I have to work Christmas day in the evening. And…I'll be in Times' Square on New Year's Eve," she explained.

"Oh! And you're…not excited about that?" he guessed based on her tone. She gave him a look and he let out a small laugh. "Ah, right, I suppose not."

"It's only supposed to be fifteen degrees out!"

He nodded, sympathetic. "I know, I know; I don't envy you at all. I've done it a few times as a spectator and it was never too bad as long as I'd had plenty of alcohol to warm me up."

"I'm sure."

They ate quietly for several minutes before Rick asked, "Did you spend your Christmases up here when you were little?"

"Mmm no. This place was usually my dad's escape. His father and uncles purchased it when they were all young men. Now, they've all passed, and the cabin became my father's, so he's the one with the most connection to it. We used to come up here at least one week every summer to do things with the lake and just get out of the city, but almost never in the winter."

Rick considered her comments as he slowly chewed his meal. He wondered why, if Kate's father was so connected to the cabin, the elder man hadn't joined her for the holiday? Furthermore, why hadn't her mother? Sensing the question may have been a bit too personal to ask with that moment, he decided on a slight change of subject.

"I, um, I think I need to come up with some good holiday traditions for my daughter. I used to make sure I got her picture sitting on Santa's lap every year, but this year she outright refused because she's figured out that Santa isn't real, so she's a little salty about the whole ritual and refused to humor me. That's literally what she said to—'Dad, don't expect me to humor you.'"

Kate laughed. "How old is she?"

"Six."

Kate laughed again, harder that time. "Six?!"

"Yeah: six going on twenty. I think she's already too smart for me and I fear that will soon be a pretty big problem."

Kate nodded. "Yeah, it might be. Where is she spending Christmas?"

Sighing, Rick set down his fork and said, "With her mother. Last year, we'd just separated, so we tried to have a joint Christmas and it…didn't go so well." He involuntarily shivered at the memory of the wildly inappropriate phone conversation Meredith had with her new lover during their shared meal and their fight thereafter. "So, this year we decided to split the winter holidays: I got Thanksgiving and Meredith got Christmas."

She nodded and said, "That must be hard."

Unable to verbalize just how much his heart was breaking, Rick tried to stay positive. "I suppose it's unfair of me to complain. I have primary custody, so I have Alexis nearly all the time, but Christmas…it's my favorite holiday. My favorite time of the year. What's worse is I had to send her to California by herself. I did get to take her through security to the gate and the assigned chaperone was extremely nice and gave her a candy cane but… it was still really hard to walk away."

"I can't imagine," Kate said. When he met her sympathetic gaze, Rick did have to admit to feeling slightly better. Still, his heart was heavy.

"Sorry to bring the mood down."

She waved her hand dismissively. "Don't even worry about it."

Finishing his glass of water, Rick continued with, "It's, ah, why I came out here. Being in my apartment without her just felt like something that was too sad to bear."

"I get that. It's one of the reasons I'm not doing Christmas in the city this year."

Surprised, his brow rose sharply. "You have a child?"

"What? No—sorry. Sorry. My mother…died."

His eyes widened and his chest constricted with sorrow. Though he knew he didn't do it directly, Rick did feel bad about bringing up a subject that was sensitive. "Oh—oh Kate I'm so sorry."

One corner of her lip tugged upwards in a sad half-smile in acknowledgement of his comment. "This is the fourth Christmas without her. She, ah, died in January. Just after the holidays and…and my dad and I haven't really celebrated since. He…we don't even talk about it. We just don't celebrate, which is…well, it is what it is, but being in the city makes it harder—walking past all the places where we made memories together as a family. And then this year…" She paused for a moment and took a deep breath, almost as though she needed to reset herself. "The reason I even got to take off work at all was because I had to take him to rehab."

"Oh god," Rick sighed, now feeling even worse. There he was complaining about not getting to spend a few days with his kid, who would be back before New Years', and poor Kate had lost one parent forever and the other was struggling to the point where he was unavailable to her as well. "I'm so sorry to hear that, Kate."

She gave him an appreciative smile. "It's been bad for a while. I knew it. We both knew it. He's been trying to get a handle on it on his own and been insisting he didn't need an in-patient program, but it just wasn't working, you know? Finally, I got him to agree to go as a Christmas present to me. Some present," she added wryly.

"It will be if it helps him," Rick pointed out in a soft tone.

"Yeah. Yeah, I know that. It's just…hard." She sat for another moment before pushing herself up out of her chair suddenly, walking over to the refrigerator and pulling out a cardboard carton, which she held up to him. "Want some?"

Even from that distance, Rick could clearly read the word "Eggnog" printed on the side and said, "Sure. Why not? It's Christmas Eve."

Kate poured two small glasses and handed him one. At the first sip he choked, his palate shocked by the alcohol, which he hadn't expected since she poured it from a store-bought container and to his knowledge the store-bought kind was alcohol free. "Wow," he croaked. "Your recipe could give my mother's a run for her money."

"Sorry—I should have warned you. I, uh, got a little heavy handed last night when I poured the whisky in the container."

He shook his head in as an indication he didn't mind, but he did make sure to take a more delicate sip the next time.

"So, your mother—will you see her for Christmas?" Kate asked.

"Ah, no, actually. She's an actress and she's touring with a holiday production. Their shows run through January second and she'll come back home after that."

"And your father?"

"Never met him," Rick replied casually, taking another sip of eggnog.

Kate's eyes widened. "Really? Never?"

Rick bobbed his head, knowing his untraditional backstory was a bit hard to process for most people. "Yeah; I don't even know who he is. I was the, ah, product of a one-night stand."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

Rick shook his head. "'s okay. I've had over thirty years to process it."

"Still…to never know a parent…I can't imagine."

He nodded. "Most can't—and I'm glad. It's certainly not something I would wish on anyone, but yet it's also something that made me who I am."

She nodded approvingly. "That's a very healthy attitude, Rick."

He raised his glass in salute. "Well, thank you."

For the next three hours they drank the remainder of the quart of eggnog and chatted about an amalgamation of subjects: their jobs, the holiday season, life. Though he didn't exactly acknowledge it at the time, looking back Rick was almost stunned how easy it seemed to talk to her about anything. Over the course of his life, he'd found himself having quick and easy connections to people he met several times, but each one was unique in its own way. With Kate, their conversation flowed effortlessly. They bounced around to a variety of topics and then back again without feeling like the conversation was too disjointed or nonsensical. It was all smooth and connected, like she was one of his oldest friends in the world instead of a woman he'd met by pure chance the day before.

Once the eggnog was finished, Kate offered Rick some water since he was driving, but he declined when he realized how long they'd been talking. By traditional standards it wasn't that late, but he felt as though a holiday such as Christmas Eve had an exception. He didn't want to displace whatever existing holiday plans she had for herself that night, particularly since she was returning to work the following day.

"I appreciate it, but I really should get out of your hair."

"Ahh, yeah okay. I…I don't think I realized what time it was," she said with a light laugh.

"Yeah me neither. I, um, I really appreciate you letting me use your stove."

She nodded. "Of course. Thanks for making dinner. It was…nice to have someone to eat with."

Smiling, he agreed with, "Same," and then stared at her for a moment, unsure of the proper way to say goodbye. A handshake seemed far too impersonal, but would a hug be too much? Deciding he shouldn't over think it and that it was probably okay considering the intimacy of their conversation, he stepped up and gave her a brief one-armed hug, which she thankfully reciprocated. "Merry Christmas," he said as he backed his way to the door, where he'd left his coat.

"Yes, Merry Christmas."

Now zipping his coat, he reached for the doorhandle and smiled back over his shoulder at her, "Goodnight Kate."

"Goodnight, Rick," she echoed. Then, with a nod of his head, he disappeared out into the freezing snow-covered night.