Gina Calanni - How To Bake The Perfect Christmas Cake

“Brianna? Can you come on back to our table?” I push my fingers into the guys’ sides. Do they seriously not feel my fingers poking them? Good grief.

“Lauren? Hey, guys, can you step aside, my friend is trying to push through.” Like trained dogs, the red sea parts and Brianna is no longer a sliver but her entire frame is visible.

“Hey, Jack is here.” I say and nod my head in the direction of our table, the spot where we are supposed to be sitting.

“What? Jack?” Brianna stumbles off the stool and cranes her neck to see. I ignore any possible drinks she might be abandoning and guide her over to our table.

“Jack, this is my friend Brianna.” I wave my hand like Vanna White in front of a glowing rectangular box.

Jack stands up and shakes Brianna’s hand. “So, Jack. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Brianna slides into Owen’s lap barely missing spilling his drink. She takes it from his hand and takes a sip.

Jack smiles at her. How many rounds has Brianna had between the time she left to get my drink and returning to our table? I don’t want to hang around for a Brianna unraveling, I know we have only a short amount of time now before her night is technically over.

“Hey, we have a bunch of catching up to do, so we’re going to go.” I grab onto Jack’s arm. He offers his hand to Owen. Brianna swipes it away. “No. Come on. You both just got here, I want to chat.”

“Bri, I think we need to leave too.” Owen says, standing, which forces Brianna to stand as well. She grabs onto his arms to steady herself. I give her a ‘get a control on yourself’ glare. She doesn’t want me to enforce the pinch of reality check on her. I can tell by her eyes, she is aware of this fact and she nods in recognition.

We wave goodbye and Jack opens the door into the cold dark night.

Chapter Two

The entire drive home, my eyes switch between the road and the rear-view window. I don’t want to lose sight of Jack. He said he would follow me home. But I can’t help it, I fear he won’t. Quite possible one little turn and ‒ poof! ‒ he won’t be there.

I hit the pewter gray clicker on my visor to open my garage and glide my car in. I step outside and close my car door. I bite my lip and wait. It’s cold in my garage. I bounce up and down until Jack arrives. Even though I would prefer for him to enter through my front door instead of my garage, I forgo formalities and show him in through the garage door which leads into my laundry room. Thankfully, I have no delicate undergarments hanging to dry as we pass the washing machine and dryer. I trek up the stairs with Jack at my heels. I unlock the door which leads into my living room.

“So this is my house.” I wave my arm around the room.

“It’s nice.” Jack nods.

I bite my lip and make my way to the kitchen. I didn’t even get to try my holiday-tini. Hopefully, Brianna left it as well. She seemed to have hit her max. However, I on the other hand am in need of a drink – I can’t believe I have Jack-the-no-show in my house. As I reach to open the wine glass cabinet Jack pulls me in close to him.

“I’ve missed you.” He kisses me. The flickering sensations are there, but I’m confused. I’m not ready to lock lips with Jack. Not yet. I need to know why he didn’t come. Why he stood me up.

I pull back from his embrace. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Sure.” He lets go of my waist.

The blood in my body is heated, but I’m not rushing into anything. I grab a Cabernet from my wooden wine rack and unscrew the cork. Pop. From the cupboard I select two of my favorite wine glasses and pour a healthy amount into each one. A lot of wine is probably necessary for whatever it is he wants to say.

I give him one of the glasses. “Thank you. Do you want to sit down and talk?” he asks.

“That sounds good.” I take a swallow. It’s surreal to be standing in my kitchen with Jack, especially since I didn’t think I would see him again, let alone in my house. And definitely not in my kitchen, it’s like one of those puzzles where you have to figure out what doesn’t belong. I had never imagined Jack in my kitchen. Well, I had prior to him being a no show at the airport. But then all of those thoughts vanished and everything prior to them didn’t seem real.

Jack grins at me. “Where should we sit?”

I laugh, “Let’s go in the living room.” I lead him around the entryway of the kitchen and back into my living room where my seating consists of a couch and leather chair. I suppose we’ll sit on the couch next to each other. I stop midway and slide back onto to the gray suede microfiber.

Jack takes a sip of his wine and places the glass on my hickory coffee table. A garage sale find, I got it for twenty bucks and it’s made out of solid wood, not pressed-going-to-break-any-moment-wood.

“Lauren, you look great. I haven’t seen you in leather.” Jack tugs on my skirt.

I smile. “Well, technically, Jack, you haven’t seen me in much.” I laugh, realizing my faux pas.

Jack smiles. “I wish that were the case.”

“I mean, you haven’t seen me that much in person.” I take a sip of my wine.

“I know what you meant, Lauren. Anyways. Listen, I’m truly sorry I didn’t show up at the airport. I came here to explain it to you in person.” Jack rubs my thigh and reaches for my hand.

“You said you didn’t have any kids.” I blurt out.

“Kids? What? I don’t. Why would you say that?” Jack lets go of my hand.

“Uh, nothing. I just figured whatever held you up had to be important…like a child.” I stare at my glass. My cheeks are warm and it’s not from the wine. I’m embarrassed. Why can’t I play it cool?

“Well, it is important, but it’s not a child. It’s Vintage Estates.” Jack picks up his glass and takes a long swallow. His Adam’s apple flexes.

“Vintage Estates, is it okay? Did it catch on fire? Is my grandmother safe?” I stand up. I’m freaked out, I need to find my phone and call my parents.

“Lauren, it’s okay. Your grandmother is fine. There was no fire. Well, not physical fire.” Jack takes another sip of his wine like he’s taking his time trying to find the right words.

I sit back down next to him and squeeze his arm. “What do you mean, Jack?”

Jack shakes his head. “It’s well, things are on fire as in the red. When my brother died, Sherry his widow took over running the financial side of things and I was supposed to manage the rest of the place. Her job was the books.” Jack picks up his glass and finishes the remains of his wine. I stride back to the kitchen for the bottle and when I return Jack has his hands in his hair. His soft hair. I want to have my fingers in it too. But not yet, I need to figure out what has him so bothered, this is so out of character for him. He always seems so confident.

“What is it, Jack?” I pour some more wine into both of our glasses.

“Anyways, like I said her job was the books and now, well, she’s booked it.” Jack takes a sip of his wine.

“What?” I don’t understand what he’s trying to say.

“She’s gone, Lauren. Sherry left with everything. She fudged the books for a while until she siphoned all of the money from the home into a different account of hers and took off. The police have her last spot in Jamaica. Now, who knows?” Jack runs his fingers through his hair.

“Wow.” Is all I can manage to say. I’m floored. I’m shocked. I’m stunned. I flitter my eyes, trying to bring clarity to this situation. I rub my lips together. I’m parched. I take another sip of my wine.

“Exactly.” Jack takes another long swallow and stares at me. His eyes are full of worry and stress, it’s clear now how upset he is. The dark circles under his lashes indicate a severe lack of sleep.