Blog

After spending an hour painting my own ornaments, I lay them out to dry.  Then I realize I need to work on dinner.  But before I can think too much about this latest challenge, the doorbell rings.  I cross the living room to answer it. 

As I swing the door wide, Lyric stands grinning at me.  “Hello, Mrs. Franklin.  Is Nana home?”

“Lyric!  Come in!   You’re in time to taste the cheese straws.”

“Cheese straws?”  He quirks one beautiful eyebrow.  “What is a cheese straw?”

“I can tell that none of you were raised on the Food Network,” I murmur quietly.

He chuckles.  “Actually, that’s not true.”  He leans towards me and whispers conspiratorially, “No one knows this, but at night I transform into Gordon Ramsay.”

I giggle.  “Gordon Ramsay?  You know who Gordon Ramsay is?”

“Of course, I know who Gordon Ramsay is!” he declares in mock offense.

“Pardon me.  You must have grown up on the Food Network.”

“I did.  My mother stayed home with us when we were little.  She lived off that channel.”

“So, Lyric, the question is: what are you going to make us for dinner?”

Now two gorgeous eyebrows ascend his forehead.  “I’m making you all dinner?”

“Oh, would you?  That would be just lovely!  I’m sure Nana would be happy to help you!”

Lyric looks stunned.  I’m chuckling.

“I was just teasing you, you know,” I finally relieve his anxiety.

Suddenly, his boxy smile is lighting up his face.  “I’d be happy to cook dinner if you have a recipe to follow.  And the ingredients for it, of course.”

“Oh, of course,” I nod. 

He continues to stand there staring at me.

“Oh.  Are you serious?”  None of my children’s friends has ever offered to make us dinner before.  This is entirely new territory for me.  Now I’m wondering if perhaps I’m off the hook for preparing dinner tonight after all.

“I do love to cook.”

“What a coincidence,” I respond.

“What?”

“I love to eat.  Welcome to the family!”

His white teeth are shining at me again.  I lead him to the dining room where Janna is still painting ornaments. 

“Nana, Lyric just offered to make us all dinner.  Would you like to help him?”

Her eyes leave his face – yes, they’ve been riveted to it ever since he stepped into the room behind me – and find mine.  Then they fly back to his.  “You’re going to cook us dinner?”  She narrows her eyes and catches my gaze.  “Mom, did you rope Lyric into cooking?”

“I was kidding!” I exclaim.

“No, no.  It’s fine.  I really do love to cook.”  Lyric turns that boxy smile on me, and I can see exactly why my daughter is so nuts about him.  “Do you have something in mind?  Or do you want me to figure something out?”

“Why don’t you check out my fridge and pantry and let me know what inspires you?”

“Excellent.”  He rubs his hands together.  “This is going to be fun.  Especially,” he turns towards my daughter, “if you help me.”

“Oh, I will definitely help you,” she replies as she pushes her chair back and stands to her feet.  “Let’s go see what we’ve got.”

I smile as they head for the kitchen.  It seems that I’m to receive a night off.  I decide it’s time to do some laundry.

––

“Em?” 

An hour later, as I walk through the living room on my way to the hallway that leads to all of our bedrooms, I hear Kookie’s soft voice sounding outside of Janna’s room. 

“Yes?” 

I see her respond through the open doorway as I pass behind Kookie on my way to my own room.  But as my ears perk up, I stop inside the doorway to my bedroom.  

I hear Kookie clear his throat.  “Em, do you want to go to the Snow Ball?”

Silence.

“I mean, I was thinking about going….” Kookie admits, but then he allows his voice to trail off.

“I don’t know, Kookie.  Nobody’s asked me.  I,” she coughs, “don’t really want to go to another dance by myself.”

“You wouldn’t have to,” he hints awkwardly.

Listening to this painful conversation, I wince.

“I wouldn’t?” she queries, trying to mask the hope in her voice.

“No.  Not if you decide to go with me.”  

“Kookie, are you asking me to the Snow Ball?”

A long pause.  Then, “Yes.”

I can’t take it any longer.  I turn around and move my head so I can see Emmie’s face.  It’s been suffused by a luminescent joy.  She doesn’t even notice me.  She has eyes only for Kookie.

“Really?” Her voice hits a high note in surprise.

He nods.  “Really.”

“Okay!” she whispers, but her glee is evident in her shining eyes.

“Okay,” Kookie echoes before turning towards the living room.  “That’s great, Em,” he murmurs before walking away, leaving only air between me and Emmie.

Now her eyes collide with mine.  And we both grin like fools at each other.  My smile is still stretching my cheeks wide as I turn to head into my room a moment later.  Kookie is taking Emmie to the dance!  

I love how he calls her “Em.”  I think it’s the sweetest thing in his world.

—

Since I’m not cooking dinner, I have time to make a phone call.

“Jess?” I greet Emmie’s mother as she picks up her phone.  “Are you still planning to come to Christmas Eve dinner this year?”

“Absolutely!  What do you need me to bring?”

“Nothing.  You have to work all day, don’t you?  I’ll be home with the kids.  Probably yours and mine,” I chuckle.  “Believe me.  I will put our army to work.”

She laughs.  “Actually, I have the whole day off.  So I can bring something if you like.”

“Nah.  Enjoy your day off.  And by enjoy, I don’t mean find housework to occupy yourself.  Pamper yourself.  Take a hot bath.  Read a book.  Watch a movie.  And then come to my house at six o’clock.  And I will feed you a feast fit for a queen.”

“Don’t I know it?  You do it every year.”

Indeed, I do.  

I smile as I imagine the table laden with Swedish meatballs, mashed potatoes and gravy, cucumber salad, lefse, and lingonberries.  My mother-in-law developed this delicious meal to honor her Norwegian heritage.  I can’t imagine Christmas Eve without it.  I always serve a creamy cheesecake for dessert.  Adopting its recipe from my husband’s stepmother long ago, I incorporated this tangy treat into our December twenty-fourth traditions.  

I also set out a relish plate complete with black olives, cheese, crackers, and pickled herring in cream sauce.  We honor the traditions of his family by playing games and watching movies after enjoying the feast with friends and family.  Christmas Eve is one of the highlights of the whole season for all of us.  

––

After my phone call, I wander out to the kitchen to see what Lyric and Janna are dreaming up.  I smell onions sautéing before I even enter the room. 

“Mmm.  It already smells delightful in here,” I opine as I step up to the island.  “Whatcha making?”

“Lasagna,” Lyric smiles at me. 

“Oh, that sounds good!”  After a moment, I speak again.  “But I don’t have any French bread.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.  And garlic bread is a must.  Nana and I will head to the store in a few minutes.  I need to pick up some Italian sausage too.”

“I can send Kookie instead.  That way you two can keep cooking.”  I glance at Janna.  She’s just sitting on a stool at the island.  Not much cooking going on over there.

“It’s okay,” Lyric assures me.  “I want to make homemade sauce, so I need several ingredients.”

I simply stare at him for a moment.  This boy is seventeen?  “Like what?” I finally ask.

“Tomatoes, fresh basil, Italian sausage, fresh garlic…”

“Are we out of garlic again?” I glance at Janna.

She just nods her head.

“All right.  I give in.  You two go shop.  I am leaving dinner in your extremely capable hands.  Thank you, Lyric, for an evening off.”

“My pleasure.  I’d be happy to cook any night I’m here.  On the weekends anyway.  I’ve had a crazy amount of homework during the week.”

Janna looks sharply at him.  “You have?”

He nods.  “Between basketball and homework, I’m barely sleeping.  I definitely don’t have time to cook.”

“That must be the difference between juniors and seniors,” she mumbles.

“You don’t have much homework?”

She shakes her head.  “Not since play practice ramped up.  Of course, my English teacher is actively involved in it.  So she considers practice part of our class credit.  Some of our assignments have been optional for those of us involved in the musical.”

“Wow.  I wish my teachers were that kind.  Shouldn’t I get physics credit for playing basketball?  I mean I’m putting the laws of gravity to work every time I bounce a ball.”

I snort as I cross the threshold into the living room.  I really love Lyric’s sense of humor.  So does Nana.  She’s giggling.

––

“Dinner is absolutely delicious, Lyric!” I praise him as I prepare to take another bite of my lasagna.  It’s the best I’ve ever eaten.  Even better than my own.  “Would you like a job as a chef?” I ask.  “Can you cook for us every night?”

My husband looks alarmed.  Lyric appears uncomfortable with my accolades.

“I really can’t.  Too much homework,” he mumbles.

“I was kidding.  Although I don’t think I would ever turn down a meal you made.”  I glance over at Kookie. 

He’s scarfing down his lasagna.  And nodding his head.  I can tell that he’s enjoying every bite too.

“Who wants to watch Christmas movies tonight?” I query.

My husband groans.  Several of my children hide under the table.  Just kidding.  Everyone is still in his or her seat.  But no one is making eye contact with me now.

“Fine.  I’ll just keep all the good cheer to myself then,” I grin.

I’m fully aware that by the end of the evening, they’ll all be sitting around the TV with me.  It’s a family tradition.  No one wants to admit that they enjoy Christmas movies, but they all do.  Even my husband.  A little.  A few.  Sometimes.  He has been known to laugh at one from time to time.

I’ll prepare the popcorn and hot cocoa.  I want to be ready when all my movie buddies arrive.

“What movie are you watching?” Lyric asks me.

Ah, see!  Someone is interested.

“I’m not sure.  I taped several over the past few days.  We’ve got lots to choose from.”

My husband is preparing to make fun of me.

I beat him to it.  “Yes, I said taped.  As in the olden days of yore, back in the Middle Ages when we used VCRs.  And, no, I didn’t mean to say record.”

He’s chuckling now.  This is a very old joke between us.

I will probably never retire my use of the word tape.  After all, when I was growing up, we taped everything!  I watched movies on tapes.  I listened to music on tapes.  I taped posters to my walls.  Tape was a defining word back then.  It framed my universe. 

Without the ability to tape, we wouldn’t have arrived here in the twenty-first century, land of not just CDs but also instant downloads.  A wonderland which I couldn’t have imagined at thirteen.  Still, I cling to my use of the word tape.  And am constantly mocked for it.

Yet, my predictions come true.  Two hours later, I glance around the living room at all the faces turned towards the delightful movie playing on the screen.  Yes, it’s one of those sappy romances with a happy ending.  I’m a sucker for those stories.  As long as the dialogue is witty and well-written.  I do not enjoy being bored any more than the next person. 

I glance over at the next person.  To my right, that’s my husband.  Munching on popcorn.  He and Everett are sharing a bag.  So are Kookie and Emmie to their right.  I notice that they are crammed into the corner of the couch together.  And I smile.

Turning my head to my left, I see Lyric and Janna sitting side by side on our loveseat.  She’s not snuggled into his side, but I’m pretty sure they’re holding hands.  Even so, they’re managing to share a bag of popcorn.  He keeps feeding it to her.  Noel is sitting on the floor with Alastair and Abner.  They’re all munching on bowls of popcorn too.

Everyone seems to be having a good time.  I know I am.  This is right where I want to be.  Surrounded by my loving family.  And some kids who I’m hoping will become part of that family someday.  It feels like they already are.