Page 8 of Christmas Punch

My mouth watered. I’d skipped lunch and my stomach had been growling for the last hour.

“That sounds awesome. How can I help?”

An hour later I couldn’t help but be struck by how domestic things felt. Liz worked on heating the chili and making cornbread while I made a salad and set the table. By unspoken agreement, we kept our conversation to casual topics, chatting about the weather and the Broncos and our shared love of cross country skiing while we prepared dinner.

The wind was still howling and when I looked out the window, it looked like we’d gotten at least a foot of snow, maybe more.

When the food was done, we settled in to eat and the conversation turned to deeper topics.

“I should have asked, are you married? Is there a Mrs. Holly who’s going to be angry that you’re staying with some strange woman?”

I shook my head. “No, I’m not married. And there’s no one serious in my life right now.”

I’d never been married. I was a serial monogamist, but somehow none of my relationships seemed to make it past the one year mark.

“I’m divorced,” Liz offered.

I’d figured she was single given the lack of anything male in the apartment, but I was still unaccountably relieved to have it verified. I reminded myself that I wasn’t going to do anything with these inconvenient romantic feelings I had for Liz, feelings that had just grown over the course of the evening. I was already feeling like the nerdy freshman in love with the head cheerleader in high school – awkward and obviously smitten.

“What happened?” I asked before I did something stupid like ask if she believed in love at first sight.

“You don’t want to hear about all that.”

“Sure I do.”

She gave me a considering look. “Well, the short version is that my ex and I stayed married about fifteen years too long. At first we wanted to stay together for the kids, but then we were both too lazy to deal with getting a divorce. At least until he fell in love with someone who’s the same age as our daughter.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. But it’s all fine. He had to leave town – the residents here don’t take too kindly to someone cheating on their wife. We sold the business, and he used his half to buy me out of the house so he could move to Denver with the girlfriend. Then I sold the house to buy this building and open the café I’d always dreamed of.”

She leaned forward, her face earnest. “I told myself I wouldn’t badger you about the permit while you’re trapped here, but I’ll just ask you once more to actually read and consider the information I submitted to you today. See if it changes your mind. Please. I slipped it into your computer bag while you were in the bathroom earlier.”

This morning I would have said nothing would change my mind, but now I wasn’t sure about that.

“Okay, I promise I’ll read it.”

The brief flash of hope in her eyes about killed me. I could tell Liz was a woman who was passionate about everything, especially her business.

“Thanks. Now how about some dessert? I made an apple crumble yesterday.”

After dinner we both retired to our respective bedrooms. I watched a movie on my laptop until it was late enough to go to bed. I could hear Liz moving around in the apartment every now and then, but I stayed out of her way.

The next morning, I woke up surprisingly refreshed after a solid night of sleep. I was usually a shitty sleeper who woke up at every little noise, but it was so quiet here I slept straight through. I’d slept in sweatpants and a tee shirt I’d dug out of the “Robbie” bin and while they were a little snug, they fit pretty well.

The apartment was quiet, but Liz’s bedroom door was closed so I knew she was still here. I pulled a zippered hoodie over my shirt and padded barefoot into the kitchen, looking for food. I’d woken up ravenous for some reason. Liz had told me to make myself at home, so I figured I’d see what I could scrounge up for breakfast. It was the least I could do after she cooked for me last night.

A little while later Liz stumbled into the kitchen looking adorably rumpled. She was wearing flannel pajamas with Christmas trees on them, thick wool socks on her feet. Her hair was sticking out in all directions and there was a crease on her cheek from her pillow.

“Oh!” Liz stopped dead when she saw me sliding pancakes off the griddle and onto a plate. “Um, good morning. I forgot you were here.”

That stung my ego a bit because I couldn’t get her out of my mind. Liz looked me up and down, her eyes lingering for an instant on my snug grey sweatpants. I willed my dick to stay down.

“I hope it’s okay, you said to make myself at home, so I thought I’d make us breakfast.”

Her face broke out in a smile.

“You made me breakfast?” she said in the stunned tone of a person who didn’t often have people doing nice things for them.