All the food was done, except the fish, which I’d do shortly, and the dessert, which I would do fresh before serving. We had showered again—separately, because oh, my God, Reed, don’t tempt me, we do not have time—dressed, and made any last-minute tweaks to the house decorations, and we’d done all we could do.

Em and her boyfriend Christian arrived first. She was wearing a shirt that said ‘I’m on Santa’s naughty list’ and Christian wore a shirt with ‘Santa’s naughty list’ and a big arrow pointing down to his crotch.

Did I mention I had insisted on a comedic shirt theme? Yeah, no one else was surprised either.

I read the shirt, gasped, then squealed, then asked Reed, “Why didn’t we think of that?” Then I pretend-whispered to Em. “Reed has a very big naughty list.”

Reed rolled his eyes, but Em laughed and pointed up to the mistletoe I had attached to a headband so it sat above my head. I preened a little, then puckered up and Em planted a kiss on my lips. I blushed and had to fan my face dramatically, but when it was Christian’s turn, I pointed to my cheek. “There are mistletoe rules.”

Christian went bright red but he good-naturedly gave me a kiss on the cheek while Em pulled Reed in for a kiss on his cheek as well. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” He grinned at her shirt. “Love it.”

“Oh.” She laughed and pretended not to be embarrassed. “Knew I had to do something to compete with you guys.”

Then she noticed what Reed was wearing, and laughed some more. He wore a blue knitted vest with no shirt, because he was Reed and could wear whatever he damn well wanted and still look a million dollars. It was summer, after all, but on the vest were two knitted reindeer fucking. “I love it,” Em said.

“Thanks,” he said, grinning. “I do too.”

Then Christian noticed my shirt. It said, ‘Come on in, my chimney’s always open’. Probably a little crude, but I’d laughed when I first saw it online. Christian went three shades of red, and Reed slung his arm around me and laughed.

“Oh, my God, Henry,” Em said with a whistle, looking around the room. “This looks incredible.”

I had to admit, my house looked like an expensive Christmas decoration catalogue had vomited on every conceivable space. It had taken me weeks to get it looking so close to perfect, adding bits and pieces as I went. Reed hadn’t even rolled his eyes with each new addition. He’d just given me his eye-crinkling smile and a kiss to the side of my head like he found everything I did adorable.

A lesser man would have run screaming, but he got me. No explanations.

I’d gone with a silver and blue colour scheme, and the Christmas tree looked like the lovechild of the tree from Martin Place and the Griswolds’ tree from National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.

Reed gave me a squeeze. “Henry did everything,” he said proudly.

“Well,” I started to correct him then checked my watch. It was half past four. Anika was late. “The table isn’t complete yet. I have a centrepiece coming but Anika’s late and I’m considering never forgiving her. I believe best-friend contracts have being late clauses, and hers is now up for renegotiation.”

Another knock at the door and I almost forgave Anika on the spot, until I opened the door and saw it wasn’t her. It was Lachie and his girlfriend Moo.

Yes, Moo.

I highly doubted that was her actual name, and when Reed had first told me Lachie’d found himself a girlfriend, he’d said her name was Moo and offered me no further explanation. Surely her parents hadn’t burdened her with it. Well, I certainly hoped they hadn’t. And I’d like to think it wasn’t a nickname reflective of her personality. Maybe she did cow impersonations when she was drunk. Maybe she had breasts like udders, I really had no clue.

Reed, it appeared, had the manners to greet them while I stood there scowling at the fact it wasn’t Anika and the fact I was now picturing breasts with weird udder-like teats, wondering how on earth one brassiered those suckers.

“Come in,” Reed said, ushering them inside. “Henry? You okay?”

“Yes, of course,” I said, shaking the image of a bra that looked like a rubber glove out of my head. “Sorry, I was expecting Anika.”

“Henry, this is Moo,” Reed said, introducing me to the unfortunately-named girl. I was pleased to realise her name didn’t come from her breasts and I tried really hard not to say that out loud.

“It’s nice to meet you!” I said, giving myself a mental high-five for not saying something horrifyingly embarrassing.

Moo was bright and bubbly, and clearly as fit and healthy as Lachie and Reed and Em; and I thought I recalled Reed saying she was a personal trainer like them as well. “And you. Thanks for inviting us. Your place looks amazing.” She eyed the living room with something that looked like wonder. I was about to ask her what was up with her name when Lachie held out the hem of his shirt so Reed could read it.

Reed let out a bark of a laugh. “That’s a good one.”

Then Moo did the same to her shirt, and Reed snorted. Moo grinned proudly.

Lachie’s shirt read ‘jingle my bells’ with a picture of two bells and a phallic candy cane, and Moo’s had a picture of Santa giving it to Rudolf much like Reed had given it to me over the dining table earlier. Rudolf certainly seemed to be enjoying it, by the smile and way his nose glowed red. ‘All I want for Christmas’ was scrawled underneath it.

All righty, then.

We chatted for a while, but I soon found myself back in the kitchen. Reed played perfect host while I prepared the fish. I’d ground down some salt and spices with lemon rind in my mortar and pestle and set about rubbing that into the silvery skin. I faced the fish away from me so its beady little judgemental eyes stared at the wall.

I heard another knock at the door and sighed with relief, assuming it was Anika. She’d have some story about traffic, or how Sean forgot something and they had to go back for it, when everyone knew it was her who’d forgotten it and Sean was adept at taking one for the team.

But it wasn’t Anika at the door. It was Melinda.

She came into the kitchen, her tiny frame belied by her huge presence. She wore her trademark tartan pleated skirt, long socks and school-like shoes, but with a t-shirt that read ‘Christmas is the secularisation and commercialisation of religion, breeding a culture of glutton and deterioration’.

I read it and smiled. “You know, writing ‘Fuck you’ would have been so much quicker.”

She smirked and her John Lennon-style glasses lifted on her cheeks. “Probably.” She looked around the kitchen. “Need a hand with anything?”

“Nope. All under control, thank you.”

She watched me finish rubbing the fish. “Did the fish consent to that?”

I looked down at my salt-covered hands. “It paid extra for it. I don’t give salt rubs to just anyone.”

Melinda snorted. “Anika not here yet?”

I groaned. “No, she’s late. She’s probably holding my table centrepiece hostage because she knows how much I needed it. My table looks naked, and I’m in the market for a new best friend.”

Melinda acted like my ranting was normal. She was used to me, after years of being my personal assistant. “She’s never late and you’ll never find a new best friend like her because no one could deal with your level of crazy, Henry.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Just because we’re not actually at work and you’re not being paid to be here doesn’t mean you can speak the truth. You know the rules. If it’s not flattering, lie to me.”

Now she laughed. “I’ll never lie to you, Henry.”

“I know.” I rolled my eyes. “I should write it into your workplace agreement. Mandatory fabrication of truths for the sake of flattery.”

“Would you pay me more?”

“No.”

“Then it’s a moot subject.”

I sighed. “I hate that I can’t function without you.”

The smirk was back. “Yes, you can. Just not as efficiently.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“No problem. I have to say, something in here smells divine. Your whole house smells incredible, actually.”

“Thank you. The menu has some eclectic flavours. Hope everyone likes it.”

“I’m sure they’ll love it.”

“What’s the time?”

“Five.”

“Shit.”

She clearly knew where my mind had gone. “Have you tried calling her?”

“She hung up on me before,” I admitted. “I might have been having a little moment. Maybe she’s not coming at all. Maybe she’s searching the internet looking for a new best friend. One who doesn’t demand she order table centrepieces from Melbourne.”

Melinda knew what my little moments were like. I didn’t have to tell her exactly how the conversation had gone down.

“What if she’s been in an accident?” I whispered.

“Give me your phone,” Melinda said, just as my phone beeped. A message on my screen from Anika read, On our way now. Sorry.

I had the sneaking suspicion that Sean sent that, for reasons I couldn’t explain. Except for the huge neon-flashing reason that in all the years I’d known Anika, she’d never once apologised to me. For anything.

Melinda read the message and frowned. Yep. Something was definitely wrong. But then Melinda shook it off, looked brightly around the kitchen and smiled at me. “Tell me what I can do to help.”

“You could pour me a drink.”

Melinda grinned. “That I can do.”

She found my wine in the fridge and poured us both a generous glass. She kept me company while I pan-seared the fish on both sides, crisping up the skin. When that was done, I slid it into the oven to finish cooking just in time to hear a knock at the door.

I heard Reed’s greeting and the gentle murmur of Anika and Sean’s “hellos” and “merry Christmases” as they met everyone else in the living room. Melinda squeezed my arm and I couldn’t explain the relief. I stuck my head around the door as Sean was placing the table centrepiece in its spot on the table and Anika made her way over to me.

Instead of a hello, or a merry Christmas, or even a kiss on the cheek, she gave me an uneasy grunt and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. And, instead of looking the million dollars she normally looked, she looked stressed and unwell. My annoyance at her tardiness was long forgotten. “Honey, are you feeling okay?”

Another non-committal noise, like the reminder of her well-being made her stomach roll. “Ugh.”

“Let me get you a soda spritzer. Some sliced lemon will fix you right up,” I said, disappearing back into the kitchen. I set about pouring her a tall glass of soda water and adding ice and some sliced lemon I’d been going to place around the finished barramundi. I handed it to her. “Here you go.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” she said, taking a sip.

Sean slid his arm around her waist and gave me a smile. “Sorry we’re late.”

I waved him off. “It’s fine.” I was more worried about Anika, to be honest. “Sweetie, just how was your staff Christmas party last night?”

She groaned again and rolled her eyes in response. That was the only answer I got. Something was definitely wrong, but I didn’t exactly have time for it. I was trying to get the Christmas dinner of the year organised and I was in a fluster because the table centrepiece had been missing until just now, though I was pretty sure now wasn’t a good time to bring that up. So, with a flourish I didn’t rightly feel, I waved my hand. “Dinner will be served in about ten minutes. Go in and make yourselves comfortable.”

Anika looked at me like she just might cry. She leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Love you, Henry.”

Sean ushered her out of the kitchen, leaving me staring at the doorway, gaping like the fish I had in the oven.

Shit, the fish!

Grabbing the oven mitts, I pulled the barramundi out of the oven and, thankfully, it wasn’t burned. Actually, it looked kind of perfect. I slid it onto the stovetop just as Reed came into the kitchen.

He put his arm around my shoulder and the both of us stared at the barramundi. “Everything okay?” he asked. “Is it still being a judgemental bastard?”

“Not anymore,” I replied flatly. “Something’s wrong with Anika.”

Reed turned me so I faced him and he cupped my jaw in both his huge hands. “I’m sure she’ll tell you all about it when she’s ready. She always does.”

That was an odd thing for him to say. “Do you know what it is?”

“No. But I know she loves you.”

I sighed. “You’re doing that perfect thing again.”

He grinned and planted a soft kiss to my lips. “Need me to carry anything out to the table?”

I totally wasn’t done with him kissing me but considering we had guests in the next room, I conceded. “Yes, please.”

So, with everything served on my fanciest platters and bowls, we carried all the food to the table. “Dinner is served,” I declared.

Everyone took their seats, with eyes wide at all the food and the world’s most incredible table centrepiece. “Wow, Henry,” Em said.

“This looks amazing,” Lachie added.

“You’ve outdone yourself,” Sean said with a smile.

Reed took his seat beside me. “Wait!” He shot up from the table and dashed into the kitchen. I stood up too, wondering what on earth I’d forgotten. All sauces were in their tiny pouring jugs, serving spoons were artfully placed in all the dishes, everyone had drinks…

He came back in and stood in front of me, with a sheepish look on his face. “Henry takes his ring off when he cooks and cleans,” he told everyone. I noticed then, he was holding my engagement ring. My heart clenched, just like it did every time he did this.

“Henry,” Reed said softly. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Will you marry me?”

Someone at the table squeaked but I didn’t look to see who it was. I couldn’t take my eyes off Reed. I looked into his gorgeous face, his incredible eyes and the beautiful soul within them. “Of course I will,” I replied.

A round of applause exploded at the table and Reed kissed me with smiling lips. I did that blush-swoony thing I was helpless to stop, and took my seat, flustered and pink-cheeked.

Moo had her hands to her face, hiding a smile, but her eyes were wide. I was pretty sure it was her who’d squeaked. I realised then that she thought he’d just asked me for the very first time. I sipped my wine. “He asks me again every time I put it back on. Even if I’ve just washed the dishes.”

“Awww,” she cried, doing some weird happy-frown thing with her face. “That’s so sweet!”

I slid my hand over Reed’s. “Yes, he is.”

Moo’s happy-frown thing deepened. “And you say yes every time, right?”

I answered her question looking right at Reed. “A million times if I have to.”

Reed leaned over in his chair and kissed my cheek, and when I looked across the table, I saw that Anika was teary-eyed again and sipping her soda water as a distraction.

Melinda noticed as well, and before I could react, she spoke loudly to navigate the conversation. “Henry, care to explain the menu?”

Right, yes. The menu. Food. The food I’d spent weeks planning and hours preparing. I cleared my throat and pointed at each dish. “Orange-glazed ham. Spiced fig salad. Peach, lime and chilli salad. Linguine salad with bocconcini and lemon vinaigrette. Spanakopita tarts with roasted cherry tomatoes, and the pièce de résistance, crispy skinned barramundi with quince jus.”

“Why is its face covered?” Moo asked. I was beginning to wonder if her social skills were worse than mine.

“Because it was a judgemental bastard with its beady little eyes,” I answered.

Anika snorted into her soda water and we made eye contact. She smiled at me like she always did, and something clicked back into place inside me.