Chapter 36
“That’s him!” Felicity dashed from the kitchen. Nell took a deep breath and followed more slowly. She had only reached the entrance to the living room when Felicity flung open the door to admit Eric Manville.
“Hi!” Felicity cried. “Hi!”
“You might want to ask him in.” Molly, who had been sitting on the couch with a book, joined her sister at the door.
Felicity stepped back hurriedly. “Right, come in!”
Eric did. Molly extended her hand. “I’m Molly,” she said. “And the person jumping around behind me is Felicity.”
“This is just so exciting,” Felicity said, extending her hand as well.
Nell smiled fondly. Eric was wearing his puffer coat and that awful green hat. “I told you they were fans,” she said. “How are you feeling?”
“Right as rain,” Eric said. “I forgot to ask what I could bring, but I figured I couldn’t go wrong with champagne and chocolate.”
Molly relieved Eric of his coat and hat and then accepted the gift bag from which two champagne bottles peeked. Felicity accepted the box of candy wrapped in gold paper and tied with a green ribbon.
Eric looked from the massive tree to the crèche, from the gingerbread house to the row of candles on the mantel of the fireplace, from the bowl of ribbon candy to the garland decorating the handrail of the stairs. “Wow,” he said. “It’s like a winter wonderland in here.”
Felicity laughed. “Or like a specialty Christmas shop exploded! Mom went a little crazy with the decorations this year. And with the baking. I think a few of my teeth have rotted out.”
“She mentioned the baking,” Eric told her. “Maybe I shouldn’t have brought chocolates.”
“No!” Felicity cried, hugging the box to her chest.
“Is it totally not okay to ask you to autograph my copy of The Land of Joy?” Molly requested.
“It totally is okay,” Eric assured her.
The doorbell sounded again. This time it was Jill, bearing a promised bowl of mashed potatoes and turnips and a green-bean-with-almonds casserole. After Nell had eased her friend of her burdens, she introduced her to Eric.
“I saw you the other evening at the Bookworm,” Eric noted as he shook Jill’s hand. “You were sitting with Nell.”
“That’s right. I’m a fan of your work.”
“Thank you. I—”
“Hey, Eric,” Felicity interrupted. “Do you want to help me make the gravy?”
“He’s a guest, Fliss,” Molly pointed out. “He’s here to enjoy himself.”
“I’m happy to help in any way I can,” Eric said. “Lead on.” After taking Jill’s contributions from Nell, Eric followed Felicity to the kitchen.
“Well, Felicity already seems to consider him part of the family,” Jill whispered. Before Nell could reply, the doorbell rang for a third time.
“I’ll get it.” Molly hurried to the front door. Nell was sure her daughter was hoping the visitor would be Mick, but when Molly opened the door it was to find Stuart Smith standing on the welcome mat. With his wool beanie and big brown beard he looked a bit like Yukon Cornelius, prospector and friend of the Abominable Snowman.
“Please tell me my mother is here,” he said. “I went to her place, and when I found it empty I got a little freaked.”
“Hey, Stuart. Come in, she’s here.”
Stuart strode toward his mother and embraced her.
“What on earth are you doing here?” Jill cried. “Never mind, you’re here and that’s all that matters.”
When Stuart finally let his mother go, he held out the bag he was carrying. “I brought a cheese ball.”
Nell relieved him of his package and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Hello, Stuart. It’s good to see you.”
“How did you get through?” Jill asked. “The news reports say that a big stretch of Route One is closed.”
“With difficulty.” Stuart took his mother’s hand in his. “I’m sorry, Mom. I shouldn’t have made other plans when I know spending Christmas together means so much to you—and to me. Especially this first Christmas without Brian.”
Jill nodded. “Thank you, Stuart. So, what’s become of the girlfriend? Sherry? Brandy? Whiskey?”
“Taffy. I gave her the airline tickets and she went off with a friend. I don’t think I’ll be seeing her again. But that’s okay. It was nothing serious. I shouldn’t have been wasting my time or hers.” Stuart turned to Nell. “So, is it okay if I join you for dinner?”
“Of course,” Nell told him. “The more the merrier.”
“I’m grateful for your hospitality. And frankly, I could use a home-cooked meal. I’m useless in the kitchen, and the women I date don’t seem to have any interest in feeding me.”
Jill patted her son’s arm. “You should let me pick your next lady friend.”
Stuart sighed. “I might take you up on that offer, Mom. I don’t seem to be doing very well on my own.”
Eric suddenly came into the living room, Felicity closely trailing behind. He was wearing one of the aprons Nell had bought for the girls. “What’s all the excitement?” he asked.
“Eric,” Nell said, restraining a laugh at the sight of the apron and the smudge of flour on Eric’s cheek. “This is Jill’s son, Stuart.”
Eric came forward and extended his hand. “Eric Manville. Nice to meet you.”
“The Eric Manville?” Stuart asked, giving Eric’s hand a shake.
“If by that you mean am I the one who writes books, yeah, that’s me.”
“Wow,” Stuart said. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a famous writer in person before.”
“As you can see we’re pretty unremarkable in the flesh. Except for when we’re wearing aprons decorated with bunnies and foxes. I was working on the gravy.”
“Stuart brought a cheese ball,” Nell told Eric, whose eyes lit up at the news.
“Good man. So, where is it?”
Jill laughed. “I’ll put it out and pop open a bottle of champagne.”
Everyone followed Jill to the kitchen, where Stuart offered to take on any chore Nell set him to; Molly leaned against a counter and stared down at her phone, no doubt in the hope that Mick was reaching out to her; and Felicity chatted with Eric as he continued to work on the gravy. Nell smiled as she watched them all. She wondered what other miracles could possibly be in store for them this Christmas Day. Please God, she thought. Let it be the miracle Molly is praying for.