How To Bake The Perfect Christmas Cake

“So the person is a guy and you aren’t going home because of him?” Owen asks, eyebrows pushed together.

“I know after I said it out loud…I realize how ridiculous that sounds.” I shake my hair back and laugh. From the corner of my eye I steal a glance at the wall, the guy is gone.

“Yeah, it does sound ridiculous, but what happened? What did he do that was so bad that would make you not want to see your family at Christmas?” Owen runs his hands through his hair.

“Well, he was supposed to come see me a few weeks ago, and then he didn’t.” Where is Brianna? This is taking far too long.

“Maybe something came up. Did he contact you at all?” Owen grabs a hold of a waiter that is walking by.

“Seven and Seven and two Holidaytinis.” He hands the waiter his card.

What is taking Brianna this long? She should be sitting here with Owen, not me.

“Maybe I should go and check on Brianna, she’s been gone for a while.” I stand up.

Owen nods and pulls out his phone.

I march over to the bar. There isn’t an open seat. I peer through the crowd of people searching for any sign of Brianna. A warm hand latches onto my arm and pulls me away from the crowd. I cast my eyes down at the hand and then follow it all the way to the pressed button-down shirt of a guy. A guy with sandy-blond hair and piercing blue eyes. Eyes that draw me in. It’s Jack. Jack?

“Jack, what are you doing here?” I shake my arm out of his embrace.

“I came to see you.” Jack grabs for my hand. Here he is, standing in front of me. Am I going nuts? I take him in, all of him. Here he is, in the flesh, with those same sparking blue eyes with flecks of green. They are staring back at me, searching for a response.

“Okay.” My lips are trying to form words, sentences, questions, something.

“Lauren, I’m sorry about before. I didn’t want to call or text, I wanted to ‒ I needed to talk to you about it in person. That’s why I’m here.” He gathers my body in towards his. His shirt is soft against my skin, his arms are strong around my waist, pulling me in closer to him. I inhale and his minty scent mixed with apples and sandalwood rises up, awakening my senses. These emotions can’t simply be swiped away.

“Let’s get out of here.” Jack leads me towards the exit and I begin to follow.

“I can’t.” I pause and search the crowd for Brianna.

“Why? Are you on a date?” Jack’s chest pumps out and a vein begins to throb on the side of his throat.

I smile. “Yes, I am…” I wait a second as his eyebrows furrow. “With my friend Brianna, that’s her boyfriend, Owen, over there.” I point to the table where Owen is sitting at alone. His drink and the two Holidaytinis have arrived, but not Brianna.

“I see.” Jack says.

“Come on, I want to introduce you to them.” I pull him over towards the table. Even though I’m not technically dragging him, the weight of his body is cumbersome as I lead the way, he is putting up a bit of a resistance in his step. He is not coming over easily. Reminds me of how my niece Winter drags her heels when we have somewhere important to go and she isn’t finished playing with her dolls.

“Hey, Owen, this is Jack.” I raise my eyebrows at Owen. Hopefully, he will understand who Jack is and not out me for my earlier wallowing.

The guys exchange greetings as I head for the bar to find Brianna. Where could she be? I peek in between the crowded people to see if I can get a spot of her. Absolutely no signs, not even her signature laughter. I make my way to the end of the bar and lock eyes on a glimpse of her small frame. She is closed in behind two big NFL football player types. I try to push through but I am unable to get them to budge. I pry my head in between the cracks of their arms.

“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 (#ulink_50db176b-6a2e-51a8-a7eb-a5b3f27a709e)

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.”