How To Bake The Perfect Christmas Cake

“Sure thing, right this way.” She motions come hither to us. We follow behind her as she navigates a straight path to the window overlooking the harbor. I’ll never get tired of seeing this. There are a few sailboats in the water and a brave kayaker. He appears to have on a full wetsuit, but still it’s got to be at least forty degrees outside and next to the water it’s always chillier. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to fall in.

I slide into my chair and pick up the menu in front of me. I’m starving.

“Two coffees, please.” Jack says to the hostess.

“Anything for you, honey, I’ll send your waitress right over.” She stands in front of our table for a second too long.

I roll my eyes at my menu.

“What’s on your mind?” Jack cocks his head to the right.

“Nothing but food.” Obviously I’m not going to mention Miss. Flirty-pants, this would only make me seem insecure, which I am not.

“Me too. I read online they have creamy lemon ricotta pancakes.” Jack wiggles his eyebrows at me.

I laugh and nod my head. “Sounds tasty, I think I’m going to go with my favorite Hang Me Over My Yammies and Patties.”

“Do you have a hangover?” Jack’s eyebrows furrow.

“No, do you?” I raise one eyebrow at him and purse my lips.

“A couple of glasses of wine is not enough to give me one.” Jack reaches for my hand. “I do have a different type of hangover though.”

The sides of my mouth pull up. “Oh really, what’s that?’

“A Lauren hangover.” His eyes are flickering at me.

“Hmm…Well, a hangover is usually a bad thing.”

“It might be, but I don’t want a cure.” Jack pulls my hand to his mouth and kisses my knuckles.

“Two coffees?” A curly redhead is holding two steaming cups in front of us.

“Yes, please.” Rescued by coffee, that was a close one. “Could I have some cream, please?”

“Sure, what can I get you for breakfast?” She grabs out a pen and takes down our order and trots away towards the back of the restaurant.

“So what’s a typical day like here for you?” Jack pries into my eyes.

“A typical Saturday?” I furrow my eyes. Surely Jack doesn’t want to hear about my weekend errands and blue moon excursions with Brianna.

“Any day, I want to know more about you and your world.” Jack taps me underneath the table with his foot. I’m not sure if this is an attempt at footsies, an accident, or cue for me to spill my boring daily life with him.

“Oh, well on Friday I was offered a huge promotion at work.” My shoulders rise and fall, thinking about the offer makes me a bit nervous but extremely proud. This is the biggest promotion I have ever received.

“Wow, Lauren, congratulations! That’s great news. What does the new promotion entail?” Jack is grinning from ear to ear.

“Well, I’m going to have my own team to manage and I get to select them myself, which is pretty cool.”

The waitress returns with my cream and places it down next to me without a word, she must be one of those hands-off servers. “Thank you.” I manage to say as her back is turned to me. Oh well, I tried to be polite.

“That’s fantastic. Do you have candidates lined up?” Jack takes a sip of his coffee.

“I’ve got my eyes on a few people, but I don’t have to choose anyone until January.” I drizzle a few drops of cream into my cup and stir it with the silver spoon.

Jack nods his head. “I’ve got my eyes on some new candidates as well.”

“For the retirement home?” I squint my eyes.

“No, it’s a special project I’m trying to get off the ground.” Jack raises his cup to me.

“With your architecture firm?” Where is Jack going with this?

“No, it’s more of a personal project, not exactly job related.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He glances at the face. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to take this. If the food arrives, please go ahead and begin.” He stands up and walks towards the exit. The door opens, but I’m sure they aren’t seating anyone on the deck due to the temperature.

I pull out my own phone from my purse and tap on the display. As I figured, I’ve got several text messages. My phone was on vibrate since last night. I don’t like to sleep with the ringer on in case anyone decides to reach me in the wee hours of Saturday morning.

The first text message is from Brianna: So…deets. Give me the scoop.

Ten minutes after that is a second message: Seriously, are you still in bed?

Five minutes later, a third message: Oh, I see…this is how you’re going to play this? Not cool. Take a mini-make-out break and run to the bathroom and call me.

I text back: We are at breakfast, I’ll call you later.

I text once more: Remember, patience is a virtue.

Brianna texts back: So is decency, you shouldn’t make me wait. ;)

I roll my eyes. As if Brianna would be dialing up my number while hanging out with Owen. The final message is from Megan.

“Did you get your tickets yet?”

Crap. I need to get them. I pull up my airfare app and search through the fares. My eyes can’t bulge out any further. The prices have literally doubled since the last time I checked. Arghh. I shake my head. I shouldn’t have put this off, what a mistake. I scan all of the airports near me in Baltimore and Austin to see if I can come up with some crazy combo flight to save a few hundred dollars. All the prices are the same. Well, that’s fabulous. I rummage through my purse and grab my faded leather wallet and take out my credit card. Gulp. Good thing I’m getting a promotion. I shut down the app after sending an email confirmation to myself.

I type back to Megan: Yes, I fly in on the nineteenth. See you at the airport?

My phone shakes in my hand. Megan has filled up the text box with every possible happy face emoticon, along with a wine glass, party hat with streamers, Santa, Frosty, and a Christmas tree.

I grin as I type back with the plane emoticon and the two ballerina girls, this is the emoticon we use to represent ourselves. She immediately responds with a winking emoticon blowing a heart smooch.

The waitress returns to the table with two steaming dishes in her hands. “All right, please be careful, these plates are hot.” She sets them down and walks away. I giggle to myself, thinking about the hot plates skit on SNL. Jack is pacing on the deck and waving his hand around back and forth. I know he said to go ahead and eat and I’m starving but I think it would be rude to begin without him. I pick up my coffee and take a sip.

Who could he be talking to on a Saturday morning so furiously? I hope it’s not more bad news with Vintage Estates. He turns around and we make eye contact. I raise my eyebrows at him. He motions with his index finger in the air. Surely it won’t be longer than one more moment, I don’t think my stomach will make it. The cream in the coffee is barely enough to keep me from passing out. I glance back at the window and Jack is making his way towards me. I pat my tummy. Almost.

“Don’t you just love it when you come back to the table and find your food waiting for you?” Jack winks at me.

“I think you mean coming back from the bathroom, except in your case it would be the deck.” I raise my eyebrow to him. I can quote from Pulp Fiction any day of the week.