Pretending to Be Andersen

Christmas Day

I woke up Christmas morning before the sun to get started on the feast that would be enjoyed today. I was mildly excited to finally be able to use the Andersen's kitchen to its full potential but it was hard to call on that excitement when I felt so tired.  

     As I passed Vincent's door in the hall, I was reminded of my breakdown two days ago and the fact that I still hadn't talked about it with anyone.  

     I walked a little faster, wanting the distraction of cooking to kick in.  

     One gigantic goose and ham sat in each of the two refrigerators, waiting to be prepared and stuffed into the two large ovens. Two sacks of red and purple potatoes sat on the floor of the pantry, ready to be peeled and chopped and tossed into boiling water. Heaps of asparagus sat in the crisping drawers, waiting to be trimmed and cooked. Covered dough--made just last night--was rising on the counter, still needing to be buttered and put in the oven.  

     The list of things that needed to be done seemed to grow the more I thought about it.  

     The ham would be the first to get out of the way. The preparations were mind-numbing as my hands worked from memory to create a feast every Andersen descendant would love. Hours were lost moving down the list to slowly eliminate everything.  

     When Uncle Marcus came stumbling, zombie-like, into the kitchen, I knew it had been at least three hours since I woke up. He walked toward the cabinet that housed the mugs.  

     "Did you start without me?" Uncle Marcus questioned through a yawn.  

     I started the coffee. "Just got some things started...," I admitted.  

     The scent of fresh brewing coffee filled the kitchen, overpowering some of the smells that were already marinating since I started.  

     The effects on Uncle Marcus were almost instant. His eyes opened wider as he took in everything around him.  

     "Just got some things started?" He looked in the ovens at the ham and goose and then to the counter where various other little things were started. "Jasmine, if it weren't for the fact that the main dishes have so much more time to go, dinner would nearly be ready!"  

     I laughed. "Not even! You think I would risk having cold food? Dinner will not be ready until three o'clock, I'm sure of that."  

     He shook his head. "Why don't you go get ready for the day? I'm surprised the kids aren't up yet, begging to open presents. I'll look after things in here." Uncle Marcus poured a cup of coffee. 

     I looked around the kitchen one last time. "I guess I can do that," I agreed.  

     On my way back to my room, I ran into Vincent. Literally. My cheek collided with his bicep and I nearly fell over into the door frame. Vincent caught me, though, his firm hands holding my shoulders just so.  

     My face reddened as I noticed what little clothing my boyfriend actually had on. Boxers were all. I tried to concentrate on his face--no longer covered with the scruffy beard.  

     "Oh, good morning," Vincent greeted with a smile. "You are up early."  

     I laughed as he set me back upright, glancing over him again. "Yeah, I started Christmas dinner," I told him. "Uncle Marcus told me to go get ready for presents."  

     Vincent looked at his watch. "Yeah, everyone will be up very soon." He appeared to wrestle with some idea in his mind. "I... I want to give you your gift from me before we exchange presents with the rest of the family. I'll meet you back in your room in about five minutes, okay?"