Breakfast was by chance at eleven. Everyone seemed to appreciate that these were the easy days before Olivia and Lee had children; before Violet had in-laws of her own to please. The smell of the roasting wood in the fireplace made looking out the window at the snowy world outside more blissful, but it was the electric heat from the kitchen stove that penetrated thick socks and brand new fuzzy slippers gathered around the table.
Byron March shuddered as Lee mashed jam into his eggs. Violet cringed at her mother drizzling her maple syrup over her entire plate. Olivia peeled the fat away from her own bacon, leaving her with salty red toothpick strips. The Court Jester played on the countertop mini television. Byron raised the volume with a, "Watch, guys. Watch this part," as Danny Kaye was about to be knighted at a hilarious speed. Violet ate a muffin and toast, heavy on the butter.
Unexpectedly, the doorbell rang.
"Don't you dare," Evelyn warned Byron. He cocked an ear, his eyebrows danced.
All knew that the man of the house would be way too curious to ignore the intrusion. He loved a good chastisement and it wasn't every Boxing Day that someone volunteered on the doorstep to let him let them have it.
"Oh, honey," Evelyn pleaded. But it was no use. Byron's eyes were gleaming.
"It's a little late for cooked goose," he said, licking his chops.
"It's right on time for sitting duck," said Violet.
Her father was gone long enough for Lee to steal Olivia's bacon fat and for her mother to fuss with her robe and prepare another frozen orange juice. Violet and Olivia strained to hear the conversation going on in the foyer over the tap's running water and gave up all together as Evelyn's stirring spoon clanged against the sides of the pitcher.
Byron returned smiling with satisfaction. He rubbed his palms together and sat, picking up with his eggs where he left off.
"Well, who was it?" Evelyn asked.
"It's the cops," he said succinctly. They're looking for Violet."
"Seriously, Daddy," Olivia groaned.
Violet har-harred.
Evelyn wiped her hands on a towel. "Who wants orange juice?"
"Seriously, Violet. Officer Gleason is waiting for you."
Violet stared at him nervously. "That's it?" Her father nodded. "You can't just say, 'it's the cops' and send me out there!"
"Oh, yes I can."
"I'm in my jammies."
"You're decent."
Lee said, "You'd better change in case they take you to the station."
"Very funny, Lee."
"It is downtown," Byron shrugged.
"Byron, you're a scream. Knock it off," his wife scolded him.
"She'll be right there, Hank!" he yelled.
"Take him some muffins," her mother said, hurrying to gather a few in a cloth napkin.
"Mom!"
"I forgot to write their Christmas card."
She swiped the muffins before her mother could tie off a quick ribbon around the napkin knot. "Promise me you'll visit me," Violet said. She trudged out of the kitchen still thinking it was a joke. When she got to the foyer, Hank Gleason, a policeman her family had become familiar with since moving into the neighbourhood, was waiting.
"Good morning, Violet," he said upbeat.
"I hope so. Is everything okay?"
"Do you know a John Finch?"
"Yes I do," she answered a bit stunned.
"Well is this him?"
The officer opened the door and there in the back seat of his parked patrol car was John looking both hassled and relieved.
Gleason took Violet's surprised smile as positive identification. He strolled down the front walkway and let John out.
"Now, before you say you've never seen me before in your life –" John began.
"That's him," Violet confirmed unable to hide her joy.
"Found him lurking around your sister's place," Gleason said. "Can't be too careful about stalkers."
John shook hands with the officer as they swapped places. "Thanks for the ride," he said.
"Glad I didn't have to cuff you. You and your family enjoy the rest of your day now, Violet."
"Say hi to Joanie for us," said Violet, almost forgetting the muffins. "Happy New Year."
Violet shut the door. Alone in the front hall, all Violet could do was stare at John in disbelief. "What are you doing here?" she asked hopefully.
"Just so we're clear..." John leaned in and kissed her sweetly, perfectly.
"How dare you?" Violet whispered breathlessly.
"Oh-ho!" John laughed, grabbing her playfully by the collar. Then Violet returned the kiss quickly before he brought her face back to his and kissed away months of misunderstanding for good. They held each other happily.
"Elsa?" he asked. "Are you nuts? I told you we weren't dating."
"You didn't really," Violet said.
A look of puzzled amusement crossed his face. "I thought I did." Violet shrugged sheepishly. "I knew something was up! She harassed me into dragging her to that party. I thought she was shopping for a sugar-daddy or something."
"She told me you were sleeping together."
"She told me you were pocketing the dance money and had your hand down Bob's pants! I told her you would never steal. All lies, Violet." He paused to be sure she knew he was telling the truth. "I could never be with someone like that and if I'd known that's why you were upset...is it bad to say I would've been over the moon about it?"
Violet's blush gave her every desire away. "I didn't know what to think. It was a confusing goodbye."
He held her closer to him, his tenderness a comfort.
"I guess I didn't want to say the wrong thing," he admitted. "We've had trouble in the communication department, or haven't you noticed?"
"Then tell me, what's John-speak for 'kiss me again'?"
A handsome smile answered her first. Violet had never been happier. "It's 'C'mere'," he said.
They kissed again, deeply, as if from then on their lips should always gravitate towards each other's when not otherwise engaged.
"I'm really glad you called," he said. He smelled her hair. "Are you wearing maple syrup?"
"Yes."
"I'm starving."
"Come in," she said trying to lead him but he resisted.
"No. Listen, I know you're with your family and I don't want to interrupt. I wanted to get here as soon as I could but I've been on a plane for a day and a half and I look it. This is not how I usually make an entrance."
"Were you really spying in my sister's windows?"
"I thought it would be more romantic to speak to you in person, so I just said I needed a few days for the holidays and ran to the airport. When I got to your place, you weren't home. I bribed the concierge in your building and he gave me your sister's address from your emergency contacts file. You weren't there either and I just so happened to be double-checking by peeking in the windows when one of the neighbours must have called the cops. Getting arrested is not really the first impression I want to give to your folks."
"I think that's the sweetest confession I ever heard."
"Everything all right out there, Violet?" her father called.
Quickly, John said, "I'll come back later to get you when I'm more respectable."
"But this is the John I want them to meet. The one who came back for me now."
"As early as I could, did I mention that?"
"Come on."
Violet lead John by the hand into the kitchen. He fidgeted by her side as she announced a little bashfully, "Guys, this is John."
"Hi, John!" the foursome at the table rang out.
Evelyn jumped up and pulled over a spare chair from the corner. "We serve breakfast 'til one on holidays, John. Can I fix you anything?"
John squeezed Violet's hand a bit overwhelmed. "Just a coffee would be great, Mrs. March. Thank you."
"Scrambled eggs you say? Coming right up," Evelyn said. John smiled and hung his coat on the back of his chair.
"You missed a heckuva feast last night," Byron said.
"He was in Australia, Dad," Olivia said.
"John, you remember my sister Olivia. Dad's Byron, Mom's Evelyn and this is my brother-in-law, Lee."
John nodded to each.
"Are you from Australia, John?" Byron asked.
"No, it was just a business trip I cut short." He looked at Violet when he said it.
"Wind energy, isn't it?" Evelyn asked.
Lee swallowed some orange juice. "I thought you were some kind of environmentalist."
"I look at the environmental impact of areas proposed for wind farms."
"Ahh," everyone said. Everyone except Byron.
"Did I miss a briefing? Where did he go to school? Anyone?"
Violet made John a coffee, black with two sugars.
'I'm not that interesting, sir," John said.
"You arrived by police escort. Start talking."
"You'll be happy to know I asked for sirens but the officer said I didn't qualify."
"That is reassuring."
"Not so reassuring. He says he can't concentrate on the road when they're on."
"Scrambled eggs!" Violet's mother slid them from the pan onto John's plate.
"Mrs. March, this is literally the warmest welcome I've ever received."
"Call me Evelyn, John. Get comfy."
Violet watched proudly as John dug in.
"I see you're a ketchup on your eggs man," said Byron. "Good."
"I hear they'll shoot you in New York for that," said Lee.
"That's hot dogs," John said.
Byron gave Violet a nod of approval. "Where've you been keeping this one?"
When the day was done, Lee and Olivia drove John and Violet home – their home so John could pick up his car left in their driveway. Pulling into the parking lot of Violet's building John commented, "You've got a juvenile delinquent around here. This morning I saw some kid painting white over the license plates of a black Caddy."
"That's Ben. Trust me, the Caddy deserves it."
Inside Violet's apartment, they sat on the floor at the foot of her Christmas tree talking for hours. After Violet returned from a trip to the kitchen with hot chocolate and cookies, she found John waiting for her with a small box in his palm. She did not mention it.
"I brought you something," he said.
"That's nice," Violet said, taking it from him and laying it gently on the floor away from her.
"Don't you want it?"
"Not now."
"But it's Christmas."
"It's Boxing Day, and not even that anymore."
He picked up the box. "I'm going to give it to you."
"Cookie?"
"I'm going to open it."
"I don't care how you eat your cookies."
He began to tease her, opening the jewelry sized box a hair at a time. "It's a...it's...a..."
"Put it away and look at the tree." She kissed him. He shook the box next to her ear. "I hate you," she lied.
"That's too bad because I'm pretty sure I love you."
Violet's breath was caught between heartbeats. "I love you too."
"Then open it," he pleaded softly.
Inside the box was a small key. A key meant specifically for a small wooden chest.
"This is yours, Violet. It's not even mine to give."
Violet could hardly believe it. "How long have you had it?"
"Philroy sent it to me right before I came to book the party."
There was a silent understanding that the key had more than a little to do with their reconciliation. Violet let the key slip from the box into her hand. She only had to reach under her tree where she'd disguised Leo's chest as a present with a bow. They looked at each other.
"Do you think we'll need goggles?" John said. He took a pair of Christmas stockings that were hanging on the tree and put them on as gloves, bracing the box.
Violet inserted the key and heard the click of the lock giving way. "Here goes," she said.
She shook her head. "I don't believe it."
"What?" John asked impatiently.
"It's for you."
Inside, taped to the bottom of the chest was an envelope which read, "To Jimmy."
John opened the note curiously and read it out loud.
"Dear Jimmy, take Violet somewhere nice, won't you? She never wanted anything from me. Love Leo."
Too touched for the words, John reached for her hand.
"That's not true anymore," Violet said. She wrapped herself in John's arms with forever in mind and kissed him for all she was worth.