Rhys crouched beside the hearth, coaxing the fire back to a proper blaze.“Right,” he said over his shoulder, glancing at the small stack of wrapped presents still under the tree.“We’ll open the rest after we’ve had something to eat.”
“That’s ages away,” Olivia groaned, leaning dramatically back on her hands.
“It’s maybe thirty minutes,” he corrected.
“Twenty minutes,” Cat called from the kitchen, “and nothing complicated.”She’d been bustling between the sitting room to watch the girls open their stockings and the Aga.“Hopefully, it’s not too American for you.”
“Mum is American,” Olivia said, sniffling still, but nothing like she was just a day ago.
Cat smiled to herself and plated the last of the cinnamon French toast.She’d cooked a plate of crispy bacon, cut up oranges, and made scrambled eggs the way Rhys liked them, soft and creamy—which was not how she liked them but it was Christmas after all.
Fifteen minutes later, she invited them all to the kitchen table, and there was no hesitation.Everyone was hungry, and they sat down quickly, elbows bumping, mugs of hot chocolate steaming beside their plates.Jillian picked at her bacon more than she ate it, frequent coughs shaking her shoulders.
Rhys frowned.“Jilly, that cough is getting worse.”
“It’s just a cold,” Jillian muttered, avoiding his gaze.
Cat met Rhys’s eyes over the table.That worried frown of his had deepened but he did nothing until breakfast was finished.
“I’ll ring Alec,” he said as Cat began collecting their dishes.“I need to let them know we won’t make it tonight, which is disappointing, but we have to be careful, not just with Jilly, but with their family too.”
Both girls looked up sharply.
“But Dad,” Jillian protested, “I’m not that sick.”
“Alec’s great uncle is in his nineties, and the aunts are in their eighties.He also has babies, and the toddlers catch everything.They won’t have a proper immune system for a couple years.We can’t expose any of them to something, not if we can protect them by staying home.”
He stepped outside, closing the front door behind him for privacy.Cat busied herself scraping plates and rinsing mugs to avoid watching the girls sit and fret.A moment later Rhys was back.“We’re staying home,” he said simply, “but they send their love and they have some little gifts for the girls they’ll be sending down later with Mr.Trimble.”
Olivia’s face crumpled.Jillian pressed her lips tight, fighting the urge to cry.“It’s Christmas,” she whispered hoarsely.“And we’re going to be stuck here?”
“We’ll have a nice Christmas here,” Rhys said.“We already have.”
“But imagine Christmas at Langley Park!It would have been brilliant.All those trees and eating in their dining room.”Jillian impatiently wiped a tear away.“And I’m not even that sick.I don’t have a high fever, not like Livy, and I don’t have a sore throat.I just have this cough and a little headache.”
“I’m sorry, love,” Rhys answered.“I can’t in good conscience expose any of Alec’s family to our bug.But I said we’d open the rest of the gifts after we ate.Should we do it now or wait until after your naps?”
The girls howled in protest saying they didn’t take naps, never mind on Christmas.
Cat hid her grin as Rhys laughed.“I’m teasing you,” he said.“Let’s open the gifts and then maybe later after we recover from our big breakfast we can play some games.I saw a box of Clue in the cupboard.I also saw Scrabble and Life.”
“And maybe later you can read a little bit,” Jillian said.“After Christmas dinner.”
Rhys shot Cat a quick look, aware they hadn’t planned anything for dinner, but she gave the smallest nod and smile, because Cat would figure something out.Even if it was leftovers heated up with a fancy red bow on top.
They opened the rest of the presents, everyone taking turns to make the fun last longer.The girls and Rhys liked the mugs Cat got them, the girls insisting they use them later for hot cocoa or cider.Rhys had gifts for the girls, an art kit for Olivia, and a chemistry kit for Jillian.
“Just follow the directions,” he said, as Jillian studied the contents of the box.“Those are real chemicals and they’ll have a real reaction if you don’t pay attention.”
Rhys also had a small gift for Cat, a little knit cap with a pompom in the same navy color as her scarf.“You will need to keep your ears warm when you go back to Michigan,” he said.
Cat pressed the cap to her chest.“I love it.I’ll wear it every day.”
“Only when it’s cold out,” he said gravely, “or people will think you’re not quite normal.”
“What is normal anyway?”She answered, flashing a smile, loving the thoughtfulness and how the cap complimented her scarf.
The girls then gave Cat their gifts.They’d each made Cat an ornament, from sticks and cardboard and heavy on glitter, and Cat thought they were the most beautiful ornaments she’d ever seen.“When did you make these?”she said.“When did you have time?”
