I’d put a couple of towels on the front mat earlier for her to use on the dogs, and I leaned down and scooped them up before opening the door and stepping out onto the porch.
Ella mounted the stairs and flashed a wide grin. “Merry Christmas!” She looked ready to fall asleep standing, but her tone was so bright and cheerful that my regret eased a little. She sounded like she wanted to be here.
“Merry Christmas,” I said.
The dogs picked up their pace and loped toward me. I squatted down to greet them and then used their nearness to towel them off for her.
“Thanks for that,” she said.
“You’re welcome. You looked like you might be limping.”
She made an annoyed sound. “Oh, I’m limping. I pulled my hamstring snowshoeing after I left here the other day, spent yesterday building snowmen and drinking too much spiked egg nog, and then today running around and not eating or drinking enough, so really, I brought this on myself.”
I finished with the dogs and stood. “There’s aspirin and water inside. And food.”
Her expression filled with longing. “Food?”
“And beer.”
Now she looked like she might be drooling. “Beer?”
I laughed and let them in. Got to appreciate a woman with her priorities in order.
The dogs sniffed their way toward the sitting room, where I had a fire going and their makeshift beds already set up, a rawhide waiting for each of them. It worked out well the last time they stopped by, and if it ain’t broke…
Ella took off her winter jacket and boots to reveal a pair of black leggings and an oversized white cable-knit sweater that fell halfway to her knees, completely obscuring her athletic frame. Her hat followed, and she ran her fingers through her hair and dragged her long locks up into a messy bun. Small tendrils slipped free to frame her face. She brushed them back on reflex. I had to fight a sudden urge to reach out and pull them free again.
“Long day?” I asked when I realized I was staring.
She met my gaze and nodded, smiling like she wouldn’t change a thing about it.
“Thank you for stopping by,” I said.
“Thank you for having me. Megan looked like she wanted to verbally punch us all in the face when she left Mom and Dad’s, so I’m more than happy to give her extra alone time. And as much of an extrovert as I am, I’m beginning to understand why she needs it. There were a lot of people at Christmas this year. This’ll be a nice, quiet way to end the day.”
I frowned. “Oh. I had an evening of death metal planned.”
She cocked her head sideways. “I didn’t know you were into Nickelback.”
I clutched my stomach and gagged.
She looked at me with an innocent expression, but I could see the threat of laughter in the twitch of her lips and the gleam of her eyes.
I shook my head. The woman was incorrigible. “Come on. Food is this way.”
I led her toward the kitchen, where I’d spread out a small buffet of caramelized ham, mashed potatoes, stuffing, gravy, sliced pineapple, green bean amandine, sweet onions, cranberry sauce, poi, and for dessert, haupia – all of my favorite comfort foods. Well, minus the laulau, which I couldn’t make because it turned out that taro leaves were hard to come by on short notice in Maine this time of year. The grocery delivery service I used didn’t even know what they were when I called earlier.
“This is all I’ve ever wanted,” Ella said, elbowing past me to grab herself a plate and spoon a hefty amount of stuffing onto it.
“By all means, help yourself.”
Her head whipped up, an apology written across her face.
“I’m just teasing, Ella.”
“My bad,” she said. “I’m so tired that I can’t understand tone anymore.”
I joined her in the buffet line. “This is poi,” I said, pointing to the bowl filled with purple. “People tend to either love it or hate it. I made two-finger poi because consistency can sometimes be an issue, and added a little sugar to cut back on some of the earthiness.”
