“But why?” Victor returned to serving lasagna. “How could anyone hate Christmas? I mean, I get that the holiday gets a little extreme with materialism and pressure and all that. But it’s Christmas.”
Carol wasn’t even sure how to answer.
“I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t have said anything,” Maria repeated. “You see, Christmas is Carol’s birthday, and I think it wasn’t a particularly happy day for her growing up.” She paused to fork her salad. “Her parents’ marriage was, well, a little rocky. And besides that, this poor woman has been decorating houses for Christmas since Halloween.”
Carol was surprised how well Maria could explain her feelings toward the holiday. Apparently she’d been listening better than Carol realized and was actually sympathetic.
“Well, I guess that makes sense.” Victor still appeared concerned. “And considering all that, you really are being a good sport, Carol. Stuck in Michigan with weather like this. It must be a real letdown compared to the Bahamas.”
She suppressed the urge to confess she had already rebooked her flight. She didn’t want to spoil this lovely meal. “It’s notsuch a letdown. I’m actually enjoying this unexpected visit with Aunt Maria,” she told him. “It was way overdue.”
“I agree. It was overdue.” Maria lifted her wineglass. “Here’s to enjoying what time we have while we have it, right?”
“Vivere il momento!” Victor exclaimed.
“Yes!” Maria nodded. “Live in the moment.”
“Salute!” Carol chimed in with one of the few Italian words she could remember, and they echoed her toast. As they ate, she realized she hadn’t had a meal this delicious in ages. Maybe never. Despite her mom’s Italian heritage, she had never cooked anything like this. And Carol had never really learned the art of cooking herself. As a single woman, she usually stocked her freezer with microwaveable meals or got by on salad from a bag with a bit of protein on top. Nothing to brag about.
“This was so good,” she said after clearing her plate.
Victor reached for the lasagna pan. “More?”
“No thanks. I’m stuffed.” She sighed with contentment. “And I’m not exaggerating when I say this might be the best meal I’ve ever eaten.”
“Really?” He looked surprised. “It’s just lasagna and salad.”
“The lasagna was fabulous ... and the salad was amazing.”
“Well, thanks.” He grinned.
“Thank you,” she told him.
“Thank you both,” Maria said. “I wish I could offer you dessert.”
“If you don’t mind my imposition, I noticed you have some chocolate gelato in the freezer.” Victor was already gathering plates. “And I could make some espresso.” He paused by Maria. “If you still have your espresso maker.”
“I do. I keep it in that appliance cabinet,” she told him, pointing.
“Right. I’ll go throw something together.”
“Let me help.” Carol picked up the lasagna dish and salad bowl and followed him back to the kitchen. Then, as he madeespresso and dished out gelato, complete with some little shortbread cookies he found in a cupboard, she rinsed the dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. She closed the appliance door just as Victor finished arranging an attractive dessert tray.
With arms crossed in front of her, she looked on as he set dainty spoons next to the Christmassy cocktail napkins he’d found in a drawer. “That looks very professional.”
“Too much?” His smile looked a little cheesy. “After all my years in the restaurant business, it’s hard to do anything halfway.”
She smiled. “I think it’s very nice.”
He picked up the tray, then paused to look at her. “Well, I thought since it’s your last—and only night here—why not make it special.”
She felt her brows arch. “How did you know I rebooked a flight for tomorrow?”
“I just figured.” His eyes darkened. “I’m sure Maria is disappointed.”
“I haven’t told her yet. I wanted to make this evening a happy one.”
He brightened. “Good for you.”
