Andrew and Helen’s rooms, the bathroom, and one guest room made up the second floor. One main room filled the cabin’s first floor, serving as kitchen, living room, and dining room, with Helen’s paper-strewn office in the back. “We don’t have the space! It’s a research cabin, not a house.” Helen had smoothed back the black wispy hairs that never failed to escape from her signature French braid. Andrew and I had spent almost all of November begging his mom, Helen, to host Thanksgiving dinner. Happiness fizzed through me, sweet and bubbly, like the sparkling apple cider chilling outside in the snow. We laughed as we watched each other chew. One by one, we popped olives into our mouths until our cheeks bulged. In the good way, the way you can only feel when you’re with friends you trust, and you’re all in it together. Ruth and I slipped olives onto our fingers, and I felt six years old instead of twelve. “Olives are an appetizer, Sadie.” He brought the tray over. He smiled his crooked half-smile and waved olive-topped fingers. I brushed flour off Ruth’s nose and grinned at Andrew. Turkey, bread, and mashed potatoes warmed in the oven. Pumpkin pies cooled on top of the washing machine.
Pots and pans and spilled spices filled the research cabin’s tiny kitchen. For my parents, who taught me to believe in Christmas miracles, big and small.Ĭhapter 29: We Wish You a : Merry Christmas
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