How to Host a Holiday (The Prequel to Ivy Stratton & The Time Machine)
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About this ebook
Novella: 20,000 words
Ivy Stratton has Big Plans to host an unforgettable Christmas dinner party.
She's compiled a gourmet menu, festive decor, and the perfect guest list, all in hopes of winning the heart of the man of her dreams.
But when her Big Plans fall apart, Ivy must scramble to make the most of the situation and keep her composure as the ideal holiday host.
This holiday novella is the prequel to the Ivy Stratton & the Time Machine series.
Kathleen Kitson
I write Chick Lit+ Sci Fi with the Ivy Stratton & The Time Machine series. :-)
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How to Host a Holiday (The Prequel to Ivy Stratton & The Time Machine) - Kathleen Kitson
How to Host a Holiday
by
Kathleen Kitson
Copyright © 2012 Kathleen Kitson
Cover Design by Damonza
First edition: November 2012
All rights reserved. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to another person. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share with, or use the proper retail channels to lend a copy. To use material from this book, prior written permission must be obtained at kitsonbooks@gmail.com.
Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Smashwords Edition: October 2012
Contents
Title Page
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
Preview: How To Forget Your (Boy)friend
About the Author
ONE
Hey, Doll, why are you in the kitchen so early? You’re missing the Parade!
Giuseppe calls to me from the family room.
My husband’s voice is music to my ears as I stand in the kitchen, cooking a special Christmas breakfast for him. Even though this is supposedly the most important meal of the day, I’m not much of a breakfast person. But Giuseppe is.
Whereas I’m fine with subsisting on freshly brewed tea in the mornings and waiting to eat my first meal around noon or even one o’clock, Giuseppe is one of those people who is hungry as soon as he wakes up, and his day is off kilter until his stomach is full.
So, I got up early this morning, tiptoed into the kitchen, and put a frilly little apron over my candy cane patterned flannel PJ’s to make G (G
has been Giuseppe’s nickname since the 9th grade) a breakfast he won’t forget. Bacon, eggs, grapefruit wedges, orange juice…and I’m finally putting that Belgian waffle maker we got as a wedding present to good use.
From where I stand while stirring my homemade waffle batter, the view out of the bay window into our backyard is cozy. Colorful lights twinkle on the rails of our deck, and the grass and all of the fir trees are blanketed in a heavy layer of snow. Upon closer inspection, I realize that flurries are still falling, and it truly feels like I’m in a scene in a painting.
In the background, the sound system speakers are blasting Dean Martin singing Baby, It’s Cold Outside
and I sigh contentedly. At the risk of sounding like a total Pollyanna, I feel truly grateful for everything and blessed.
In the glow of this absolutely perfect moment, any past worries and troubles I’ve ever faced fade into oblivion. Who could truly ask for anything more?
I’m sprinkling powdered sugar over a perfect waffle (and admiring the sparkle and shine of my Cartier engagement ring and wedding band) when Giuseppe comes walking into the kitchen, singing along with Dean.
He winks at me as he sings, Gosh, your lips are delicious…
in perfect tune, and I giggle when he pulls me into his arms.
I feel the scruff of his morning beard against my cheek just as the smoke alarm goes off.
We look around the kitchen to find out what set off the alarm, but see nothing. The stovetop is warm, but the bacon and eggs have been cooling for a few minutes, and the waffle iron isn’t smoking either.
G stands on a chair and disables the smoke alarm…but it keeps beeping.
Suddenly, despite my cozy pajamas, I feel very chilly. As in--my elbows, ears and toes are freezing. And…is that drool I feel sliding down my face?
With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I put two and two together, and realize I’m dreaming.
The smoke alarm is my alarm clock.
And my elbows, ears, and toes are cold because I’ve probably kicked my covers off during the night.
I regretfully say goodbye to my perfect fantasy of Christmas morning with G, open my eyes, and silence the alarm.
The good news is, the Christmas tunes don’t fade away with the dream. Thanks to the playlist I’ve programmed to start ten minutes before my alarm every morning, I am waking up to the sounds of a rich, deep voice crooning about roasting chestnuts on an open fire.
Ahhh…between the likes of Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole, and Michael Bublé, my apartment is always alive with the sounds of holiday music this time of year.
The bad news is: Yes, I am drooling.
I check my phone to verify the date. It’s 9 A.M. on December 24th.
I venture a glance at my left hand--even though I already know the answer to this question.
No ring.
And no Giuseppe either.
TWO
Pushing disappointment aside, I lie in bed savoring the music for a few more moments, and as soon as I’m fully coherent, my mind shifts to the weather.
I hop out of bed, run to the window, and breathe a sigh of relief that the skies are clear. As perfect as the snow felt in my dream, the last thing I want to do today is drive around and run a million errands in the middle of a snowstorm.
In fact, despite my phone displaying a current local temperature of 36 degrees, and the fact that my neighbors up and down the block have taken advantage of the warmer weather to deck their halls (well, yards) to the fullest, it looks like anything but Christmas Eve.
The St. Louis winter has been mild thus far, and the still-green grass and blue skies look more typical of an early Fall day. This continuation of a streak of unseasonably warm weather is fantastic news, since the local meteorologists have been predicting a white Christmas for the past 36 hours.
Now, I have nothing against snow, and definitely nothing against a white Christmas…but, due to my busy work schedule, and