A Christmas Arrangement Read Online Free PDF

sister’s voice calmed my stressed out soul.  I was so proud of her for stepping out of her comfort zone and trying something new.  But now I had something new to worry about too.  I was afraid my sheltered sister would be eaten alive by the sharks in L.A.  But I didn’t worry long.  Knowing her, she’d get through it with a smile on her face and some good stories to tell.  And she was right.  Our mother was going to freak out.
    ***
    My curiosity couldn’t be tamed any longer.  I had to see what was inside that fancy box.  The gold foil seal was imprinted with a beautiful company logo of two initials intertwining to make a heart.
    I opened the lid and found at least a dozen uniquely designed chocolates.  These weren’t your run of the mill box of turtles and chocolate covered cherries.  These were little pieces of art created with different colors and probably a variety of flavors.  A little parchment scroll inside affirmed that each piece had been lovingly handcrafted at a chocolatier’s boutique in Salt Lake. This was a pricey elf gift.  I couldn’t imagine any of my neighbors buying these for everyone else in the neighborhood.  I delved into the gift bag again and found a little note card.  “Each of these is sweet and unique, just like you.  From your Secret Santa.”  The words had been written in tiny, careful handwriting.  I smiled and my heart fluttered. 
    There was only one person who would do such a thing.  My thoughtful Secret Santa boyfriend.
    I took the treats into my kitchen to eat after dinner.  I wouldn’t usually mind having chocolates for dinner, but these were—for the first time in my history with food—too pretty to eat.  At least for dinner. 
    As I foraged for something edible in my kitchen, the pots and pans hanging on the rack, gathering dust, reminded me I would be cooking a dish for everyone at the dinner party.  And not just any dish and not for just any guests.  The anxiety caused my stomach to burn like the time I swallowed a whole pepper from the Szechwan chicken.  I’d felt the burn for twelve long, painful hours that time.  This time threatened to be worse.  I wanted to crawl under the table, curl up in a ball and not emerge until after New Year’s Eve.
    I found a box of macaroni and cheese—no name brand (the best!)—and checked the fridge for the necessary ingredients.  I opened the bottle of milk and took a sniff.  The gag propelled me backwards into the kitchen table. 
    I was debating milk alternatives when my cell phone rang.  Alex’s name came up on the ID. 
    “You called just in time,” I said.  “Which sounds better to make mac-and-cheese with, Mountain Dew or Coke?”
    “I’m coming over.  I’ll bring groceries.”
    “If you make dinner you can have your way with me,” I said.
    “Sorry, Mrs. Robinson.  You’re a married woman.”
    I was glad he could joke about it. 
    He came over with a few things to stock my fridge, the ingredients to make our stuffing, and a carryout pizza.  His eyes cut to the open box of chocolate delights on the table.
    “Ooh, what’s this?”  He stared at the box, his face all aglow, like a little boy peering into a toy shop window.
    “That’s from my Secret Santa,” I said expectantly.
    “What’s that?” he said with no hint of recognition in his voice.  He’s very skilled with the poker face and not giving up secrets.  That’s why he’s a good undercover cop.
    “You mean who?  I was just going to ask you that very question.”  I batted my eyelashes.
    “I have no idea.  Can we have one after dinner?”
    “Sure,”  I said. 
    He wasn’t budging.  I wasn’t going to either.  We could just let things play out and see what else the Secret Santa would bring.  I helped him unload the grocery bags.  “So why are you bringing all this here?  I mean, besides the pizza.  You’re the guy with the recipe right?”
    “My parents will be here a couple of days before the party.