Sixteen year old Mabon Belden enjoyed the orchestral version of “Silent Night” as she wiped the counter down. It was a Thursday night and business at the coffee shop was slow. She had already studied for her AP Algebra test the following day, and still had a couple hours until she could close the shop.

It was almost Christmas, and a typical wintery evening in White Plains, New York. A glance at the clock told Mabon that two of her Thursday evening regulars would be popping in any moment.

She glanced at the corner of the shop, where her last customer was nursing a peppermint mocha. She had yet to see him take a drink of it, and he was odd.

Tall and lanky, with floppish brown hair falling over one eye, he had wandered in earlier. At first she had thought he was coming from a play rehearsal, given the purplish, old- fashioned frock coat he wore, and a silly red bow tie.

“Hallo!” he called enthusiastically as he walked in, pulling off gloves. He strode up to the counter. “How are you doing tonight?”

The accent gave him away as British, and his eyes were active, darting around. His movements were jerky, looking around behind him and studying the place. Mabon hoped he wasn’t there to rob her. While it was illegal to carry in New York, she did have law enforcement grade mace in her pocket.

“I would like some um, coffee. Yes. Coffee. Hot. Very hot. And with some um, what do you all call them, sweet flavors?” He spoke very fast.

Mabon raised one eyebrow. Had he never been in a coffee shop before?

“Sure, what kind of flavors would you like?”

“Oh, um, what’s popular with you kids these days?” he asked.

Mabon hid a smile. “Peppermint mocha is the current seasonal flavor.”

“Yes, yes, that will do. And with cream. Lots of cream. In fact, mostly cream. Just a bit of coffee. But big. Big cup.”

She chuckled. He was obviously new to coffee, and he clearly didn't need any caffiene. “No problem.” She rang it up and gave him his total.

“Oh, right, you’re wanting money. Um, let me see, oh yes, here.” He held up a flip open wallet with a blank piece of paper. Mabon looked at it, him and frowned.

“Um, sorry, Bub, but a blank piece of paper doesn’t get you the coffee.”

His eyes widened and he looked hard at her, then at the wallet. “Oh, yes, right,” he murmured. “So sorry. Grabbed the wrong one.”

He fished in his pockets and found a credit card. “There, that should do it.”

She swiped it and it took the charge. Handing it back to him, she saw something metal poking out of his pocket and wondered if she should be worried.

“Give me just a moment,” she told him, picking up the coffee.

After filling the cup with the flavorings, a bit of coffee and a lot of milk, she handed it to him. Why was he staring at that way?

“Yes, right. Brilliant.” He rubbed his hands together while she made the drink. “Thank you.” He took the coffee and walked over to the corner, tucking himself into a table.

What an oddball, she thought, picking up a syrup bottle to wipe down. The syrup organization had been her idea. It drove her crazy that some of her coworkers would just shove the bottles into any spot, making it twice as hard for the next person to find it. She had labeled each slot and pestered her coworkers into making sure they stuck to it.

She had already dusted, including the festive holiday ornaments. The Christmas coffee was on full display and stocked up, along with the accoutrements the store sold to “enhance” the coffee buying. Mabon and another coworker had strung colorful, twinkling lights all around the store, and decorated with cutouts of Santa, menorahs, elves and trees to liven the place the place up. Mabon had strung so many light strings that the fluorescent lights overhead weren’t really needed, but required by law.

Mabon glanced in the window at her reflection, and adjusted the bright red and white Santa hat she wore. Her name was spelled out in glitter on the white fuzzy strip, and a bell was tied to the ball at the end. Her long, sandy blonde hair hung in two braids, tied with festive ribbons. She thought about cutting her hair for the umpteenth time but she knew how miserable her cousin Aralyn was with her chopped curls, and thought better of it. She and Aralyn were often mistaken for sisters, due to their resemblance, and while Mabon looked up to her older cousin, she made a point to stand out from the crowd of cousins. Mabon was no copycat. Since it was the holidays, they were allowed to wear red and green, and Mabon was enjoying wearing ugly Christmas sweaters; the more gaudy, the better.

This weekend would be busy, she thought, mentally reviewing her plans. While all the girls would get together next weekend for their annual Christmas Cookie day, this Saturday would be special. While Mabon was at work in the morning, her mom Diana would be baking cookies with her older sister Rayma, who was coming home for the holiday from college in the city. Rayma loved sugar cookies, so she made them with their mother every year. Mabon’s favorite were gingersnaps, and the afternoon would be spent with her and Diana making those together, and catching up on everything happening in their busy lives. They had been having ‘their’ cookie day as long as Mabon could remember. They also made other cookies, each girl made her twin brother’s favorite for them to pig out on after dinner.

The bell on the door rang as it opened. Mabon looked up and smiled. Two of her favorite regulars, Lizzie and Bella came in. Sisters in their pre-teen ages, they had tae kwon do lessons on Tuesday and Thursdays nearby, and then came for a drink to wait to be picked up by their mom or grandfather.

Lizzie was the older, but the girls shared long dark hair and eyes, and button noses. Lizzie wore her lime green ski jacket and hat but Bella’s were hot pink, the girls’ favorite colors. They carried their black gym bags with their gi in them.

“Hi, girls,” Mabon greeted.

“Hey, Mabon!” they chorused.

“The usual?”

“Yes, please,” Lizzie said as Bella nodded.

Mabon moved behind the counter. Lizzie always ordered hot apple cider and Bella loved hot chocolate. Mabon put extra whipped cream on both.

“How was practice?” Mabon asked.

“I broke two boards!” Lizzie exclaimed.

“It was really cool,” Bella added.

The two chit-chatted while Mabon steamed milk and cider for their drinks. Bella held out her hands so Mabon could see the hot pink polish on her fingernails.

“Mabon, have you read any Jane Austin?” Lizzie asked.

“Sure. I’ve read most of them,” Mabon answered.

“Do you like Pride and Prejudice more or Emma?” Bella asked.

Mabon knew better than to pick a side. And in this case, was easy.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m partial to Northhanger Abbey. I like satire,” she responded. “Persusasion is another favorite.”

“We haven’t read that one yet,” Lizzie said. “Mom said we had to be a little older.”

Mabon nodded. “Your mother is a wise woman.”

Before the conversation could continue, two teenagers came in. The sisters took their drinks and went to a table, still arguing over which book was better.

While the sisters waited to be picked up, Mabon waited on a few straggler customers and kept wiping down the counters, and various containers used through the shift. She liked her shop to be clean on her watch, and twice it had been noted by a mystery shopper that Mabon was constantly cleaning and kept the place orderly.

Mabon hummed along with the current song, “Sleigh Ride” as she wandered around, straightening decorations.

She loved Christmas, with all of its festivities and cheer. January and February were so dreary, but during November and December there were parties and decorations, and bright lights and people actually made an attempt to be nicer to each other.

Mabon was on the stepladder, rearranging a string of lights when she heard the bell on the door but had her back to it.

Turning, she almost fell off the ladder when she saw the man at the counter. She guessed he was about six feet tall, with curly blond hair and lively green eyes. He was really good looking in a sort of creepy way, she thought. Creepy for the simple fact that men with curly blond hair always reminded her of her dad, twin brother and cousins, all whom had curly blond hair. Otherwise, he was absolutely yummy.

This one drummed his fingers on the counter, glancing around.

“Hi,” she greeted him. “What can I get you?”

“The biggest, most sugar laden drink you have,” he blurted out.

She gauged him about eighteen, with smooth, young skin. No hint of a five o’clock shadow. Nice athletic frame, though he was bundled up in what she was pretty sure were multiple layers of clothes. Odd, she thought. Men didn’t usually wear that many layers of clothes, even in winter. That whole macho thing about not minding the cold. Was he homeless? He didn’t really look homeless. Just…hmmm, maybe strung out?

“You want multiple flavor shots?” she asked. “They’re all good and sugary.”

“Yes, please.” His eyes lit up at the thought. They followed her as she reached for the large cup.

“What kind of flavors? Fruity? Chocolate?”

“Oh, chocolate for sure,” he enthused. “Do you have regular honey?”

“We don’t, I’m sorry. How about chocolate, cherry, cinnamon and almond? And I can throw in some extra classic, which is just sweet.”

The young man actually licked his lips. “That would awesome.”

Mabon chuckled, putting in extra pumps of each flavor. This guy was a little kooky, but she didn’t mind. She decided he wasn’t high, just loved his sugar. It seemed to be her night for oddballs.

“Decaf or regular?”

He hesitated. “Regular. And add a shot of espresso. Lead me up!”

Mabon laughed.

“Not too much milk, though. I really like the sugar.”

Mabon raised one eyebrow. “I hope you’re not diabetic.”

“Nope, not at all. We don’t get diabetes. We need the sugar.”

We? She wondered. What did he mean by we? And who needed sugar?

“Mabon,” he said thoughtfully, reading her name tag. “As in the fall equinox?”

She nodded. “My mother wanted us to have unusual names without being too absurd. My sister is Rayma.”

“We’re you born in the fall?” he asked, studying her intently.

“August,” she answered. “We were actually due on the fall equinox but came early. I’m a twin.”

“I have twins,” he beamed. “Lots of them. They run in our…family.”

Lots of twins? He must mean siblings, she thought. Maybe he had a set of twins but he looked so young, there was no way he meant his own children.

“Here you go,” she handed him the drink. He’d already paid for it, his bills crumpled and damp. There was something very odd about this guy.

“Oh, thank you. Tink bless you.”

Tink what? She couldn’t help but smile. She glanced at Bella and Lizzie, who were watching the exchange nearby, and looking curious.

He closed his eyes in bliss and took a long sip. Mabon thought it might burn him but he showed no sign of it, drinking deep.

“Mmm,” he said finally. “That’s really, really good.”

The bell on the door jangled and a blast of icy air came in as the door was thrown open.

“Jenks!” the man in the door bellowed. “Where is she!”

“Oh, for the love of Tink,” the hot guy at the counter, Jenks, muttered.

Mabon eyed the newcomer with suspicion. Tall, lean, dressed in an expensive coat and suit, with fine, light blond hair and light green eyes. He was good-looking, she thought, and furious. She sensed trouble heading her way.

“Jenks…” the newcomer spoke in a warning tone.

“Shove it, Cookiemaker,” Jenks answered.

“She was supposed to wait for me!”

Jenks shrugged. “You know better than to tell her what to do.”

“Tell me where she is,” the newcomer advanced menacingly, his eyes dark with fury.

“Woah, hold up there!” Mabon darted around the counter and put herself between the two, arms outstretched. At five foot nine she wasn’t quite as imposing as Aralyn, but she could hold her own. “Put ‘em away, boys, this is a coffee shop , not a wrestling ring and I’m not having any throw-downs here!”

The tall man advancing paused as he looked at her. “I apologize, miss. My uh, associate here is withholding information that I need.”

“Well, you can wait till he leaves but you’re not busting any knees in here.”

She hoped her Santa hat didn’t detract from the authority she was trying to project.

“Listen to the lady, Pointy Ears,” Jenks chided him, his tone a higher pitch than it was. Mabon glanced at him. His eyes were glassy and he was grinning stupidly. Was he high? How had he gotten high when she wasn’t looking?

The sisters were sitting only a few feet away, watching this with interest. In the corner, the young man in the frock coat was watching intently, one hand in his pocket. Mabon suspected he was gripping the silver thing she had seen earlier.

“Mabon, can I have another? Please? I have more money,” Jenks turned sad green eyes on her.

Mabon glanced back at the other man, who looked disgusted on top of furious.

“How can you back her up when you’re loaded on sugar?” he demanded.

Lizzie and Bella were watching with intense fasciation, and Mabon suddenly felt surreal. There was something very, very off about these two men.

“I needed a recharge.” Jenks shrugged, smacking his lips. “Gimme five minutes and I’ll be fine. You’re already killing the buzz.”

The door opened and another man strode in. About Mabon’s height with long black hair and dark skin, a trench coat and a wide brimmed hat that made her think of Van Helsing, the vampire hunter. The yummy, Hugh Jackman version.

But he looked angry and …feral, Mabon thought. What was going on here? He radiated trouble and power. Different power from the blond. This was…almost primal.

“Thought you could ditch me, eh, Kalamack?” he snarled.

Kalamack, the well-dressed blond man barely glanced at him. “I figured you’d sniff your way here eventually.”

“Where is she?” the newcomer growled.

“Ask the sugar junkie,” Kalamack snapped.

Mabon felt her temper rising. “Okay, listen up. I want you two out of here, now. I don’t know what you’re planning to do to this guy, but it ends here. This is a business, not a bar and I want you out.”

For the first time, Kalamack took a good look at her. “Do you know who I am?” he asked softly.

“No, and I don’t care if you’re the President of the United States. I’ve got connections too, Bub, so take your Armani wearing self out of here!”

Jenks burst into hysterical laughter behind her.

Kalamack looked mildly surprised and amused. He produced a card and held it to her.

“Trent Kalamack, out of Cinncinati.”

“Bully for you, Mr. Kalamack. Get out.” She didn’t take the card.

Behind him, the newcomer chortled and Jenks was almost out of his chair with laughter.

“I promise, no harm will come to him while I am in your establishment.”

“Great, but you seem to have a problem understanding me. I said get out. And take that one with you.” She pointed to the newcomer.

He held up his hands in surrender. “Very well. We shall leave. Jenks, we will

catch up with you later.”

Mabon didn’t miss the threat in his tone. Once the pair had departed, she turned to Jenks, who had removed the lid of his cup and had his head all the way back to catch the last remnants of syrup at the bottom.

“Okay, Jenks, tell me what’s going on and why those men are after you.”

She saw the crafty look in his eye.

“They’re not after me, per se,” he said, holding out the cup with a baleful look. “They’re after my partner, Rachel.”

“Why, what did she do?” Mabon took the cup and started to make another drink.

“She’s on a recon mission, and ditched them. They’re total buzzkills. Well, David is all right but the cookie maker there, he’s no fun.”

“And you?”

He leaned in, “I’m on a different mission. She sent me to pick up something. But I can’t talk about it either.”

Mabon raised her eyebrow. “You think I’m buying this cloak and dagger stuff? Secret missions? A week before Christmas?”

He nodded solemnly.

Mabon laughed. “Okay, keep your secrets. I’ll make you the drink, but watch your back with those two. But if this is some sort of prank from my cousins, tell them I’m going to kick their butts.”

He paid her for the drink and left shortly after, and Bella and Lizzie came up to the counter.

“What was that all about?” Bella asked.

“That Jenks guy was cute,” Lizzie murmured.

Mabon nodded. “They all were. And I have no idea what that was about,” Mabon answered, “but that was interesting.”

As she moved to where Jenks had been sitting, she saw a black business card on the table and picked it up. Jenks, it read, then underneath that, Vampiric Charms, Freelance Runner and Security Service The Hollows, Cincinnati, Ohio. Now she really hoped Jenks would come back and tell her more. She slipped the card into her pocket.

*

The bell on the door rang as it opened, and Mabon glanced up, groaning inwardly. Cammie West, the bane of her existence and a classmate, came in, laughing hysterically and followed by the two girls that Mabon called her sheep. She could think of other names for them but they weren’t very polite. Of course, neither were these three. Celeste and Dulcie did whatever Cammie ordered them too, and had for years. Mabon often wondered if they shared a brain. They were all pretty girls, but it ended at the skin. They were the Mean Girls of their class.

“Hi, Mabon,” Cammie trilled.

Being the polite young lady that she was, Mabon fixed a smile on her face. “Hey, girls. What can I get you?”

They crowded around the counter, musing. Mabon took her time moving behind the counter. The three would change their minds five or six times before settling on their usual. She wasn’t wasting cups writing down all of their stupid changes.

“I’ll have a small, half caf, soy latte,” Dulcie said primly, in her usual superior tone, pursing up her lips like she always did when she spoke to someone she thought was beneath her. Which was pretty much everyone.

“Don’t forget the sugar-free vanilla,” Celeste ordered.

Cammie ran her fingers over the snacks in front of the register. Mabon kept one eye on her, in case she decided to lift something. Her cousin Dan Mangan had taught them all early on how to spot a pickpocket and she knew Cammie liked to shoplift.

“Oh, let’s make it a medium. And definitely with vanilla.”

“Sugar free?” Mabon asked. She picked up a marker and poised it to write on the cup.

Dulcie pursed up her already puckered lips in mock thought.

How on earth did the duck face get so popular? Mabon wondered. It looked so stupid.

Cammie was evidently bored with their game and shoved Dulcie out of the way.

“I’m thirsty,” she announced.

Mabon waited patiently, her smile in place. She had grown up with women like her mother, Diana Lynch Belden, Honey Duke and Daisy Duke. She knew how to keep a smile on her face when she really wanted to just deck these twits. Mabon was highly irritated by their nonsense, which included taking lots of “sexy selfies” and plastering them all over social media.

After Cammie ordered her usual, her sheep did so as well. They paid and stood to the side, waiting as Mabon made their drinks. Mabon wondered if they’d complain so she would have to remake them. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Cammie evidently had something on her mind because they took their drinks without complaint and went to a table. Mabon kept an eye on them as she straightened the cds of a local band, humming with the music which had changed to “O Tannenbaum”. The man in the corner was still there, watching the other girls this time.

The trio was doing their usual whispering but Mabon ignored them. She had no idea who they were plotting against, nor did she care. Cammie was still mad that Mabon had been voted to the Homecoming court three years in a row, and she hadn’t. Mabon was extremely proud of the fact she was class president, but titles like Homecoming Princess were more important to her classmates. She suspected Cammie was attempting to ‘make up’ for her older sister’s defeat their senior year. Mabon’s cousin Aralyn had been voted Homecoming Queen and Prom Queen during their senior year when Callie had expected to be both, and Callie had never forgiven her. Not that Aralyn had cared. But now Cammie was furious with Mabon for what she perceived as yet another defeat.

“Bye, Mabon!” Lizzie and Bella rose, gathering their bags. Mabon waved to them as they headed out the door to their mom’s car.

As they left, a young man Mabon didn’t recognize came in, and headed towards the counter.

She smiled at him. “Hi, what can I get you?”

“Just black coffee,” he answered, rubbing his glove-covered hands together.

He was cute, she thought. She didn’t give much thought to boys, at least the ones she knew. She had grown up with two brothers and a lot of male cousins. Boys didn’t hold much mystery for her. Especially the ones she went to school with. Most of them were annoying, and there was a lot of pressure these days for physical contact Mabon had no interest in. There were more important things in life that required her attention, like petitioning the principal to fix the pothole right on the edge of the parking lot that was responsible for more than one blown tire.

Government workings had always fascinated Mabon, and none more than Capitol Hill. While most of her cousins were athletes or performers, Mabon was studying women’s rights and hoping to work on the upcoming campaign of a female Senate candidate.

But this guy was pretty cute, she thought, giving him a smile. He was about six feet tall, with straight, short, dark blonde hair, light brown eyes and just a touch of a five o’clock shadow. He was lean, wearing an old green jacket over two flannel shirts, not sufficient to ward off the cold.

“Just black?” she asked. “No flavor shots or anything?”

“Nah. Plain is fine,” he smiled back shyly at her, handing her bills for the drink.

“Well, lucky for you, I have a fresh pot,” she told him. As she pushed the button on the coffee machine, she realized the table in the corner was very quiet. A quick glance over to them made her groan inwardly. Cammie was staring at the newcomer with laser focused precision and an extremely predatory look on her face.

This guy definitely didn’t go to their school, or Mabon would have known him. But there were lots of schools around the city.

“I haven’t seen you in here before,” Mabon capped his coffee and handed it to him.

“Just passing through,” he said evasively.

“In that case,” she smiled at him, “avoid the table with the trio over there. ‘Cause they’re looking at you like you’re a prime steak and they’re starving.”

The young man blanched. “Thanks,” he said softly. “I’m Adam, by the way.”

“Mabon.”

“That’s a nice name.”

She nodded as she thanked him. She was forever getting comments on her name. Which she didn’t mind, there was no other Mabon in her school.

“My mother likes unusual names,” she smiled.

“It’s pretty. It suits you.” His face turned red as her smile grew. “Thanks for the coffee, Mabon.” He spoke quickly and headed to the door.

“You’re welcome,” she said to herself.

Cammie was suddenly at the counter, her dark eyes glittering with malice. “Who’s your friend, Mabon?” she purred.

Mabon shrugged. “Some guy who wanted coffee.”

“You two looked awfully cozy for ‘some guy’.”

Mabon rolled her eyes. By tomorrow morning, half the school would have heard that she had hooked up with some stranger. She knew Cammie’s routine, and so did everyone else. No one took Cammie seriously anymore.

“He was polite, unlike some of my customers,” Mabon smiled sweetly at Cammie. “He thanked me for his coffee.”

Cammie was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. She slunk back to her table.

Mabon glanced at the corner of the cafe, but British man was gone. Odd, she thought. She hadn't noticed him leaving.

Mabon smiled at the newcomers. It was Cam Kent, Aralyn’s boyfriend, and Dean Acklen, her cousin Natala’s boyfriend. They often stopped by on the way home from classes.

“Hey Mabon,” they greeted her cheerfully.

“Hey, guys. Usual?”

“Yes, please,” Cam answered for them.

Mabon couldn’t help but smile at them both. Her heart sped up a little too, whenever Cam was around. Aralyn was so lucky, she thought. Cam was gorgeous, and probably the nicest guy around that she wasn’t related to. Dean was pretty awesome too and like another brother to her, but she would admit to a small crush on Cam.

She rang up their drinks and took their money before setting about making them. Cam was a black coffee kind of guy. Mabon thought it suited him and his love of journalism and straightforward facts. Dean was a seasonal flavor kind of guy, always changing it up. Pumpkin spice in the fall, peppermint mocha in the winter. With extra whipped cream. He did always get extra whipped cream.

“How’s school?” Cam asked her.

“Boring. But tomorrow is the last day before winter break, so I expect we’ll all be out at Ten Acres for some sledding soon.”

“Awesome,” Dean answered. “I owe a certain set of twins a rematch on that big hill. I know they cheated.”

Mabon laughed. He was referring to Leif and Logan, Aralyn’s younger brothers, and the partners in crime to her own twin, Miles, who could pass as their triplet.

“You guys got your presents set for the girls?” she asked, amused.

“Picking up the last piece of it tomorrow,” Dean said with satisfaction.

Cam nodded. “It’s all set. I’ve had it for a while.”

“Such a romantic,” Mabon smiled at him. She was aware of Cammie watching them closely. Cammie’s sister Callie had tried to keep Cam and Aralyn from getting together in high school, and failed miserably.

“You staying here for a few?” Mabon asked.

“Nah, headed to the gym. This is just our fuel stop.” Dean flashed her a smile and Mabon could see why Natala was drawn to him. Mabon and her family had known Dean since they were kids, and he was a really nice guy, even if he and Tim had teased her mercilessly when she was younger. Meeting Natala had been a stroke of luck for him, Dean always said.

*

Finally, her shift over, she locked the door behind her. Her dad Mart sat in the van, engine running to keep it warm. At sixteen, she didn’t yet have her junior permit. She was eyeballing a car though, and saving up for it for when the day came. Her parents had made a deal with her that if she saved up half of the car’s cost, they’d pay the other half. Mabon was determined to meet that goal and was well on her way.

***

The family had decorated the outside of the house several weeks before. Mart loved Christmas too, and enjoyed putting up Santa & his reindeer on the roof, and merry elves that light up all over the yard. Unlike his sister’s house, there weren’t any drunken Santas – the brain child of Leif and Logan. Every window was lined in colorful lights, as well as the trees. The big tree could be seen through the bay window in front, when the curtains were open.

Mabon was humming ‘O Come All Ye Faithful’ as she strolled through the house towards the kitchen. Her opening shift was over, which meant it was cookie time with her mom.

The best part about the cookie making, was that Diana understood her daughters were very different personalities. Rayma was chatty and bubbly and outgoing like their father, and Mabon was more serious minded. She didn’t always want to chat or talk, and she loved the warm companionship she and her mother had in the kitchen. They could work together with minimal conversation and have a good time. And always, they had A Christmas Carol with Alistair Sim playing on the small tv in the kitchen.

The house was in full Christmas decoration, as the family had decorated the weekend prior. Decorating the house was a family affair. The little miniature town was set up on the coffee table, and the entertainment center was covered with different nutcrackers.

Her mother had collected them for years before the kids we born, and every year the collection grew. Mabon loved the story of ‘The Nutcracker’, and her favorite nutcracker in the house was one based on Godfather Drosselmeyer from the story. It stood proudly amongst several smaller nutcrackers, including one that was based on William Shakespeare, one of her favorite writers. They were all sizes and colors, based on various characters, some traditional.

The house smelled wonderful, a combination of freshly baked sugar cookies and tomato soup. Which meant tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch.

She hurried into the kitchen to find her mother flipping a sandwich in the pan. “Hi, Mom, hi Rayma!”

They greeted her warmly and she went to the fridge to grab a drink, eyeing the cooling cookies on the counter.

“Mart, lunch is ready!” Diana called.

He appeared almost instantly in the doorway.

“Ah, do I insufflate the delectable redolence of the unifying of milled and refined grains and expressed dairy, coddled over calefaction to a gloriously golden transcendence?”

“Even with tomato and bacon,” Diana answered with a smile. Mart grabbed his wife and laid a smacking loud kiss on her.

“You’re awesome, wife o’mine.”

Mabon couldn’t help but smile. Some people would be grossed out by their parents kissing but she and all of her cousins had been raised in affectionate households, where kisses, hand holding and other displays of affection were common.

Mart joined his daughters at the table. Miles was off with the twins for the afternoon, and he tried not to think about what trouble they might be finding. At sixteen years old, the possibilities were endless.

Mabon told them about her morning at the coffee shop . It had been busy, the usual Saturday morning crowd doubled by Christmas shoppers. She had run the register until 9, then switched with a coworker and made drinks. She enjoyed making the drinks, blending the syrups and milk and coffee, and tea. Her memory was excellent for remembering regular customers and it gave her a break from talking to people.

Mart had parked himself in front of the tv when he got up and enjoyed a rare lazy morning. He did need to go by Ten Acres Academy later for their evening winter cookout near the lake. As Jim’s second in command, his presence was often required. Luckily though, Bernie, Jim’s new-ish assistant, had rapidly proved her value by easily taking over many of the organization and administration work.

Rayma was enjoying art school, but she was still modeling for Daisy, which she really loved. Mabon suspected her sister was thinking of ditching school and modeling full time, but that was a conversation for Rayma to have with their parents. Mabon didn’t want to be around for that.

After they finished their sandwiches and soup, the girls cleared the table. Mart wandered back to the living room, snatching several cookies from the tray. Rayma had already washed the mixer and other tools so they were clean for Diana and Mabon. The older Belden girl left to go meet up with friends for the afternoon.

Daisy already had the butter out to be at room temperature, and together, mother and daughter brought out of the rest of what was needed. Mabon also knew that in the cabinet a special fruitcake was ‘marinating’. An old family friend by the name of Mrs. Vanderpoel had shared her recipe with the Diana, Trixie and Honey many years before, and it was the only fruitcake anyone in the family enjoyed.

Mabon caught her mother up on last night’s work shift, but she hadn’t told Diana about the episode earlier in the week with the odd guy named Jenks, and his two associates. Her mother already worried about Mabon working in the evenings. Besides, she was kind of hoping Jenks might be back. He had intrigued her, especially after leaving his business card.

While Diana came from a wealthy family, she was also a partner in Daisy Duke Designs, like Honey and Trixie. But where Honey and Trixie were silent partners, Diana met with Daisy regularly to discuss the company and brainstorm new growth ideas.

Currently, Daisy was seeking designers for a plus sized line and a teen’s line. Daisy had recruited Jim’s daughter Val for her assistance and insight into the current teenage mindset. Diana was working with her on looking at designers’ portfolios. There were two designers Diana really liked. Neither focused on the garish prints that were often used in plus sized prints, but were more focused on flattering lines, and classic looks.

“Any boys of interest?” Diana asked casually.

Mabon laughed. “No, not really. Same group of idjits there’s always been. Besides, I really want to focus on my grades right now. ” There was a good chance Mabon would be in the running for class valedictorian, following in her older brother Riley’s steps. She was already looking at colleges, and narrowing down her desired schools. She was leaning towards law school, but hadn’t decided what specialty. USC in California had a top notch women’s study program that interested her. Riley was studying in California as well, at Stanford. It would be a short plane ride, or about a 5 hour drive to see him, if traffic cooperated.

Mother and daughter lapsed into their comfortable silence. As Mabon scooped dough out of the bowl, she hoped this was one tradition that would never change.