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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

An Advent Calendar - 2. Door#2 - Nelly Frittata

Nelly Frittata

 

Stephen put the last of the gifts into the tote bag, carefully tucking the box of fruit flavored candy canes into an empty pocket. He sat back in the chair and sighed. Now, he needed to get them packed. Lonnie would be home within half an hour and they needed to leave immediately. While driving home from the mall, the weatherman on the radio said a blizzard was coming, a huge storm wailing in from Canada by eleven tonight. They had a two-hour drive ahead of them and needed to get to St. Cloud before the storm hit.

He looked at his watch, a nice Rolex Lonnie had gotten him two Christmases ago. It was a quarter to five, plenty of time. However, there was no reason to take any chances. Stan and Karl, Hal and Amy, and Lonnie’s brother and girlfriend were already at the resort. He imagined them getting a little tipsy and singing along at the piano bar in the lodge. Stephen could almost smell the Irish coffee and the heady aroma of freshly cut pine branches. There would be laughing and joking and warmth.

Stephen jumped out of his chair and trotted up the stairs. Their Chihuahua, Skip scampered ahead of him, excited and panting his enthusiasm. The little dog looked up at him eager and with happiness. The West Carlos Lake Lodge allowed small dogs in the cabins. It was one of the reasons they chose the place to spend Christmas week with their friends. This was the first time they weren’t getting together exclusively with their families. Lonnie’s parents were in Europe with friends. Stephen’s mom was in California with his sister and her family. Stephen and Lonnie had been looking forward to an ‘orphan holiday’ all year long.

Grabbing the suitcase, Stephen started filling it with sweaters, underwear, and jeans. He marched into the bathroom and placed the toothpaste, a hair brush and shaving items into the overnight bag. He smiled to himself and reached into the bottom of a drawer, pulling out a bottle of baby oil. He tossed that into the bag as well. Naughty thoughts filled his head. Stephen grinned wickedly as he considered playing ‘reindeer games’ with his partner of five years. Yep, this Christmas they would both ‘fill their stockings with care’.

After getting both suitcases packed with the rest of the items, Stephen lugged them down the steps and set them in the foyer. He glanced at his watch again, now almost five-thirty. Usually, Lonnie was home from the office. He’d left for work early this morning, so by Stephen’s calculations, he was now late. Brushing his hands, he headed to the kitchen to clean out the fridge. He didn’t want to come home to moldy fruit and smelly leftovers. It was quite the job and he lugged the garbage out to the dumpster in the back of the property. Back at the condo, he waited.

***

At twenty past six o’clock, Stephen heard the front door rattle. “Lonnie?” he called from the kitchen.

“Sorry, I’m late,” he heard his hubby call back. “Fucking A!”

Stephen rushed through the dining room and burst into the living room. “Was traffic bad?”

Lonnie was brushing white snowflakes from his hat and the sleeves of his coat onto the tile floor in the foyer. “It’s coming down like crazy out there. The streets were like a parking lot. Cars were just crawling through the snow. The wind is starting to pick up and visibility is practically zero.”

Stephen gaped at Lonnie. “Oh no,” he finally said quietly.

“Oh yes,” Lonnie said, struggling out of his coat. “The storm came early. Sorry honey.”

“But, Christmas…”

“Is tomorrow and we can’t make it to the lodge.”

“Everyone is already there and--“

Lonnie grabbed his partner and hugged him close. “Sorry, Stephen. We are spending Christmas here. Don’t freak out. At least we’re together.”

Stephen returned the embrace after a moment, but knew his face was slumped with disappointment. They would miss the singing, the laughing, and the delicious spread of the West Carlos Lake Lodge complete with prime rib and truffle mashed potatoes. His mood soured as he thought of the Kentucky Bourbon pie the resort was famous for.

“Let’s make the best of it,” Lonnie whispered in his ear. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“Okay,” Stephen replied, though he wasn’t feeling it.

***

Stephen stood at the window watching the white swirl beyond the glass. He’d been staring out at the blizzard believing in a flash it would be gone. The storm would end and they could hop in the SUV and drive northwest up I-94 to St. Cloud and their friends. Any minute, this weather would turn and their special Christmas could happen.

“Not getting any better, is it?”

“No,” Stephen said, feeling a bit guilty. “It’s not letting up at all.” He turned and saw Lonnie was toweling his hair. His face was flushed. A smile lit him up.

“Don’t mope,” his hubby said. “Let’s make something to eat and pick a movie to watch. Or, we could play cards or something.”

“Oh no,” Stephen whined. “We don’t have any groceries. I threw out the last of the leftovers and we don’t have anything fresh left. Christmas Eve dinner will have to be a frozen pizza or something.”

“I don’t care,” Lonnie said. “We’re safe and now I’ve warmed up.”

“Shower did the trick?”

“It did.” Lonnie once again took Stephen in his arms. They hugged and ended it with a kiss.

“Let’s see what there is to work with. We’ll make dinner together.”

Stephen nodded and followed him into the kitchen. As Lonnie opened up the fridge, Stephen could see the shelves gleaming, clean and empty.

“We’ve got some eggs. Here’s some parmesan cheese. You weren’t kidding. There’s not much here.”

Stephen took the items from Lonnie and set them on the counter. “What have you got in the freezer?” Lonnie asked.

Stephen opened up the top compartment. Other than the ice cube trays and a frozen pizza and a couple of TV dinners, there wasn’t much. He saw a half bag of hash browns, a small, square box of frozen spinach, and a bag of mixed vegetable, carrots, peas, and corn. “I guess I could make us eggs and hash browns,” he said.

“A-ha!” Lonnie said triumphantly. “Looks like you’ve got a can of mushrooms and there’s an onion. I know exactly what we’ll have. Grab those hash browns and the spinach.” Lonnie plopped the can and onion onto the cutting board. “We’re having a frittata for Christmas Eve dinner.”

“A frittata?” Stephen asked, then his face split into a grin. “Of course.”

Lonnie threw the box out of the freezer into a colander he had set into the sink. After running some warm water over it, he grabbed the cast iron skillet and placed it on a burner heating it up.

“Grab me the knife,” he said, grinning at Stephen.

“Here you go,” Stephen said, quickly pulling a bowl from the cupboard. He cracked the six eggs and started whisking them. “You know, this is kind of fun.”

“It’s like our own little scavenger hunt,” Lonnie said. He placed a couple of pats of butter in the blackened pan. “I’ll get these onions cooking and then we’ll season up the mushrooms at the same time.”

“Perfect,” Stephen said, adding a splash of sherry to the eggs. He sprinkled salt, freshly ground black pepper, and a little granulated garlic into the scrambled egg mixture. For good measure, he added some dried thyme and a little smoked paprika.

Lonnie picked up the cutting board and poured the diced onion into pan, they sputtered and released a white cloud of steam as they began to soften. He sprinkled a little salt and using the pepper mill, generously added some spice to them. He turned to the counter and picked up the little can of mushrooms. “Hand me the opener, please.”

“Here you go honey,” Stephen answered, handing him the implement. Lonnie opened the can, drained it, and tossed the mushrooms into the crackling pan. “We’ll get some color and snap to the mushrooms.”

“Let’s add some Worcestershire sauce at the end. That will make them meatier.”

“Lovely,” Lonnie answered, grabbing the bottle out of the fridge. After a couple more minutes, Lonnie scooped the cooked vegetables out of the pan and into a small bowl. He put a couple more pats of butter in the hot skillet and then grabbed the hash browns. “Let’s get these going and I’ll see if the spinach has thawed out yet.”

“I’ll check on the spinach,” Stephen said. He sprayed more warm water on the box and pressing with his fingertips, recognized the edges were softening. He opened the package up and sprayed it again. “Almost ready.”

“Scrape off the thawed part, squeeze it dry and add to the mushrooms and onions. That way they won’t curdle the eggs.”

“Good thinking,” Stephen replied. He did as Lonnie suggested and kissed the other man as they passed each other. “Who needs a lodge and friends?”

“Not me,” Lonnie said, smirking and turned the heat off on the stove. The Christmas Eve supper would have to wait.

“Come with me.”

He took Stephen’s hand and they raced to the bedroom. The two men enjoyed ‘making their spirits bright’.

***

After another shower, Lonnie got the hash browns cooking in the cast iron pan. He mixed the drained spinach, mushrooms, onions, and egg mixture together. Stephen came into the room, giggling and pulling on a sweatshirt. He was wearing long shorts and big furry slippers.

“Somebody’s ready for bed.”

“I’m starving,” Stephen said.

“That was a good workout.”

“It was the perfect Christmas present.”

“It was.” Lonnie kissed Stephen on the nose. “Why don’t you find a movie to watch while I finish up here. All I need to do is add the egg mixture on top of the half cooked potatoes and top with the parmesan cheese. I’ll pop it in the oven and Bob’s-your-uncle, we’ll have a jolly frittata for supper.

“A Nelly frittata,” Stephen said, chuckling. “For our very gay Christmas.”

“Our own private celebration. Merry Christmas, Stephen.”

“Merry Christmas, Lonnie.”

Thank you for all the likes and wonderful comments on Door#1! :hug:
This was door#2. We hope you enjoyed what was behind it. Thank you for reading. Likes are always welcome. ;)
Any guesses who wrote it? You can leave your thoughts by pressing the review button and/or at the story thread.
Copyright © 2016 aditus, Cole Matthews, Valkyrie; All Rights Reserved.
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Yes, I'm late! What's new? Like eggs, like frittata. Especially served in bed, by a large gorgeous man...ok I'll stop! Lovely story, if you're with the one you love, that's all that matters.

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On 12/12/2016 02:56 PM, Mikiesboy said:

Yes, I'm late! What's new? Like eggs, like frittata. Especially served in bed, by a large gorgeous man...ok I'll stop! Lovely story, if you're with the one you love, that's all that matters.

– Cole: Thanks for the lovely review. I’m glad you enjoyed the recipe and the sentiment. When you’re with the one you love, it’s all that matter. Happy holidays!!!

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On 12/04/2016 01:17 PM, Headstall said:

I was late to this, so I can't guess :) . Cute story, Cole. The frittata sounded lovely. I'm glad they figured out what was most important. Cheers... Gary....

Cole: Thanks for a warm and lovely review. They did figure out what really matters. I appreciate your reading it.

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