Christmas Lunch

[adifferentlife]

The best way to celebrate any holiday is to share it with people that one care's about, Sybil is sure of that. It's why she's organised this, a luncheon for any and all that she's friends with. It's not something she's done before, and it feels very adult to be hosting a party within her own home. It's not something she ever imagined doing in such a small space, or without a staff to support her, or even before she was married with her own home, but those aren't things that are considerations here.

Instead she's let everyone know when to come and to bring something to share with the others. She's ordered in the main part of the meal, a roasted turkey instead of a goose and a roast of lamb as well. There's champagne and wine, and she has the record player Kaine gave her in the corner playing christmas carols by Bing Crosby. There's a small tree of real pine with strings of beads strung through its boughs and little elecric lights twinkling. Henri has helped her to decorate and do the cooking that she's tried, even if most of the cookies she made needed to be thrown our they were so burnt.

Once people start to arrive she relaxes, allowing herself a glass of wine once she's sure everything is in order and things are going well. At some point there is nothing else she can do, other than talk to her guests; her friends. It's nothing like a Christmas at Downton, but her second one here in Darrow and it feels like the Christmas it's supposed to be.

Comments

[adifferentlife]

"Of course you're invited. It would be silly for you not to come." He's a friend of hers, she likes to think, and a dear friend of Henri's, which means his welcome is near absolute.

"Kind or perhaps very hungry," she says with a gentle laugh.

[petit_poete]

It may have been silly for him not to come, but he was grateful for the invitation nonetheless, and too polite not to thank her for it.

"Well, none have them have tried to eat me," he commented wryly, although he wasn't sure if she would get the joke behind the words. Combeferre might not have told her about what had happened to him in November.

[adifferentlife]

"No matter how badly I burnt the biscuits, I doubt that will happen," she says, settling on the arm of a chair. She likes Jehan a great deal, and not only because she's thankful that Henri has a friend here. "I've a gift for you."

[petit_poete]

"Oh, that's very thoughtful!" Jehan said, smiling. "And I have one for you, as well." He blushed a little, hoping she would like his gift. He'd put a lot of work into it, but he wasn't sure his handmade gift would be so appealing when there were so many flashy, luxurious gifts available for so little expense in this world.

[adifferentlife]

"Do you really?" It's a surprise, and a very pleasant one. She doesn't expect gifts from anyone, but they're enjoyable to receive, and whatever they are, whether a found rock or something purchased from a fancy shop they all have meaning. Her own for him is a silk scarf in a turquoise that she thinks he will like. "One moment?"

She goes quickly to fetch a small package from beneath the tree, returning to her spot on the chair arm and holding it out to him. "Merry Christmas."

[petit_poete]

"Merci! Your gift is in my coat...do you want me to open mine first, or retrieve yours?" Jehan half-rose, ready to dart to the other room for Sybil's present if she chose the latter option.

[adifferentlife]

"Why don't you get it, and we'll open them atthe same time?" She's excited, she has to admit, and that he seems eager to get her gift only makes her moreso.

[petit_poete]

"D'accord!" Jehan finished standing and hurried to his coat, retrieving her gift before returning to his seat, her gift outstretched in offer. "Here it is, Merry Christmas!"

[adifferentlife]

"Thank you," she says as she exchanges wrapped packages with him. "Merry Christmas, Jehan."

[petit_poete]

Jehan carefully unwrapped the paper covering and then opened the box, breaking into a delighted smile as he pulled the scarf free. "Oh, how wonderful! Merci!" he said brightly, unfolding the scarf between his hands to admire it.

[adifferentlife]

Her reaction takes a moment longer, reading the words of the poem that he's had framed, her lips moving each. "Jehan. Did you write this?"

[petit_poete]

Jehan looked up from his scarf, cheeks colouring as he nodded. "Oui. And did the art, as well. I hope you don't mind a handmade gift." He smiled hopefully, trying to gauge her reaction.

[adifferentlife]

"I don't mind at all. It is truly beautiful," she says, hugging it to her chest. "thank you."

[petit_poete]

He brightened at her words and nodded. "De rien. It was my pleasure to make it for you."