Little One stepped out of the tub and pulled a towel from the bar. The smell of food cooking suddenly made her feel hungry. It was Christmas eve and Daddy was home early. He was now in the kitchen, preparing a Christmas Eve feast for two and filling the house with wonderful smells.
Little One dried quickly and pulled on her terry cloth robe. It was a little chilly and her nipples rubbed against the soft cloth as she tied the belt. She stepped quickly down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Daddy was busy moving from one pot to the other, adding something to one, stirring another, working so all would be ready to serve at the same time. A wok sat over the large burner, with a wisp of smoke rising from the oil. Daddy picked up a bowl of chopped red and green bell peppers and tossed it into the hot oil. A cloud of steam rose up and Daddy turned down the heat and dropped a lid over the wok.
Little One sat on the tall stool, next to the kitchen island and watched Daddy work. It was warm in the kitchen and she loosened the robe, pushing the collar off her shoulders and letting her cleavage show. Daddy looked across the island and smiled at her. Little One's hair was pinned up to keep it out of the bath water and her slender exposed neck called him. He wiped his hands on the kitchen towel and stepped around the island to her. Little One tilted her head, expecting a kiss, but Daddy's lips went to the curve of her neck. He inhaled slowly, drawing in the scent of her skin and tasting the trace of soap.
"You smell so good," he said as he pulled away from her neck and lightly kissed her lips. "I need your help for a bit, Little One."
"Please, Daddy," she said, "What can I do? Little One slid off the stool and followed Daddy to the prep counter where a large orange and a handful of cherries were draining in a colander.
"I need you to slice the orange and chop the cherries for our Christmas punch," Daddy said as he pulled a long slender knife from the rack. "Be careful, not to lose a finger."
Little One went to work as Daddy pulled two bottles, a brandy and a white wine, from the pantry and put them by the stove. A mixture of sugar and water simmered in a large sauce pan. Little One scooped up the orange and cherry pieces and brought them to Daddy.
"Thank you , Little One," he said, concentrating on the other pots on the stove. "Drop the orange and cherries in the sugar water, but don't get splashed." Little One gently slid the fruit into the hot water. Daddy pulled the oven door open, pulled out the pork loin and the smell of roast pork filled the kitchen. Daddy left the roasting pan on the oven rack and returned to the sugar water.
"This smells good, Daddy," Little One said. "What is it going to be?" Daddy leaned over and sniffed the fog rising from the pan.
"This is our Christmas punch, Little One," he replied. "Stir, while I pour in the brandy." Little One made slow circles in the pan with a wooden spoon while Daddy pulled the cork from the brandy and poured is carefully into the sugar water. Alcohol fumes billowed up, making Little One's head spin. She blinked her eyes and leaned her head on Daddy's arm.
"Daddy, are we supposed to drink it?" she laughed. Daddy poured about half of the wine into the pan and turned the flame off.
"I think you'll like it, Little One," he said and pulled her to him, rubbing his nose against her cheek. "Lets set the table and eat."
Daddy and Little One quickly put plates and silverware out. Daddy carved slices of pork loin for each of them and spooned the steamed vegetables and green beans onto their plates.
"Christmas colors for Christmas Eve," Little One observed. Daddy brought two tall thin mugs to the table and filled each with the Christmas punch.
"Take a small sip, Little One," he warned. "Its rather strong." Little One held the cup to her lips and took a small tentative sip. The aroma of orange and cherry filled her nose. The punch was thick and tart. The first sip made her throat feel warm all the way to her stomach.
"Daddy,:" Little One said, smiling across the mug, "Your punch is wonderful. We should have it more often."
"Sip it slowly, Little One," Daddy chided. "I'm sure you didn't drink much brandy at the Home."