Chapter 17

Tom ripped open the bag and dove inside. “Excellent. I was feeling a bit hungry.”

“And you can keep your paws off them until we have coffee,” Cliff said, coming down the stairs and taking the bag from a dejected Tom.

“When are we having coffee?” Tom whined.

Cliff looked up at the grandfather clock in the hall. “Now, I suppose.”

Tom regained custody of the paper bag and stuffed one of the gingerbread men into his mouth.

“Crumbs,” Cliff scolded, but I could tell he didn’t mean it.

We went into the kitchen and Cliff started setting out a tray.

“Nothing for me, thanks.”

“You had coffee at Tim’s,” Cliff said more than asked.

I nodded and smiled.

“I decided, after talking to Sam, to get their meal ready for them for when they get here,” Cliff said, adding water to a coffee machine. It must have been new as I hadn’t seen it the last time I’d visited. I began to regret declining Cliff’s offer of a drink