Episode Eighteen: The First NoelJustine Marques-Vincente pulled out all the stops; she bought her first cookbook at Amazon, hand-stenciled place cards on the third try and wore a Rudolph apron as though it were tailored by Alexander McQueen.
Best-laid plans were the reason she was sitting on the kitchen counter alone and crying while her husbandís gigantic family pretended to be Merry in the living room. Sebastian hadnít shown up as promised not that that was a surprise, so much for familial support.
Quentin leaned his back against the table, arms crossed directly in front of his bride. "Dad stopped bleeding and the kids donít mind having potato chips, itís not prison food,"
The wreath had fallen off the front door and smacked Quentinís dad in the nose. Then there was the family tradition of warm cookies on Christmas Eve; Justine had burnt those. The blouse she bought for Quentinís mom was too small, and Justine had actually said out loud that that was the biggest size Donna Karan makes.
Quentin sauntered over to her and sidled up between her dangling legs, touching foreheads. "Tell you a secret, this Martha Stewart baloney isnít sexy anyway,"
Justine wrapped her arms around his neck, lacing her hands through his shaggy Bon Jovi hair. She pulled his mouth towards hers and smiled. "My husband, the big fibber, these are the moments I love not being single anymore."