Chapter 11
Jack
After spending the entire day alternating between berating myself for perpetually listening for any sign of Dr. Holly coming out of her room as if I’m her lapdog at the ready, and telling myself I’m a jack-ass—pun intended—I’m so spun up with emotions that I haven’t felt since high school that I have to go shovel more snow just to burn off my angst. I’m grateful the boys go pound on her door for dinner so I don’t have to stand in her doorway with puppy-dog eyes.
It isn’t our job to cater food for her. But there are three of us and one of Dr. Holly, so it seems only fair.
She didn’t intend to be stuck with us this weekend.
It’s absurd to think she’ll cook for my family.
Thankfully, Anna keeps the porch freezer full of food.
I’ve made a roast, rice, and roasted broccoli and turnips I found in the bottom of the freezer.
Anna likes to preserve things she grows.
Why on earth she grew turnips, then thought they’d be a good idea to stock up here, I’ll never know. But I’m grateful she did.
After babying the generator today to ensure it keeps working, making the boys shovel the walkway with me as best we can, and playing an agonizing game of Monopoly, then more angsty shoveling, I’m tired but wired, craving her smile, her voice as she talks science, her eyes that sparkle when she looks at me.
When she appears, her hair down and curly around her shoulders, her sweater tight around her breasts and belly, I can’t help but stare.
She shouldn’t look this good. I shouldn’t desire her this much.
The bold text stretched across her chest reads, “Hotter Than a Solar Flare.” Silently, I agree with the sentiment, but I don’t comment.
Her eyes are bright, and though her smile feels a little forced, she sits with us and laughs with ease at Cliff’s mispronunciation of constellation, saying constipation. From there, the quality of the conversation goes downhill, but the sparkle in her eyes as she smiles increases tenfold.
The boys understand chores still happen even at the cabin and clear the table and wash the dishes without grumbling while I make sure there’s a level, stable surface to set up her telescope outside.
I re-shoveled the path earlier. Back inside, I make two big thermoses, one of black coffee and one with hot cocoa for the boys.
I make a pile of thick woolen blankets by the door.
While the lack of clouds is great for stargazing, it means the temperature will plummet tonight.
There’s no chance to talk privately or to have a moment together before we all tromp out into the snow. It’s probably better this way; does a kiss need to be discussed?
Todd starts singing Christmas carols, and Dr. Holly quickly joins in with Cliff, leaving me looking like the Grinch.
They start a new song, and when my lips are still sealed shut, Dr. Holly links her arm through mine, dazzles me with her smile, and sings loudly enough for the both of us, encouraging me. Fine. I clear my throat and join in.
I can’t remember the last time I sang Christmas carols.
When we’re with Hans and Anna, they sing loud enough for the entire forest, and I’m not sure the boys even notice my lack of voice.
But I hear Cliff give a little squeal when my deep voice harmonizes with theirs.
Out of the corner of my eye, Todd raises a fist in the air in victory and gives a mittened high-five to Cliff.
It makes me realize how unfair I’ve been to them; how closed off, not from loving them, but from being joyful with them.
Two days with Holly, and I feel like a new man.
“Wow! That’s so cool! This is your job?” The boys throw exclamations and questions at Holly for a good long time, all while I stand stoically next to her, listening with interest as she explains all the aspects of her work, and dying inside to scoop her up in my arms and kiss her again.
Hard. Until she’s breathless and grinding against me.
I picture a dozen scenarios: undressing her here in the snow, trying not to literally freeze my ass as I thrust into her.
In front of the fire again. In the bed. On the kitchen counter.
In each scenario, she’s eager for me just as I’m eager to pleasure her.
All the blood running full-force to my dick leaves the rest of me chilled, making me shiver.
Holly looks at me—I panic, thinking she’s somehow read my thoughts—when she says, “Hey, Jack, come look at the comet!” Stomping my feet to redistribute the blood flow, I playfully shove Todd aside to take a look at this ball of ice in the night sky.
With the naked eye (hehe—I might be twelve inside), the Kringle Comet is a helluva bright streak across the night sky, dimming all the constellations.
But through the lens of Holly’s fancy telescope, it takes my breath away.
It’s bluish-white, its center a solid pulsing orb, and its tail is a magnificent cluster of sparkly crystals, like diamonds.
I stare at it until my eyes water, then stand up, back straight, and weep silently.
The boys are thankfully oblivious, but damnit if Holly doesn’t notice.
She scoots close to me, wrapping one arm around me and squeezing me close to her.
“It’s a lot, I know. I had the same reaction the first time I saw a nebula through one of these ‘fancy telescopes.’ It makes me feel minuscule, but also, part of a greater community.
It’s hard to think that we are each alone, when at this very moment, millions if not billions of people around the world are looking up at it, just like you and me. ”
Don’t wipe my eyes, don’t look to see if the boys are watching, solely focused on this fucking amazing woman holding me, I twist under her arm, pull her to me, and kiss her like I’ve never kissed anyone before.
Her little gasp of surprise delights me.
She yields to my lips, my tongue, my hands immediately.
It would be so easy to get lost in her, in this moment right now.
I restrain myself, gripping the reins of my desires and yanking back.
Breathing heavily with her, nose to nose, there’s a muffled silence around us. Then, a shout shatters that silence.
“See! I told you!” Todd is loud and exuberant in a way I haven’t seen him in a couple of years. He and Cliff fist-bump.
Cliff asks, “Does this mean we all have to study stars now? Forever?” Sighing quietly, I drop my arms from around Holly and shake my head, not that he can see it.
I’m still formulating words in my head when Holly says, “You should always study the stars, but not because of a kiss. Now, take a look again and estimate how long you think its tail is. We’ll do some quick math together.
” Cliff leaps forward, almost knocking over the telescope.
His six-year-old attention span is a gift.
Todd, however, has lost his smile and is eyeing us warily.
Damn teenaged years. I really wasn’t prepared to have a conversation like this with him at Christmas.
Holly refuses to go inside. I get it; this is her moment.
Eventually though, the boys are chilled to the bone, even with hot cocoa, all their snow gear on, and a heavy woolen blanket each wrapped around them.
After Holly assures me she’ll be okay for a while, I walk them back to the cabin.
Through all of their chatter about the comet, I help them get out of their frozen gear and get ready for bed.
putting an extra blanket on both their beds.
Tucking Cliff into bed, he asks if Dr. Holly is our new mom now. “Bud, it was just a kiss. She’s got work and a life far away from Mt. Frost. Nothing is changing right now, besides making it home soon.” I ruffle his hair.
“I know. But I really like her. And she makes you smile and play with us more. I like that.” I don’t know what to say.
Thankfully, he yawns and rolls over onto his side.
I pat his back and tell him goodnight. When I stand to check on Todd in the top bunk, his eyes are squished shut.
“Night, bud. I love you,” I say to him, grateful his pretending to be asleep means we can avoid more awkward conversations tonight.
After putting another log on the fire, I head back outside, another blanket in my arms for her. I can hear Holly singing Christmas carols, loudly and slightly off-key, as she looks into the telescope. That’s certainly a vision I never expected to see.
“Sorry about the kiss. And the boys,” she says once I’ve draped the blanket over her shoulders.
“There’s nothing to apologize for. I kissed you.
It could be the majestic comet unearthing feelings from my scarred heart.
Or it could be that I want to thank you for being here, introducing the boys to the comet, making our Christmas so memorable.
” I pause. She says nothing, just looks at me under the stars.
“Or it could be that you’ve flipped my world upside down in just a few short days.
I feel more alive than I have in years. And since you pulled up in my driveway, I can’t get you out of my mind. ”
More silence.
“Your driveway? I thought that house belonged to Mr. Noel.”