Jennifer’s Eggnog
The first shot struck Jennifer under the chin. That one was
courtesy of Lawrence. She was still yelping from the impact when Trent’s
delivery took her full in the face, filling her mouth and blinding her in a
thick white explosion. She spat and wiped her eyes clear, glaring at the pair
of them, before her gaze settled on Trent. Scooping up snow she pursued her guy,
screaming with mirth as she ran. He taunted as he fled from her, but cockiness
was his undoing. He stumbled knee-deep in a drift and floundered in his attempts
to right himself.
“Bastard!” Jennifer laughed as she pelted him and then pushed
him over while he was still off-balance. He grabbed hold of her parka and
pulled her with him. Together they rolled down the slope in a white-powder
flurry, till she straddled and pinned him.
“Language, baby!” he chided. “What would Pastor Jenkins think?”
“That you deserved it.” Her eyes dared him to fight back.
A scream from Kimmie diverted her. The brunette had attempted a
similar assault on Lawrence to that which Jennifer had perpetrated on Trent,
but with manifestly less success. Kimmie’s shots having flown wide of the mark,
Lawrence took firm hold and hoisted his girl squealing upside-down. Then he
dropped her flailing to the ground and held her there, rubbing snow in her
laughing, spluttering face.
“You’re so mean!” she protested.
He grinned in response. “I think that’s how you like me.”
“Now there,” Jennifer goaded, “is a guy who’s got control of
his woman.” Trent flipped her over and they wrestled till she disarmed him with
a slow kiss on the mouth. “See?” Her breath smoked in the cold. “That’s why I’m
the boss of you.”
“Oh really?” He stroked her face and smiled. “Don’t bet on it.”
* * * *
The winter-scape captivated with its pine-fringed beauty, but
eventually frost bit into their gloved fingers and the indoor refuge beckoned
to the group.
Within an hour they were dried off and basking before a
cracking pine-log fire, sipping the treat Jennifer had provided. Andy Williams
was crooning on the stereo and the whole place was wreathed in thick gold
tinsel. Coloured lights blinked on the tree and mistletoe hung in bunches from
the rafters.
“This is luxury,” Kimmie cooed. “It doesn’t get any better than
this, right? And your eggnog is delicious, Jen. We should rent this chalet
every Christmas.” She nestled into the crook of Lawrence’s arm, flames glinting
in her big hazel eyes. Her soft-featured brand of prettiness always reminded
Jennifer of Bambi.
Her fiancé snuggled her to him. He was the perfect Kimmie
compliment, Jennifer considered. The big strapping jock, who so enjoyed playing
the role of her protector. And how the doe-eyed brunette played up to it. “We
could do it next year, joint honeymoon,” he suggested.
“Yeah – and since we’ll all be legally wed,” Jennifer added,
“there’ll be no raised eyebrows at church about couples shacking up in Lake
Tahoe.”
“My folks think the boys are bunking together,” Kimmie said
with a giggle.
Jennifer caught the guys’ joint grimace. “A bit too gay for
you, Lawrence? Trent not so cosy a bed-buddy as the one you’ve got?” Kimmie
blushed as her fiancé squeezed her tighter. Jennifer hugged Trent and he
cuddled her in return, all four of them basking in their shared secret.
Back at St Bart’s no one would have believed it, so absorbed
were the quartet into church life. Kimmie had even given a talk to the youth
group, beaming all the while, about how she and Lawrence were saving themselves
until they were united in the sight of God, and Jennifer had told her wide-eyed
Sunday School students about the specialness of marriage. Their four day
December retreat to the mountain lodge had raised some pious eyebrows, but
they’d been clear to family and friends about sleeping arrangements.
Clear – and utterly disingenuous.
The
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