Same Time, Next Christmas. Christine Rimmer
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you are not allowed to speak to me until I finish at least one full cup of coffee.”
He shrugged. But she could tell that he was trying not to grin.
She took another big gulp. “Your face is still flushed. That means you still have a fever.”
He sipped his coffee and did not say a word. Which was good. Great. Exactly what she’d asked for.
She knocked back another mouthful. “At least you’re not sweating anymore. Have you taken more acetaminophen since last night?”
He regarded her with mock gravity and slowly shook his head in the negative.
She set down her mug, grabbed a glass, filled it with water and carried it over to him. “There you go. Take your pills. I’ll need to check your bandage and then I’ll cook us some breakfast.”
He tipped his golden head down and looked at her from under thick, burnished eyebrows. His mouth kept twitching. Apparently, he was finding her extremely amusing.
“What?” she demanded.
He only shook his head again.
She marched back to the counter, leaned against it once more and enjoyed the rest of her coffee in blessed silence.
“You don’t happen to have an extra toothbrush, by any chance?” she asked once she’d drained the last drop from the mug. He just gave her more silent smirking. “Oh, stop it. You may speak.”
“You’re such a charmer in the morning.”
She grunted. “Toothbrush?”
“Under the bathroom sink. Small plastic tub. There should be a couple of them still in the wrappers and some of those sample-sized tubes of toothpaste.”
“Thank you—need more coffee before I go in there? Because I am completely serious. For today at least, you’re not getting up unless you really need to.”
He set his mug on the coffee table and reached for the bottle of painkillers. “No more coffee right now. I’ll have another cup with breakfast.”
The fire was all but out. She added a little kindling and another log. As soon as the flames licked up, she faced him. “Do not get up from that couch while I’m in there.”
He was stretched out on his back again, adjusting the afghan, but he dropped it to make a show of putting his hands up in surrender. “I will not move from this spot until you give me permission.”
She grabbed her pack. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
In the bathroom, she didn’t even glance at the mirror. Not at first. The coffee had gone right to her bladder, so she took care of that. It wasn’t until she stood at the sink to wash her hands that she saw what Matthias had been trying not to laugh about.
She had three deep sleep wrinkles on the left side of her face and her hair was smashed flat on that side, with another ratty-looking section of it standing straight up from the top of her head.
A little grooming was definitely in order. She took off her clothes and gave herself a quick sponge bath, after which she brushed her teeth, put her clothes back on and combed her hair, weaving it into a single braid down her back.
By then, she almost looked human.
Snow had piled up on the sill outside the tiny bathroom window. She went on tiptoe to peer through the clear part of the glass.
A blanket of unbroken white extended, smooth and sparkly, to the tree line. The trees themselves were more white than green. And it was still coming down.
Everything out that window looked brand-new. And she felt...gleeful.
She had someone to spend her Christmas with. And a gorgeous tree to decorate.
So what if that someone was a stranger and the tree wasn’t hers? This totally unexpected interlude in the forest was just fine with her. She felt energized, very close to happy. And ready for anything.
For the first time in a long time, she looked forward with real anticipation to whatever was going to happen next.
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