Chapitre 70: Chapter 70: Kirstie's Christmas, Part 10

All of us laden with holly, we return to the house. Klempner looks Michael up and down. "A change of clothes maybe?"

"No maybe about it. I'm fucking frozen." But the big, handsome blond man is laughing.

We pass the vegetable garden again. "Sprouts?" I say.

"Ah, thanks for the reminder." He scans the snow-capped stalks, chooses one and tugs it up whole, by the roots. Then another. This one resists, its feet rooted in the frozen ground. Michael tries again, but when it doesn't come free, produces his pruning saw. He brandishes the cut stalk. "That's one part of Christmas dinner sorted out."

*****

We return to find Richard stapling sheets together, several copies of the same document.

James pushes a mug of hot wine into my hands, steaming and spicy. Another into Ryan's. I suck at it and a warm glow shimmers down through my stomach to fingers and toes.