The Baby Made at Christmas

“Lucky we weren’t talking about various other possible subjects,” Mac muttered in Lee’s ear.

“I’m ready to talk about them tonight,” she muttered back.

“When?”

“Whenever.”

Having the whole house turned them both into kids in a candy store. Mac went shopping and came back with champagne, smoked salmon, caviar and anything else that had caught his eye and said luxury. Lee filled the Jacuzzi and lit the fire. They closed the drapes, which the Narmans always seemed to prefer open, even though the curtains moved back and forth at the touch of an electronic button.

“Can we have music?” Mac asked.

“Go for it.”

He strode into the side room where there was a huge bank of audio equipment, and put on a rock compilation CD. “They really don’t mind you doing this?” he said when he came back into the kitchen.

“They ask for it specifically. They hate if the place looks dark and unattended. The lights in my little cubbyhole don’t show from the street, or from the slopes.”

“How did you get this gig, anyhow?”

“I taught some of them to ski, they started asking for me for private lessons every time they came, and it went from there. The girl I was sharing with down valley got a boyfriend and wanted him to move in. There wasn’t room for three of us. Mr. Narman was looking for a live-in janitor. The timing was right, and it’s worked out really well. I’ve been doing it several years now.”

“It definitely has worked well. I think this caviar plan of mine is going to work out pretty well, too.” He thumped the side of the jar lid on a wooden cutting board to break the seal, and twisted it open. “My only question is whether we eat in the Jacuzzi or by the fire.”

“From experience, I can tell you that eating in the Jacuzzi isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Things end up floating and getting on your skin, and caviar is not my favorite flavor in a moisturizer.” She pulled a chilled bottle out of the shopping bag. “Champagne in the Jacuzzi, on the other hand...”

So they drank champagne there, using the very nice plastic picnic champagne flutes the Narmans kept for the purpose.

“They’re pretty fussy about the possibility of broken glass,” Lee explained. She lay back in the foaming water, letting the jets bounce her gently and keep her afloat.

Mac did the same on the opposite side of the vast tub. “I can see why they like you. You keep to their rules even when they’re not here.”

“They’re nice people, despite being a touch over-the-top.”

“Why are you all the way over there, by the way?”

“Because I had to pour the champagne, and it’s sitting right behind me.”

“But now you’ve poured the champagne, and the distance is a problem.”

“What, you think we need the alpenhorn to communicate?”

“I just want you here.” He moved forward a little and held out his arm, and she went to him, sliding against him all slick and slippery with the foam, and he wrapped an arm around her bare, foamy wet butt to keep her in place, and it felt so sexy and good. “You’re so beautiful, Lee....”

“Me?” People didn’t say that about her. They said she had a strong face, a melodic voice, an athlete’s body, great hair. They said she was striking, or pretty—which was a real stretch, because she knew her face was way too strong for pretty.

“You’re beautiful,” he repeated. “Your eyes. Can’t decide if they’re blue or green. Your smile. So much life. The way you laugh is beautiful. Your mouth, all lush. The way you threw your head around with those earrings, first time I saw you.”

“Yeah?” She floated against him, pressed nose to nose and stole some kisses.

“That did it for me. I saw you, the way your hair bounced, dark gold and a little messy, and you had this look on your face.”

“And we talked as if we already knew each other.”

“It felt like we did. And now we really do.” He hiked her hips against his so she could feel what she was doing to him.

“We really do....” she whispered.

What happened next was fairly predictable.

What happened next had been happening a lot.

Still new.

Different every time.

Amazing every time.

That night, he stayed over, but he didn’t always. As the days went by, they both seemed to know when it was time for a little extra space. Mac needed to set up his new apartment. Lee had some heavy days of coaching junior racers, ahead of a competition tour to Europe that they were taking in February.

“February?” Mac said when she told him. “When in February?”

“We leave on the third.”

“The third, and you’re only just telling me?”

“I wasn’t not telling you. People are talking about it. I thought you might have heard.”

“Hmm. Well, I hadn’t.”

“Sorry.”

“No biggie. You’re telling me now. So you’ll be away how long?”

“Three weeks.”

“That long?”

“It’s a new thing we’re trying this season. Handpicked group, a little younger than usual.”

“Hope you have some parents going.”

“We do. I’m not organizing that side of it.”