Frost

Gifts Out of Season

Mari’s favorite place to be as the afternoon sun began its slow journey beyond the hill was in a shady spot on the deck. There was usually a breeze, and she either played music on her iPod speakers for her and the baby, or she read to it. Her next ultrasound wasn’t for another few weeks – mid-August – and she would hopefully find out gender then.

She was secretly hoping for a girl.

Lying on the chaise lounge Sebastian had brought her from Wal-Mart, she looked out across the clearing toward the tree line.

Drew stood a few feet from the end of the deck.

She exhaled sharply and sat up as quickly as her belly would allow. The book dropped to the boards beneath her, and she stood shakily on bare feet.

“Hello, Mari,” he said quietly, backlit by the slowly fading afternoon.

“Drew,” she breathed. She started forward with one hand on her bump and went only as far as the edge of the deck. He came a little closer, barefoot like she was and seemingly walking on the blades of grass rather than through them.

“You look good.”

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted.

“Obviously.” He waved his hand in her general direction. “But you still look good.”

Mari really looked at him for the first time since she’d seen him at his funeral, and he looked better than he had when he’d been at peak health while living.

“I have something for you,” he said, opening his hand to reveal a small black box. “It was given to me by Mother Summer from Leanna from Jokul.” He held it out to her, and she stepped close enough to take it with trembling fingers.

She opened it, breathing in the rush of frigid air that escaped into the summer warmth. New snow and cold frost – much like Jack himself, and she closed her eyes as she remembered one of their last mornings waking up together, his slow pointed smile across the small expanse of their shared pillow.

Nestled in black silk was a snowflake hanging from dark blue ribbon. The inside of it grew and shrunk like it was a living thing, and she brushed her fingers over it; it was cool, but not cold, and would no doubt warm when against her skin. The inside seethed at her touch, almost like it wanted to wrap around her.

“It is everfrost,” Drew said quietly. “Encased in spun iceglass. That is the first hair ribbon Jokul gifted to his sister.”

It took a bit of fumbling – and she nearly dropped it – before she had it fastened around her neck, the pendant hanging level with her collarbones in the scoop neck of her dress.

“You are very beautiful.”

She snorted. “I’m getting bigger by the day.”

“Does Jokul know?” Drew asked. “The child is his, isn’t it?”

Her eyebrows rose. “Who’s kid do you think it is?”

He held his hands up, and proverbially backed off. “Does he know?”

“No.” She eased herself off the deck to sit on the edge. “And I don’t want him to know until I tell him, either.” She paused. “You have that whole issue of not lying, don’t you?”

“Correct.” He shrugged.

“Well, if he asks how I am, just say I’m good. Because I am.” She ran her fingers over the snowflake again, wondering if it was the same shape as the one Jack wore on his collarbone. It wouldn’t surprise her if it was.

“It will depend on what he uses for phrasing,” he said, sitting next to her and leaving a healthy amount of space between them. Winter pixies were a mite possessive of what they considered theirs, and Mari belonged to them as surely as Jokul or Leanna.

Mari smiled briefly, a hand absently stroking her rounded belly. “He missed you.”

“You both did.”

She took a deep breath, looked at the tree line on the other side of the yard, and said, “Do you know what he did? After you…died?”

Drew sighed heavily. “He wouldn’t leave you.” He wiggled his toes in the grass as the sun dipped lower over the horizon, the sky above them deepening to a darker blue. “I’m sorry. I was lucky, though.”

“Lucky?” Her head jerked around to stare at him incredulously. “You fucking died, Drew! How is that lucky?”

“Because I didn’t take anyone else with me in my stupidity,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “There wasn’t anybody in the Jeep with me when I wrapped it around a tree instead of hitting someone head on or something. Less than a mile down the road was a minivan with woman and her two children. She called in the accident. Can you imagine what would have happened if I hit her instead?”

Mari found she could, and she wrapped her arms firmly around her middle. The child wasn’t even out of the womb yet and the thought of losing it in such a way – or leaving it motherless – made it hard to breathe.

He smiled softly, tucking a strand of her hair behind her before kissing her on the forehead. “I am sorry. For what I did to you and what I did to Jack because of it. But I’m not sorry it was the thing that finally got the two of you to stop dancing around each other.” The smile turned brittle. “You’re good for him, Mari. He’s been good for you, too.”

She didn’t know what to say, and he took it as his cue to leave. He offered her a cheery wave before disappearing in a rush of warm air, the scent of freshly cut grass wafting over her. She fingered the pendant hanging from her neck and longed for the cold, and snow of winter.

And its Prince.