Jingle Belled and Mistletoed

by Jeanette Lynn

  En garde, you evil knave, I thought as I stuck my tongue out at Dean.

  Dean let out a fake gasp that had Mom pausing so suddenly it was eerie, turning back towards us to eye us each warily.

  Blinking, I gave her a sweet enough smile and an innocent expression.

  She raised a brow at that, her gaze narrowing on Dean, lingering, but turned back to the stove a minute later.

  "Shit starter," I whispered at Dean fiercely through the side of my mouth when Mom wasn't looking.

  "Daddy's girl!" he whispered back, making sure Mom was otherwise occupied.

  "Mama's boy," I hissed out, cracking a huge smile when my barb hit its mark, effectively making the score Jinny-one, Dean-zero as Dean huffed and puffed beside me.

  "Get your asses out here!" Dean's father, Arnold, yelled at us.

  We both grinned when his mother gasped and a heavy whack drifted in from the dining room.

  "Ouch! What? I'm hungry and those two are fiddle farting around in there!" Arnold grumbled indignantly.

  "You are incorrigible!" Dean's mother harrumphed.

  ˙˜˙˜˙

  The Jinnish Inquisition

  ˙˜˙˜˙

  We walked back out into the living room and I chose the seat closest to Fred, plopping down next to him as he smiled in greeting.

  This is perfect, I thought as I scooted my chair a little closer to his. I've got some business with good old Frederick over here anyway.

  "So, level with me here, Freddy boy," I began conversationally, though the friendship train was already setting to sail here, "why are you two really here, and cut the bullshit. I know you, my friend, and I don't buy it. You didn't just stop by to say hello and get a flat tire, like Mom claims. So, what's really going on?" Eyeing my buddy-ol’-pal questioningly, the pressure was on and strengthening, and I had no intention of letting up. Did they all really think me such a fool? Hah!

  Fred’s eyes darted around and he grimaced, admitting quietly, practically under his breath, "I'm sorry, Jin, you have to know none of this was my idea, alright.” Blowing out a long breath, small but warm brown eyes looked to me beseechingly.

  "I'm listening." Making a quiet clucking noise with my mouth as my tongue slowly ran along my teeth, purposely looking to my plate while I gave him a moment, I played with the fork on my plate, stabbing a piece of sausage, then, bringing it to my lips, bit the end of it off viciously, all the while making sure Fred got my meaning clearly. Finished chewing, taking my time in doing so, I looked to the gulping man next to me warningly.

  And the beans, they began spilling.

  "Well, uh, your mom thought... Ah, erm, that is,” he stammered out before clamming up.

  Making a displeased sound in my throat, I set my sausage and fork down slowly, shifting ever so carefully in my seat, turning to face him fully. He had my full, undivided attention now. "Beg pardon? My mom did what?"

  "She planned this whole thing out. The only reason I came too was because you're my friend and I wanted to make sure Will didn't get out of hand. He has it in his head that you two could get back together. He ran into your mom at the store last week and those two concocted this whole scheme, in hopes of getting you two back together," he blurted out in a rush, looking both completely apologetic as I stared at him, shocked, and for the most part relieved, as if glad to be rid of carrying around the burden of keeping his trap shut.

  "I'm sorry, Jin. I know what really happened," he whispered as he patted my hand awkwardly. "Will told me once when he got drunk at my cousin's wedding a few years ago. He blubbered like a baby about what he'd done. I couldn't, in good conscience, let him come here, taking you on by surprise like that, sideswiping you, without offering you any back up."

  "It was a long time ago, Freddy,” I mumbled faintly, speaking in half-truths, “he doesn't have the power to hurt me anymore, not like he did then, but thanks for coming to do damage control." Pulling myself together, I sat up a little straighter, back up, chin out, and smiled at him.

  It was crazy how things that happened so long ago sometimes had a tendency to come back, popping up when you least expected it. Like, say, a crappy ex with issues. Har-not so har.

  What does William think getting back together now is going to do?

  "Are you two done having a private conversation over there? I'd like to eat this millennia," Dean grumbled good-naturedly, smirking at me when I looked his way to let me know he didn't really mean it.

  Snorting, I rolled my eyes at that, and him, but caught the dirty looks Vincent was giving Fred from my other side.

  Huh. What’s that all about?

  As if he could feel the weight of my stare, Vincent glanced at me, catching me studying him, and purposely blanked his expression.

  When did he get here, I wondered. I hadn't even heard him approach, let alone sit down. Had he overheard what we'd been saying?

  "Have a pleasant rest?" Miriam asked Vincent, popping me out of my own thoughts as she passed around the first platter.

  Ooooh. French toast! Yum!

  Mood lifting, if only temporarily, I licked my lips in anticipation and snagged a couple of slices, dousing them liberally with powdered sugar, and dug in, forking up a bite of sugary goodness.

  This is all going to go straight to my ass, I thought ruefully, grimacing at my forkful. Shrugging mental images of my soon to, very near to be in the future if I didn’t stop chowing down on crap like this, humongo-butt off, I sniffed that fork-load of sugary-bits-of-deliciousness appreciatively and took a bite.

  French toast, if only today, for the holiday and all, couldn’t be denied. That aroma, it didn’t just call to me, it sang so sweetly my teeth ached. I was given no choice, really, or so I’d tell myself later thinking about this, I had to heed its call.

  "Mmmm, so good." I moaned the words out quietly as I chewed happily.

  Vincent, who must have bionic hearing, coughed suddenly, spluttering and choking on his coffee for what felt like a solid minute. His sudden fit calling my attention to him, I reached out and thumped him on the back a couple of times, grabbing his water glass to hand him some of my water. He was choked up pretty good there.

  "You alright?" I asked as I set the glass down in front of him, easily within his reach, and unconsciously went to rub his back comfortingly.

  "Stop. Touching. Me," he got out between coughs, his eyes blurry, they were watering so bad.

  Stung by his rebuke, I pulled my hand away quickly, turning beet red. Properly chastised and remembering exactly who this was I was dealing with here and what the hell had I been freaking thinking, blinking rapidly as his words slowly sank in, I cleared my throat and looked away, opting to stare down at the contents of my plate.

  "So," John, my dad, began speaking conversationally to someone at the table, "how about that big game last weekend, huh? Anybody see it?"

  The men all turned their attention to football and I made a mental note to give the man a big old thank you kiss on the cheek later. Dad always was one to diffuse a situation.

  "Jinny?" Vincent murmured tentatively, once he'd gotten his coughing fit under control and everyone forgot I existed for the moment, but I ignored him and turned towards Fred, asking him more about Mary.

  ˙˜˙˜˙

  Sure. When pigs fly! Ha!

  ˙˜˙˜˙

  "Whose idea was this, anyway?" Dean sighed, looking at his lopsided snowman as if he just stared at it long enough, it would melt into the proper snowman-like shape and all would be well.

  "Our mothers," I told him simply, humming along as I gave my little frosty man a carrot nose and two eyes made out of coal. "Ta-dah!" I called gleefully as I took a step back, eyeing my little snowman, complete with my extra scarf and Dean's old cowboy hat.

  "Why the cowboy hat?" William asked as he came walking up behind me.

  "It's in honor of my current living quarters. He needed a little pick up in his giddy up," I explained, giggling at my bad pun.

  "Are you seeing anyone, Jinny?"
William asked, stopping when he was just beside me, putting us nearly shoulder to shoulder as he looked over my snowman critically.

  "I know why you're here, Geralds," I told him, cutting the crap. Gaze swiveling to meet his, I raised a brow questioningly. "Why now? It's been years. Why do you care now? Do you need closure or something?"

  William’s lips thinned and his eyes narrowed slightly. He decided to go with the silent man, stone faced deal.

  "You could just say you're sorry and we could be done with it," I ventured reasonably, studying his face. Lips thinned, that tightening around his eyes, someone wasn’t very happy right now. Hah.

  "I don't want to apologize." Eyes narrowing further, he frowned over at me. "I want a second chance."

  "Why?" I asked skeptically, totally at a loss as to why—why? Why? Why?—kind of irritated that silly little me wasn't even going to get an I'm sorry out of the little weasel.

  "Because," he sighed, glancing away, taking his frowning face with him to direct it at my snow-cow-ropin’ snowman-cowboy, "I know I can trust you. You've never been interested in mine or my parents’ money. My parents love you, and you and Fred have always been chummy, so..." he trailed off, looking anywhere but at me.

  "So...?" I prompted, patiently waiting for him to continue while he studied the tree line in the distance.

  "So," he cleared his throat, fighting off a grimace, "when I ran into your mom at the store, I chatted her up and asked her how you were doing.”

  My eyebrows shot up to my hairline, because that didn’t really explain anything. Not really. But he wasn’t done yet.

  William turned to me then, a small, rueful smile tipping his lips. “It got me to thinking, kitten," he cajoled, using the dreaded pet name he'd used with me once upon a time, "and I remembered how good it had been between us. How much fun we'd had, the things we'd shared. We were together for two years, Jinny. That meant something to me.” When I didn’t immediately respond, he murmured quietly, “We were good together."

  Smiling hopefully, he searched my face for any hint I shared the same feelings. I didn't, and let him know.

  "Yes, I know it well," I told him honestly, "I gave two years of my teenage life—we were kids, Will—to a guy, a boy, who dumped me the day after we'd had sex, then stood by while his new varsity buddies tore my dignity to shreds, relating the tale of... what was it they called it?” Making a sound in my throat, I tapped my finger along my chin thoughtfully, as if I needed time to try and recall. "Oh, that's right!” I exclaimed, my entire demeanor swiftly changing, until I was staring at him darkly. “The day Geralds nailed his whale," I clipped out coldly, my eyes boring into his as he began to squirm uncomfortably. "So excuse me if I don't share the same reminiscent warm and fuzzies with you."

  And with that, I marched off towards the house, head held high, trekking through the steadily falling snow.

  ˙˜˙˜˙

  It’s going down!

  ˙˜˙˜˙

  After I changed out of my wet snow clothes, I hung them in the shower to dry and headed for the kitchen, where the scent of cocoa was wafting out strongly.

  Mom had her back to me as I walked in. She was stirring the cocoa I’d been smelling, her spoon making slow, lazy circles in the pan of chocolatey awesomeness set up on one of the stove’s many burners, humming along to the small portable radio sitting on the countertop on low as she went.

  "I know what you did," I told Mom quietly, my mother's back suddenly stiffening as she stirred the spoon in the pan a little faster.

  Mom cleared her throat but didn’t respond. You’d almost think I hadn’t spoken at all, if not for her movements growing jerky.

  Rolling my shoulders, knowing it was too soon to tense up completely just yet, I sighed and let it begin. "Mom, you have no idea what went on between us back then and you shouldn't have butt in. I know you mean well, but it's my life and if I decide to stay single, well, then that's my deal."

  Smoothing out my expression, I grabbed a kitchen towel the second I heard the tell-tale sign of the sniffles, sidling up behind her to take over stirring the pan as I handed over the towel and she wiped her face.

  "I just wanted you to be happy, Jinny Belle," she wailed, turning and wrapping me up in a death grip, the waterworks on full blast as she began to soak my shirt.

  "Mom, I understand that... but you should have asked me first."

  "Oh! Like that would have worked! You would have told me NO!" she shrieked, my ears ringing as she wailed a little too loud, way too close to my face.

  "Mom..." I tried, but she ranted on.

  "And how will I ever get any grandchildren out of you if you- If you- If you..." she hiccupped out.

  I’m sorry, say what?

  "That's what this is all about?!" I bellowed the words at her angrily, shocking her with my sudden outburst. Well, you know what, gotta say I was a bit shocked, too, just not for the same reasons. "Y-y-you... you wanted grandchildren?! Not be happy, Jinnny, or it’s because I love you, Jinny, but go get knocked up and pop out some grandkids for me, Jinny?!" Grunting in disgust, I dropped the spoon on the counter, not sparing her another second of my freaking time, and huffed out of the room, miffed at her and the world in general as I passed the entryway, spotting my Dad and William in a heated argument.

  William's bags were packed and sitting at his feet as he tried to get past dear old Dad to get outside.

  "It's storming out there now, son,” Dad said gently but sternly, “I can't let you go out there in a blizzard. What if something happens to you?"

  Surprised, though I really shouldn’t be, I peeked out the front window and found, sure enough, it was storming out there like nobody’s business.

  "Fred left," William argued.

  "That was four hours ago," I butt in absently. "You wouldn't be able to see three inches in front of your face in this weather, dude," I told him, waving my hand, motioning towards the window as I stepped back.

  "You might wanna go check on Mom," I forewarned Dad, turning my attention to him. "We got into it and she's bawling her eyes out over the cocoa."

  Leaving it at that, and Dad to tend to Mom and William to- Hell, I didn’t really care what William did—I grabbed a spare blanket from the hall linen closet and made my way into the garage, opening up a funky, bright orange and pink, oddly shaped, goofy looking folding lawn chair to slump into it. Focusing on my breathing, soaking up then silence and the cold, I let it wash over me, seeping into my skin.

  I must have been sitting there for a while, ruminating, before Dean found me.

  The door opened with a resounding creak, closing in a similar fashion, and that familiar, heavy tread thumping closer had me glancing up.

  He didn't say anything at first, just pulled out another funky, folding chair and sat down beside me.

  "Wanna talk about it?" he asked, once the silence had become too much for him.

  "Not really." Pulling my knees up into the chair, I sighed and snuggled into my blanket a little more.

  "Wanna get sauced up on beer and get nekked?" He grinned lecherously, getting the grin out of me he'd been looking for.

  I shoved him and settled back into my seat.

  "No to the nakedness." Shaking my head, I giggled. "And I'm still debating on the beer. I'm not much of a drinker, Dean, you know that," I said slowly, waffling.

  "Come on, Jin Jin. I'll sneak you back into the house if you drink a little too much. Come on. It'll be fa-la-la-la fu-uh-uuunnnn," he cajoled, caroling that last part out to some corny Christmas song.

  "Oh, alright,” I relented, giving him pause not two seconds later when my finger shot up and I pointed, aiming that wiggling digit right at his thick chest. “But, if you let anyone witness my drunken stupidity, I swear I'll never forgive you."

  "I promise," he solemnly swore as he hopped up and hurried to the garage fridge, grabbing out a couple of six packs to get our little party started.

  ˙˜˙˜˙

  Twenty eight bottles of beer on the
wall

  ˙˜˙˜˙

  "I am sooo glad your mom's asleep or I'd have to worry about two pissed off women in the morning," Dean muttered as he carried me to my room.

  "Oh, Deanie Wienie! It's too bad I never fell for you," I announced way too loud, "you have the cutest little bubble butt." Grinning down at the booty in question, I giggled, pinching his ass as he tried to slink his way down the hall, a very drunken me over his shoulder, carting my half dead carcass around fireman’s carry style.

  "Would you quit that?!” he fairly yelped out, following the surprised squeak that preceded my harsh pinch. “Leave my ass alone, woman!" he grumbled as I giggled, my fingers mimicking crab pincers, and kept it up.

  We eventually made it to our room and he dumped me on the bed, laughing when I smiled at him and rolling, bumping in a pillow, a pillow I knew exactly whom it belonged to, hugging it to my chest. Snuggling Vincent's pillow, nuzzling it affectionately, I found myself inhaling deeply as I rolled over to lay face down into it, given in to the sudden urge to wallow in his scent, sprawling out across the bed in the process.

  "What's wrong with, Jinny?" A rather sexy, deep voice asked as the bathroom door opened and the pillow owner himself came out. Peeking up through the thick fall of my hair that had tumbled into my face, I found Dean’s younger brother looking freshly washed, his hairs slicked back, a sheen of moisture dotting his bare chest. The man was waltzing around in nothing but a towel, the material wrapped around his trim waist hugging his lean hips.

  Shifting to get a better view, I looked up, studying my quarry, and sighed, the sound long and loud, at all the yumminess that is Vincent. "You look good enough to eat, Stuffy," I mumbled, lifting up enough to rest my chin on my fist. When Vincent’s eyes widened and he looked to his older brother, I found that equally as irresistible. Adorably befuddled, I thought. A small smile tipped my lips, until I was outright grinning like a fool, the longer that dumbfounded look plastered itself to his befuddled mug. Pursing my lips, I sighed dreamily and began to blow noisy kisses at the shocked man, ignoring the way Dean was starting to stare at me worriedly.