Wedgedbetweenmywonderfulhusband and our stunning, yes, but also kinda over-staying her welcome host, I can’t help but think this was not how I envisioned our couples getaway.
I consider cuddling up to Ethan, but that would hardly be fair with Juniper sitting right there.
Hmm. We should definitely dosomething?
Juniper and I heave ourselves up at the same time.
“I’m gonna—” I start.
“Do you mind if I—” Juniper begins.
We both laugh while Ethan looks up at us with a delightfully quizzical expression.
Then my stomach growls and I confess, “Sorry, but I am absolutely famished!”
Juniper cracks up laughing. “You aresoEnglish!”
Ethan stands too. “Well, I, for one, am royally ravenous myself.”
I pout. “Oh, ha ha!”
They both grin at me.
“Shall we?” Juniper gestures towards the kitchen.
“Yes.” I roll my eyes. “We shall,” I say, sounding very English indeed.
As we venture up the hallway, I say to Juniper, “So, um … in the photos … on Willow’sPicPostaccount …” I’ve spent hours, maybe even days, scouring her social media feed, looking at and promptly saving almost all the photos of this place:
Spring does with their tiny fawns, peeking from between these same surrounding firs. Summer sunlight streaming through the trees, highlighting the expanse of lush green. Autumnal gold and brown leaf fodder all around, and a couple—maybe even Willow and her husband—leaning out over that balcony. She wore a long dress, maroon, and he had on some sort of thick cable-knit jumper. It could have been a stock photo for all I knew. Maybe it was. But recently, it’s all been like this, with snow outside and warmth within. And the food, oh the food …
“Right. Yeah …” Juniper’s footsteps slow. “I was kinda hoping you wouldn’t have seen those.”
I stop in my tracks. “Why not?” My stomach growls more urgently. Please tell me we are not snowed in here with no food.
Juniper winces. “Well … I don’t exactly do those um … fancy platters …?”
In Willow’s pictures, there were these charcuterie boards. Wide, rustic wooden boards overflowing with cured meats and cheeses. Fresh fruit. Fresh bread. It all looked spectacular—and totallyPicPostworthy.
She continues, “Willow did give me a list and asked if I’d seen the photos and that, but …” She picks up her pace again, edging towards the kitchen.
“But?” I follow close behind.
We reach the kitchen, and while Ethan fetches himself a glass of water, Juniper pulls the fridge open and stands back, looking nervous. “I tried?”
I look inside and my jaw hits the floor. “Oh my god, Juniper!”
Her eyebrows rise.
“I could honestly kiss you.”
“Really?” Her shoulders slump in relief. “I so thought you were gonna be mad.”
“Mad? You’re perfect!” I say then catch myself. “It’s perfect, I mean.”
Ethan pads over, glass in hand. “Woah.” He chortles as we share the light of the fridge then he raises his glass to Juniper as if in toast. “I think you might be my wife’s dream come true.”
The fridge is chock-full of pizza. My favourite!
