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“I guess this is how the climate is now.”
Movement has me turning to look at her again, and she’s reached up and is tugging the curtains closed. When she’s done, she mock-shivers and slides back into bed. “Too cold now.”
“It is.” I’m not particularly cold, but I climb into bed too. The storm continues to howl, but soon, Kara’s breathing evens out, and I follow her back to sleep.
I wake up again,this time more refreshed. I stretch my legs, burying my face into the pillow and soft, springy hair. My nose grazes tender skin, and warmth radiates from in front of me, the duvet trapping the heat. I pull my arm tighter, dragging the source closer.
A hum vibrates from my hand up, and I open my eyes. I’m wrapped around Kara, her loose, curly hair in my face, her ass pressed against my morning erection, the backs of her bare thighs against the front of mine.
I ease back, raising my arm slowly so as to not wake her. Once I’m clear, I roll away, planting my feet on the floor and rubbing my face. Kara shifts, and I glance back. I’ve left the duvet pulled back, and her shirt has ridden up, exposing a pair of baby blue cotton panties, one side pulled up a bit higher than the other, against Kara’s smooth skin.
Her hand emerges, blindly reaching back, searching for the duvet. I’m letting the cold air in.
I gently grasp the edge and pull it to the top, all the way up to Kara’s neck, and tuck her in. She lets out a sweet hum and goes still.
I wait to make sure she’s asleep and then stand, tiptoeing into my pants and the socks I left out. I leave Kara to sleep.
Downstairs, my dad is in the back room, drinking coffee and staring out into the snow. The wind isn’t quite as bad as it was in the middle of the night, but it’s hard to tell what time it is. The light hasn’t changed, and I left my phone upstairs.
“Morning,” I say, and Papi startles, nearly spilling his coffee on the paperback he’s ignoring in his lap.
“Ah, good morning.”
“More coffee?” I ask.
“Please.”
I take his mug and retreat to the kitchen, starting the coffee maker again. I notice the time—eight a.m., later than I expected.
By the time I get back with two mugs, Papi has resigned himself to watching the snow enough to close his book.
Papi and I have always been the quiet ones in the family. Juna and Mami are always busy with activities and conversation. My sister is outgoing, and added to her athleticism, she was popular. Since I was four years younger than her, I was constantly hearing about how different we were.
I take a seat in the chair next to Papi, and we drink our coffee. It’s mesmerizing outside—a total whiteout. The cold radiates from the window, and I get up and push my chair half a meter closer to the stove.
Someone moved the drying racks to the side, and I’m sure Kara’s clothes are dry.
One by one, the family filters in. Juna leads Grosi carefully down the stairs, and we place her in one of the chairs in the front room, where it’s more comfortable and away from the cold. Bangs come from the kitchen, signaling that Mami is up, setting out bowls for breakfast and corralling us to help ourselves to muesli, yogurt, fruits.
Kara comes in just as I’ve sat down with my bowl at the table, the joggers back on and pooling around her ankles.
“Boker tov,” Mami greets her.
“Good morning,” she returns, and soon, she’s next to me with a coffee and a bowl of yogurt and fruit.
I don’t know if Mami ate, but she’s ready to start the day. The counter is lined with ingredients. My sister has used the excuse of playing games with her kids and has retreated to the front room, along with her husband and my dad.
I take the last bite of my muesli, rinse my bowl in the sink, and grab an apron from the pantry. This is the part I enjoy the most over the holidays—baking with my mother.
“That,” Kara says, “is adorable.”
When I glance up, her eyes are on me. I look down at myself. My mom’s aprons are traditional, flowery and feminine, but they do the job.
“My handsome son.” Mami pats my cheek. “Kara, we could use your help too. Pick out an apron when you’re done eating.”
“Sure,” Kara says, standing and meandering into the kitchen while she finishes the last few bites.
It’s a small kitchen for three people, and I have to be careful not to elbow my mother in the face while I’m opening the pantry to show Kara the aprons as Mami goes for a pot on one of the top shelves.
