Second practice from the Finding Your Voice class I bought from Holly Lisle. This is not an affiliate link, although if you decide you want to buy a class from her, you can contact me, and I’ll set one up so we both benefit. *smile*
I remember that winter most because of the way it broke my parents. The snows were heavy and deep, and the ice thick and crusted on the trees. Branches bent and bent and finally broke, falling on power lines and casting our house into unprecedented darkness.
I sat up from where I lay curled beside my boyfriend and looked across the sudden dimness, stark against the white snow outside my bedroom window. Clark shifted and slid his arm around me, drawing me closer. “Hey babe,” he said. “You know what this means?”
I arched a brow at him, but he couldn’t see it. “What?” I finally said when he didn’t continue.
He leaned close and whispered. “Power’s out. Got to keep warm.”
I laughed at the brush of whiskers against my cheek. “Clark, it’s my parents’ house.”
He snorted, the noise harsh in my ear. “We’ll be quiet.”
“Right,” I said, but I didn’t push him away, and I probably should have. In fact, looking back at this, I definitely should have. But I didn’t, and he didn’t, and we didn’t hear my parents pull up the driveway.
And in a dark and silent house, they heard us. Very clearly in fact. And they stood in the shadowed doorway to the garage and wavered. Should they try to close the door quietly and sneak back out to the car? Should they just wait and hope we finished? Should they make noise and hope we noticed and stopped?
Whatever Mom would have done, Dad cut her off with a decidedly amorous kiss. This was, judging from the slap that resounded through the house loudly enough that we paused, was the absolute worst response.