She took his hand. Her fingers curled around his like they had been made for each other. He couldn't help marveling at his luck. His mate was so perfect. Even her hands were perfect.
"Hot cider sounds great,” she replied. “As long as we buy it somewhere other than right here. I’m completely done with any drink that has shots or sprinkles or syrup."
"Totally understandable. There’s the stalls around the park. We should be able to get something there without all the frills.”
As they walked hand-in-hand to the park, holiday music blared out every time someone went in or out of a shop as they passed. Annabeth winced every time. Norris felt terrible for her. The holiday season had to be so hard on her.
"Have you thought of getting a new job?” he asked.
"I would if I could get one in my field. But you know how hard it is to find paying jobs in marine biology, especially when you're still in grad school. Being a barista is a job that's always in demand, has flexible hours, and pays...” She gave a sarcastic shrug. “...okay."
"Yeah, I know what you mean. I put myself through graduate school working at a car wash. But..." He frowned and rubbed his hand against his jaw, trying to figure out how to talk about it without seeming pushy.
Before he could figure it out, he was distracted by the row of stalls at the park entrance. In summer they sold ice cream and lemonade and shaved ice, but now they sold hot cider, hot chocolate, and hot roast chestnuts.
“There you go.” Norris indicated the nearest hot drink stall.
“I’d like a medium hot cider," said Annabeth.
The stall owner, a stocky man in a puffy coat and a hat with ear flaps, asked, "Would you like cinnamon syrup, cider syrup, apple syrup, streusel sprinkles, whipped cream, toasted dried apple flakes, caramel drizzle, extra cinnamon –"
"Plain, please," said Annabeth.
The stall owner stared at her.
"She's a barista," Norris explained.
"Oh," the stall owner said, nodding. "Got it. And what would you like?"
"Hot chocolate, please," said Norris. "Plain."
Once they got their piping hot drinks, they headed over to the next stall and got a paper bag of hot roast chestnuts with steam rising up from them. But when he took it, he realized that he now had both hands full. He’d meant to hold hands with Annabeth, and now he couldn’t.
“Put it in your coat pocket,” she suggested. “We can just reach in when we want one.”
He stuffed the bag of chestnuts in his coat pocket. They warmed him, but not as much as Annabeth being on the exact same page as him about the relative importance of chestnuts and hand-holding. She reached into his pocket and snagged a roast chestnut. It was a small moment, but such an intimate one. He wanted to have her reaching into his coat pocket for the rest of their lives.
As they walked through the park, he remembered Fen’s advice to point out the beauty of the snow. The snowwasbeautiful. But when he was trying to do it for a specific purpose, it made him feel awkward and tongue-tied, like he no longer remembered how to speak English.
Just do it,he told himself.Turn her least favorite season into her most favorite.Or at least an acceptable, non-horrible season.
"Look at the beauty of the snow,” he said, feeling like a robot. "It’s so... beautiful. And wintery.” Was that even a word?
Characteristic of winter,put in his Dunkleosteus.
Humans don’t talk like that,said Norris.
“Winter-like,” he tried. “Wintresque?"
Annabeth stared at him as if he’d... Well, not as if he’d turned into a Dunkleosteus, because if he had she'd be staring with delight and amazement. She was staring at him as if they’d turned the corner and run into –
They turned the corner and ran into a Santa Claus. He was sitting in a wooden sleigh pulled by life-size plastic reindeer, surrounded by children and their tired-looking parents. Rudolph’s light-up nose flickered in a migraine-inducing manner.
In a very bored voice, Santa Claus said, "Ho. Ho. Ho."
Without thinking, Norris whispered to Annabeth, "I have a machine gun."
She burst out laughing. Several parents turned to stare at them. The Santa, who probably thought they were laughing at him, glared so ferociously that the child in his lap shrank back.
