Was it possible?
Beverly enlarged the report on her screen, the glow mirroring her growing grin. Heavenly Father, it is!
The squeal came up from her toes, casting off whatever sleep lingered on her eyelids. Rolling under the cover of down that was their comforter, Beverly put her phone over Glenn's shoulder so he could see it. Well, if his eyes had been open.
"Nine inches," Beverly giggled into her husband's ear. "with ice. Snow day, babe."
She got REM-induced mumbles in reply. Something about being insane.
"Yes, God is good to us." Beverly kissed Glenn's temple and slipped out of bed so as not to disturb. Her grittiness followed her to the jack-n-jill bathroom, where she wrestled her chestnut hair into a tie. Not today, bedhead. There's too much winter to enjoy!
Everyone had been content with the so-so season the county had had this year. No slush, no fuss as any rational person might think. Good thing 'rational' didn't apply to Beverly... if only because she never stood still long enough to let it!
Hair up, Beverly snatched her fuzzy pink-striped socks off the rim of the tub where they'd been drying. Next came her terry-cloth robe, hugging her in its softness as she tiptoed for the stairs. So much to do... but first things first.
✅ BREAKFAST
"You didn't wake us up."
Beverly turned her head from the sizzling stove of potatoes and eggs. Ivan stared in the threshold of the kitchen, pajamas as lopsided as his hair. She raised her brow. "Did I need to?"
Ivan's own brow- so serious for seven- knitted together. He eyed her in confusion, hearing the Christmas music from the player, sensing the heartwarming smells of breakfast... and not getting it. Until his eyebrows rose in illumination and he dashed from sight, heading for the bay window. Beverly smiled for his excitement. Outside, he'd find the sun sparkling across a gaping field of billowy white. All the branches bowed down in their ice crowns while the sun peeked in and out of wispy clouds that promised further snowfall.
Beverly could hardly wait to feel the flakes kiss her nose and cheeks. But first, breakfast! Frolicking amid drifts of snow could not be done on an empty stomach. Beverly flipped the potatoes so they didn't burn, opening the oven with her other hand. Cinnamon wafted off the slices of french toast that were turning to gold. Ah, the joys of baking, Lord...
She was at risk of overusing that word today, but she was too happy to care. She'd been sick for the last snow day and this food had about to go to waste. She was making up for lost time. Beverly closed the oven, almost missing the coos over the baby monitor. "Ma,ma,ma,ma,ma,ma."
"Ivan." Beverly called him away from the window. "Will you go get Kaley?"
Ivan poked his head in, pouted lip in place. "But she wants you."
"I'm busy making sure we have fuel to build our fort." Beverly twirled her spatula in emphasis. "And bring your tablet down too."
"Dad's phone too?" Ivan assumed. Beverly winked. "Of course."
The policy had taken a while to fall into effect, but Beverly and Glenn looked on it now with a renewed gaze of gratitude. Evenings, holidays, and certain weeks of summer, all electronics entered 'the cabinet'. Special conditions applied to emergencies, but aside from the CD/DVD player in the living room, no device was accessible to the Marcson family until quality time had been fulfilled. Beverly's own laptop and phone were already up there, collecting dust.
Ain't nothing distracting us from this. Beverly fawned her oven mitts to pull out her perfect french toast.
~To Be Continued~
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