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It turns out to be the best decision ever.
Jakob and I spend long days winterizing the house and the garden. Preparing the chickens for colder days. Patching holes, fixing plumbing, chopping firewood, cooking meals. We do it all together, working and sharing duties as if we’ve already been married for eons.
It feels natural. It feels cozy.
At night, my bed becomes our bed, where we share our love, hopes and dreams.
We enjoy each other so perfectly, I almost never want to leave the house.
Almost.
24
One Month Later
Jakob
Winter comes slowly in Gravenland, but soon, word spreads that the lake is frozen and cold-weather activities are in full swing.
Jo turns to me one morning as we wash up our breakfast dishes and says, “I go back to work tomorrow, and I haven’t heard much in the way of the palace looking for you. Maybe we should venture out into the village today.”
“How can I say no to my wife?”
I’m still not used to saying it, but it still makes me happy.
On this day, we venture into the village to shop for holiday gifts and take in some hockey, hot cocoa, and ice skating.
“Josie, dear! Where have you been? We missed you at the winter festival last week,” exclaims Sandra, her stall showcasing holiday ornaments, crafts, teas, and dried herbs. Every shop and stall in the village is festively decorated for winter. Though the tourists are mostly gone, the locals bustle along the streets merrily, bundled in their winter gear.
Jo smiles and greets the older woman with a hug. “Good to see you, Sandra. Suffice it to say, we took an extended honeymoon.”
Sandra’s gaze shifts from Jo to me, her eyes wide in curiosity. “Honeymoon?”
Jo glances at me, reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Yes. We got married.”
Sandra looks like she could be knocked over with a feather. She splutters. “My goodness! When did this happen?”
Jo and I exchange knowing looks, remember that day we made it official.
“About a month ago,” she says, rather sheepishly. “In Salska.”
“Oh, Jo, you should have let the village host a proper wedding for you!” Sandra exclaims.
“We wanted to keep it small. So we eloped. Neither of us are big on extravagancies, so we just decided to do it.”
Sandra is utterly gobsmacked. “I never would have suspected. Our Jo, running off to get married.” She turns to me with shining eyes, and I can see that she really does care about Josephine. “I do hope you know what a jewel you have, Jakob.”
She hugs me hard, though her frame is thin and frail.
“Before you go—” says Sandra, opening a small paper shopping bag. She doesn’t finish that sentence but busies herself by carefully packaging some delicate holiday ornaments. We wait. She hands the bag to me and adds, “Consider this your wedding gift from me. It’s not much.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Jo assures her, but Sandra waves her off.
“Yes, I do,” the woman says firmly.
We thank her warmly, and she adds, “Be sure to stop by the pastry shop. Something tells me they might have a gift for you lovebirds.”
“What does she mean by that?” I whisper to Jo as she browses a stall selling loose leaf teas in what looks like thousands of different varieties.
