The Cosmic Law of French Toast

Day Eleven: Quilts

"Some honeymoon," Andrea said, propping her hands on her hips. "Hiking?"

"How many times do I have to tell you that it's not a honeymoon," Melinda sighed. "What with us having been married for six months, it's not a honeymoon."

"Yeah, but it's not like you did anything then, so this is your closest bet," Andrea said, sighing and flopping onto Melinda's bed. "Whoa, this is springy! Did Jim pick this out?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Melinda replied, frowning as she took clothes from her closet.

"This bed is so comfortable," Andrea said in awe, rolling all over it and giggling. "So springy but still firm. Wow. Does it make sex, like, twice as amazing?"

Melinda quirked a brow. "I can't say I've ever noticed."

"Well, cause you guys must do it all over the place, right?" Andrea wondered, bouncing up and down.

Melinda blushed. "Well, there have been locations other than the bed," she hedged, and quickly held up a pink sweater. "Yea or nay?"

"Yea," Andrea said. "You look sweet in pink. How long are you going to be gone, again?"

"Three or four days," Melinda said. "It depends on the weather and if Jim gets called in. He did arrange to switch shifts and everything but if we're on the third day and he gets an emergency call...he's not going to say no."

"Got it," Andrea said, stood up and walked to Melinda's closet. "Ooh, I like this one."

Melinda frowned at the slinky red top. "That's not really hiking appropriate," she responded, walking over. "But I do like how it makes me look."

"Especially when you wear your hair up," Andrea counseled, her voice sly.

"Hmm," Melinda said, and after a moment of hesitation, placed it in the suitcase. "It won't take up much room, so why not?"

"Indeed," Andrea said. "How many bras are you taking?"

Melinda stopped. "Two? Do I need more?"

"Don't you want more?" Andrea questioned.

Melinda just shook her head. "Not really, and they're a pain to pack. Can you just help me pick out some pieces that will be warm? It may be March but you can never tell about snow in Grandview. I wouldn't trust it to not snow in April."

"True enough," Andrea groaned. "It killed me last Spring when I was going to my friend's wedding, you know, Vera? I was planning to wear this strappy thing, with orange and blue up here, I showed it to you, right?"

"Yeah, you did," Melinda said absently, slowing in folding up a pair of jeans. "You would have looked amazing, Andrea."

"I know, but then it blizzarded and I ended up in velvet and turtleneck," Andrea grumbled. "She didn't even have a reception, in the end."

"But she made up for it in July, with that beach party," Melinda reminded. "That was fun and I was glad that she made time to do that."

"Yeah, but you can't wear that kind of dress to the beach," Andrea finished. "Okay, I've got a job to do. What in your closet is warm?" She looked at the clothes, hands propped on her hips. "Hey, Melinda, what kind of stuff is this cabin stocked with?"

"Oh, I don't know, it's one of Jim's buddies'," Melinda said. "He hunts so he keeps a cabin up there. It should have everything. I at least know that it has a functioning toilet."

"Really?" Andrea said. "Cause that's what scares me about camping. No plumbing."

"He got some sort of...doohickey and there's fully functioning plumbing," Melinda said. "He put a lot of money into it."

"Good," Andrea said. "So you'll survive this weekend after all."

"Yes, we will," Melinda chuckled. "The shower is tiny and the shower head really short, but we'll manage."

"And it has everything else? Heating, food, whatever?" Andrea asked. "Furniture?"

Melinda shrugged. "I'm trusting Jim that his friend has a good cabin," she replied.

Andrea sighed. "Just in case...I mean, it could get really cold...take your heaviest quilt."

"Why?" Melinda asked, but Andrea was already darting to her linen closet out in the hall. Melinda followed her.

"What are you doing? That could fill an entire suitcase all by itself!" Melinda protested as Andrea pulled out a huge, down quilt that had been a wedding gift. "We never even used that!"

"You should, down is super warm," Andrea said, grunting as she pulled it out.

"It also attracts dust mites like heck," Melinda said.

"Then don't take it out of the plastic," Andrea said, heaving it onto the floor in triumph. "Oh, yeah, this girl is strong. Have you seen my arm muscles lately, Melinda? I mean really looked at them. I've really been working out."

"I know," Melinda said, reluctantly loading the quilt into an empty suitcase. "There, all set."

Andrea smiled in triumph.

The drive was north east, almost going into Vermont. Melinda took Jim's hand in her own and held it tight, occasionally bringing it to her lips as they drove.

"She continued to come, and although Betsy felt a little silly she delighted in the puffs. Sustained by them she joined Tacy in singing the "Cat Duet" at Zetamathian Rhetoricals. It was definitely childish but it had to be sung; it had become a tradition in the Deep Valley High. Betsy read an original poem for rhetoricals. It was named "Those Eyes" and sounded a little like Poe. She wrote more poems than stories on Uncle Keith's trunk this year – when she found time to write at all. This was usually late at night, when she had finished her homework or come in from a party. The house would be quiet; cold, too, sometimes, but she put on a warm bathrobe. She curled up beside the trunk and read poetry and wrote it, and she had an uncanny feeling then, too. This wasn't Betsy Ray, the "popular" girl. This wasn't Betsy Ray, the Okto Delta," Melinda paused in her reading. "What do you think so far?" She asked Jim.

"I'm not sure why she's making such bad choices, when she obviously doesn't even enjoy it that much at this point," Jim said, making a turn as they went higher up.

"Yeah, but that's humanity for you, right?" Melinda said, carefully closing Betsy Was a Junior with the realization that they were about to reach their destination. "I mean, think of what you wouldn't do in high school to be popular."

Jim shrugged. "I didn't care about being popular," he replied.

"Because you were," Melinda said.

"Not consciously, but I suppose I was," Jim said and chanced a look at Melinda. She'd taken his hand in both of hers, looking down at her lap. "Oh, Mel. Popularity isn't everything and you know that."

"Yeah, but sometimes...I just look back and wonder what it would have taken," Melinda said. "Just to...not be an outcast. For someone, anyone, to know my name beyond Meloona who spoke to spirits."

"I hate that that happened to you," Jim said immediately. "But I bet you turned out 200% better than any of your so-called popular classmates did."

"Well, I'm the one that has you," Melinda said. "So I guess you're right."

"You've got a lot more going for you than just me," Jim chuckled, as they pulled up in front of a cabin. "I think we found it," he said happily, pulling his hand from hers. "Let me just go check."

He hopped out of the car, studying the piece of paper with the instructions and directions written on it from his friend, Louis. Melinda watched him, watched how his brow crinkled, as an old man came out to question why Jim was there.

Melinda pressed a hand to her forehead and supressed a headache, and then a shiver as Jim got back into the car a moment later. "Not quite," he said. "But this Mr. Morrison gave me directions and I know where I'm going now."

He waved to the man and Melinda smiled too, as they pulled out and turned.

"This isn't a road," was Melinda's first sentence.

"Yes, it is," Jim said.

"It's dirt," Melinda said.

"Cars are allowed to drive on it. We're up this mountain," Jim said, glancing at her. "You still okay with this?"

Melinda sighed. "It's going to be a completely private weekend with you," she said. "I'm fine."

"Glad you still feel that way," he smiled and took her hand again, resting it on his lap in a loose grip.

She smiled in return and made up her mind to continue being happy as Jim made tricky turns and went increasingly off-road, until they were standing in front of...

"This is a luxury cabin?" Melinda blurted, before she could help herself.

She got out of the car with Jim, huddling behind him for shelter from the bracing wind as he struggled to unlock the door.

It swung open with a creak and Melinda cautiously stepped inside, going straight to the bathroom. A few tests revealed that the plumbing, at the very least, was functioning, even if nothing else in the cabin was. Thank god.

She stepped back out into the main room, where Jim waited with a worried look on his face. "Okay?" He asked, spreading his arms.

She reflected grimly that, standing like that, he almost filled the cabin up.

"It's great," she returned. "Now let's get our luggage inside."

"Why did you have that extra suitcase?" He questioned as they labored, a few minutes later. "I thought we agreed on one, or two if you felt like it, but three? And this is a monster sized one!"

"I decided I needed it," Melinda hedged, slamming the car trunk and Jim locked the doors of the car as they went inside, flopping the suitcases on the floor and closing the cabin door behind them.

Jim lit the kerosene lamp above them. "No electricity," he commented.

"I thought there was a space heater," Melinda questioned. "And a bed."

Jim bit his lip. "I don't see them," he admitted, going to a closet. "But here are two sleeping bags!"

"Not quite the same thing," she said, shivering.

Jim walked swiftly over, folding his arms around her. "It's fine, it's good, we'll survive," he murmured.

"Maybe if we don't freeze to death," Melinda said, just as the wind outside took on an ominous howl. Melinda flinched and ran to the window, Jim right behind her.

"Those are blizzard clouds," Melinda said.

"I think so, yeah," Jim said.

They managed a small dinner as the wind outside turned into snow and ice. It banged at the door and Jim was obviously worried about it.

He spread the sleeping bags out on the floor.

"Ready?"

"No," she responded, and unzipped the bags.

"What are you doing? That's where we're sleeping, Mel!" Jim protested.

She spread them out flat, overlapping so that it was more than enough room for the both of them. "I want to cuddle," she said.

"But then we don't have a top quilt," Jim said.

"Oh, we do," Melinda responded and pulled it from the suitcase. "Andrea convinced me to pack it and I am so glad she did."

Jim watched, a bit astounded, as Melinda made their bed up for the night. "It looks comfortable," he admitted.

"Good," Melinda said and pulled her shirt over her head.

"What are you doing?" He asked, watching her as she wiggled out of three sweaters and a tank top before reaching her bra.

"Taking off my clothes," she said, pulling the jeans from her hips.

He watched carefully, then walked forward. "Can I help?" He asked, moving his hands to her bra fastening.

"Please," she purred.

A/N: Next on my to-do list:

(mini) high school AU for Jimel.

Period piece for Jimel. I'm just not sure where I'd put them. I do like the 1890s...

Also, I'm going to have an extended version of this chapter up on AO3. It will just be chapter 37 of The Cosmic Law of French Toast there, because AO3 allows explicit stories and ffnet doesn't. I won't make a different story there, though. Just want to clarify.

I'll let you guys know when I have that extended version up. Haven't quite put the finished touches on it yet.