G.U.A.R.D. Book #1: Clandestine

-9-

    Christmas was here. I woke up to the sound of Bing Crosby's voice gently singing, "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas."

My eyes remained closed, but a smile fluttered to my lips nonetheless, and I stretched in my bed. Delicious scents of breakfast wafted into my bedroom. I sniffed in the smell of our yearly Christmas morning meal: mini blueberry muffins, banana bread, bite-size pancakes, hash browns, and finally, the strawberry, blueberry, banana, pineapple, and cherry fruit salad, with that special sauce that Mom always added.

"Is breakfast ready?" I shouted as loud as my sleepy voice would allow. When no answer came, I yelled, "Mom!"

I heard my door open, and her voice said, "If you want to ask me a question, you can just come to me instead of shouting."

I cracked an eye open and grinned. "Merry Christmas."

"Ditto," she replied, a trace of a smile on her own face.

Before she could close the door again, I asked, "Is breakfast ready?"

She snorted. "If breakfast was ready, your father would be up. Speaking of which..." Her eyes sparkled in mischief. "Think you can wake him up for me?"

I grinned. "With pleasure."

When Mom left, I quickly threw off my covers and stood up, scurrying to my closet. Deciding to leave on my pajamas, I gently placed my mint-and-white striped cardigan sweater around my arms. Lastly, came the rabbit slippers I had gotten for Christmas two years ago.

Snuggling up in the warm sweater, I walked out of my room and hurried up the stairs, passing Mom's smirk in the kitchen.

"Smells great!" I told her as the aroma multiplied so close to the food.

"'Course it does!" she retorted.

I laughed and continued on my dash to the upstairs. The parents' room was a large one, with white walls and wooden flooring. A white, shaggy rug lay on the ground just in front of the double bed, which had light wooden framing and a white covering. In between the two was a wooden chest that had pictures of family decorated on top. A wardrobe on the left of the door stood next to a vanity. Nightstands sat on both sides of the bed. A window with white curtains on the right wall showed snow still decorating our lawn. The last type of furniture in the room was a brown, cushy recliner chair in the far, right corner.

Dad's figure lay sprawled all over the bed in his "manly" (as Dustin and I put it) PJ's with the sheet lazily on top of him, and I smiled. Running up to him, I leapt on top of the bed and began jumping on it, making sure to kick off my rabbit slippers before doing so. Of course, I would never usually do this, and my parents would most certainly not let me. But Christmases were an exception.

Dad's eyes sprang open, and he sat up. But then he saw me, and the familiar crinkling smile appeared on his face.

"You little...!" He laughed, grabbing me around the midsection and dragging me down next to him. I giggled and squealed as he began to tickle my sides. Breaking free, I rushed from his grasp and stopped at the door to his bedroom with an excited gleam in my eye.

"Merry Christmas," I said simply. Then I raced downstairs again, completely forgetting my rabbit slippers in the fun. It wasn't long before Dad was downstairs, holding them. He tossed the pair to me, and I caught them easily. Mom walked past him, and she seemed to catch his eye. I watched in amusement as my father looked her up and down while she carried a spatula in one hand and placed a plate full of banana bread on the table. When my mother walked back to the stove, where the bite-size pancakes were cooking, Dad grabbed her around the waist and tripped her in a dip. Then he leaned down and gave her a passionate kiss on the lips. I cleared my throat and looked away. Well... that wasn't awkward at all. Dustin tramped down the stairs at that moment and froze when he saw the parents. He looked at me, and I shrugged helplessly. He wasn't the only one who found the parents making out gross.