Holiday Wine, with You and Me [Chaennie ]

Part 7 : When We Finally Kiss Goodnight

Jennie Kim is going to go to prison.

Of course even prison will be a relief after the drawn out, sensationalized Kim family circus trial that's bound to precede her sentence. She's going to have to speak to John Corben again, that despicable stain-on-mankind lawyer her father had always favored and who has a perplexing ability to turn Julia into a blushing, eyelash-batting "Oh, Johnny" version of herself that Jennie finds deeply disturbing.

"Are you alright?"

Jennie's distantly aware that Rosie's hand has moved from her chest to her thigh, making sure both are now thoroughly coated in garlic sauce. Then it's gone, reaching for the child in the backseat, the child Jennie's sworn to her mother to protect — her best friend, Lisa Manoban, the yellow belt Krav Maga ("Which is far more intimidating than it sounds, Jennie") badass who's going to murder her with her bare hands once she gets word of what happened here tonight.

So maybe she'll be spared from having to deal with Corben, after all.

She should text Jess to send Lisa a thank you gift basket while she still can.

Rosie's voice sounds out again, warm and gentle. "Lily, are you all in one piece back there?"

"Yeah, I was wearing my seatbelt." Lily's voice sounds okay, if a fair bit louder than Jennie's grown accustomed to. Loud enough to be heard perfectly over the ringing in Jennie's ears. "Did we just kill Santa Claus?"

"I'm sure he's fine, honey," Rosie assures Lily without a trace of irony. Gingerly, as if careful not to startle Jennie, she presses the button that turns on the hazard lights, painting the snow around them a lurid red. "Jennie?" she enquires again.

Just a little way down the mountain, Jisoo and Lisa are having their fancy rooftop dinner under the stars. They'll be clinking their champagne glasses and laughing, plotting out the rest of their lives together. Jennie's eyes are locked on the shape in the road. It still hasn't stirred. She can't breathe. If she tries, she'll probably vomit.

Lily's foot gently prods the back of her seat. "Try using your words, aunt Jennie."

Jennie swallows, straightens her shoulders, then lets it out. "Fuck."

Rosie's hand finds Jennie's knee again and squeezes. "... perhaps try using different words."

Jennie blinks, nods. Right. Language. "I'm going to prison," she corrects.

"No, look, we're alright." With the hand that's not currently occupied, Rosie reaches to release her own seatbelt, yanks as it refuses to budge.

Jennie's really not alright. "I'll have to pick up chess again."

"Everything's going to be fine." Rosie struggles some more. "Would you actually mind giving me a hand?"

Jennie sighs. Rosie would never understand. "I loathe chess."

Rosie yanks at her seatbelt again, a little more frantically this time. "You're fine. I mean. I'm sure we didn't hit—" she pauses, holding her breath for a second as she peers out through the window. "You don't think that's actually Santa?"

Jennie sets her jaw, a spark of resolve blooming inside her. "Maybe this time I'll just try to get really buff, instead."

Rosie stills. "Wait a minute. This time?" She stares at her. "Are you saying you've been to prison before?"

Jennie tears her eyes away from the crumpled mass in their headlights for the first time since they stopped and sets them on Rosie, instead. The remains of Rosie's strawberry milkshake are dripping slowly down the front of her jacket and onto the passenger seat. Rosie's never getting her deposit back. "You're aware Santa Claus doesn't actually exist, right?" Jennie wonders.