Stan and Peggy hadn’t taken any food on their trip, so they were hungry from the first day of being snowbound in the blizzard. On the second day, their carefully shepherded supply of cold coffee ran out; they couldn’t gather snow because the electric motors for the windows were frozen. On the third day they ran out of gasoline and could no longer even risk carbon monoxide poisoning to keep warm.
A few hours later, he confessed.
“Peggy,” he stammered in the cold, “I can’t die with this on my conscience. I’ve been having an affair with Lora. It’s been going on for almost five years. I even took her on the Acapulco trip, the one I told you the company wouldn’t let us take spouses on. And your mother’s diamond necklace? The one I said was stolen? I gave it to Lora. I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry.”
Peggy just stared at him, too bitterly cold to fully grasp the enormity of his words.
She awoke in the hospital a day later. Turning her head to her left she could see Stan in the next bed. She didn’t remember being rescued, but she did recall Stan’s confession.
She sat up in her bed and gingerly placed her heels on the floor. That didn’t hurt too badly and she hobbled the few steps to Stan’s bed.
“Stan?” she said softly. “Stan? Are you awake?”
“Hmmm?”
He came to consciousness quickly enough when Peggy yanked out his catheter.
Once the screaming had faded to a dull whimper, she told him, “And I’m just getting warmed up.”
Well now… mmm… a-h’m… yes. Grim times ahead for Stan. I like the pun at the end. It’s like a cherry on the cake. I mean I already got the kick of the story, then noticed the pun, and it worked again.