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Lawson
I did not mean to say that.
I did not mean to say that.
It just popped out. Like it had been waiting on the edge of my tongue, searching for the first opportunity to leap and make my life a complicated mess. As delicately as I was trying to play all this, and as difficult as our situation was, I felt like I had been doing a great job of remaining cool. Then I had to go and do that.
It’s just a phrase, though. Something you say to a friend when you’re happy about something that happened. That’s what I tried to tell myself, over and over. It didn’t mean anything. It was just a phrase. It was clearly just a spur of the moment saying.
But I knew it wasn’t true.
It might be crazy, but I knew that those words coming out of my mouth wasn’t purely an accident. She had woven herself into my life to such a degree that there was no denying that I had feelings for her. Deep feelings. I was falling in love with her every single day, spiraling further and further into a situation where I knew it was going to come out sooner or later. But I thought I would have more control over it. I would be able to dictate when and how I would approach it.
Then I just blurted it out.
There had to be a right time to discuss it, a time where we could sit down apart from all the craziness of the holiday and talk about what we were to each other. How we were going to continue from here. There was a way of approaching this with maturity and clarity that would keep us both from doing anything we would regret, or rushing headlong into something that one or both of us wasn’t ready for.
As we got back into the car to head back to the bed and breakfast, I mentally kicked myself for being so impulsive. I had to be better than that. Turning the key I almost opened my mouth to talk about it, to say something about how I didn’t mean it that way. But that would have just made it worse, and I snapped my mouth shut at the last second.
The snow was getting heavier as I pulled onto the road, cursing the fact that we had to go so far to find the toy and now had to drive through the snow. Part of the reason I chose the bed and breakfast in the first place was that it required very little driving to get to things. I wanted to remove that as an obstacle while I was there. There was nothing more annoying than driving in the snow.
But there I was, pushing slowly along the stretch of road that looped around Snowflake Hollow along its edges but was the quickest way from one edge of town to the west to the other on the east where the bed and breakfast was. I could have gone straight through the heart of the city, but the number of traffic lights and Christmas events would have made for a much slower go. At least theoretically.
Now that I was cruising at a neck-breaking speed of fifteen miles an hour, I was growing increasingly convinced that it would have been better that way. At least then there would be people. As it stood, there was nothing but a long, dark road, and snowfall making it difficult to see.
Holly say in the passenger seat, working on crocheting in the light of the snow. Even with snow falling heavily, the moonlight and occasional street light reflected off what was already on the ground and gave off tons of light. If only I could see through the heavy fall from the sky, I could make it back. But as it stood it was getting harder and harder to see, and with no one else on the road I was starting to wonder if it was safe to continue.
We made it a few more minutes before the visibility went completely and I pulled off as much as I could onto the shoulder. Holly looked up nervously from her crocheting and I smiled wanly. I wanted to leave the engine running just to keep the heat on, but we were getting low on gas. Still, I decided to risk it for a few minutes in hopes the storm would move quickly.
“This is way worse than the forecast said it would be,” Holly said. “They were calling for maybe a couple of inches.”
“This is going to be more than a couple of inches,” I muttered. “I just hope it’s a fast-moving storm.”
I pulled open my phone and looked for a weather forecast. Some of them still had the area only getting a couple inches like before, but others just said ‘snow’. As if I couldn’t see that. There was no guess as to when it would stop or how much it would dump on us in the meantime. After about ten minutes I looked over at Holly, who had made some impressive progress on her project.
“I think I am going to have to shut the engine off,” I said. “We’re getting low enough on gas that I want to make sure it can make it back to the house.”
“Okay,” she said. “It’s pretty warm in here right now. And we have those blankets in the backseat.”
I had forgotten about the blankets, an idea Holly had before we headed out. Her thought was that if we got stuck in traffic or something, it might be nice to have a blanket so she could take a nap if she needed. Now it was looking like it might be what kept her warm in the cold.
Holly put her crocheting down for a moment and fished in the back for the two blankets, handing one to me and putting the other over her lap. Once they were in place, I shut off the engine and we waited.
The snow didn’t stop. An hour or so had gone by, and all that happened was more snow piled onto the hood of the car. The heat from the engine had mostly died away, and we were pulling the blankets tighter and tighter over our bodies. My biggest concern was that we would get stuck, and now it was looking like stopping might have made that situation even worse than if I had tried to push through. Reluctantly, I sat up fully and put my foot on the brake.
I turned the key.
The car didn’t start.
“Uh-oh,” I muttered.
I tried again, and again the engine tried to turn over but couldn’t. It wouldn’t start. We were stuck, and in a mountain of snowfall.
“Hmm,” Holly said as I sat back in my seat, clearly frustrated. “So, the car won’t start back up and we’re how many miles from the house?”
“I don’t know exactly, but I’d put it at least ten miles,” I said. “At least.”
“So. No walking then,” she said.
I huffed a laugh and shook my head.
“Not this time,” I said.
This was not good. I was trying not to panic, but I knew the likelihood of the car miraculously starting or me getting us a ride and tow out of there was very low. Tow trucks weren’t easy to come by this far out, and with the weather the way it was we would be lucky to get someone to come get it at all. With it being Christmas Eve night, it was even harder to get someone to come out.
Still, I had to try. Otherwise we were going to be stuck there until morning, and I didn’t know if two blankets was going to be enough. I pulled open my phone again, glad I had charged it all the way on the car charger before I shut the car off, and dialed the number for the only tow guy in town.
It was busy. I tried again and got the busy signal once more. Holly was focused on her crocheting and I waited a little bit, hoping to get through and at least leave a message. The clock on my phone flipped, signifying five full minutes since the last call. I hit the call button again.
“Munton’s Towing,” a voice said on the other end of the line, and I exhaled loudly. I was positive I was going to get a voicemail.
“Oh, thank goodness,” I said. “I know it’s Christmas Eve, but I’m stuck on the side of the road on 18. Right at the mile marker 13, actually. The snow got so bad I had to pull off and shut off the engine, and now it won’t get going. Is there any way you could come pick us up?”
“You’re on 18?” he asked “Marker 13? Where are you headed?”
“Back to the east side of town,” I said. “The old mansion up there off of Carter’s Road.”
“Yeah, I know that place,” the driver said. “Good news is that’s right by where I am. Bad news is getting on 18 right now isn’t a good idea. The plows haven’t been able to hit it yet, and it’s a disaster out there.”
“Trust me, I know,” I said. “I’m stuck in it.”
“Well, dang,” the man on the other end, who I assumed was the Munton of Munton’s Towing, said.
“If you could help us out, I would greatly appreciate it. I can pay you in cash tonight if you can pick us up.”
“It’s not the money, sir, though I appreciate the offer,” he said. “It’s just the danger of the situation. It’s Christmas Eve, and all my other drivers are either already out or went home. I’d have to come get you myself, and that’s a good little ways out there.”
“I understand,” I said. “But we would really appreciate the effort.”
There was silence on the other end for a moment while I let the man think about the situation. He cleared his throat and seemed to make a sipping sound, like he was drinking something. Suddenly, I wanted a hot cocoa more than anything else in the entire world. Warm, happy visions of sitting by the fire with Holly and sipping one filled my head.
“All right, I’ll tell you what,” he said. “I’ll come get you myself. But it might be a little while, so just hang in there. Are you somewhere safe?”
“Off to the side of the road,” I said. “But no one else is out here, so I think we’re okay.”
“Do you have blankets or anything to keep you warm?” he asked.
I looked over at Holly. I couldn’t tell for sure, but it seemed like there was the tiniest hint of a smirk on her lips.
“Yes,” I said. “We have two blankets, but they aren’t very thick.”
“Good. It won’t be that long. I’ll get you home for Christmas. Just hang in there,” he said.
I thanked him and he hung up the phone. Sitting back in the seat, I pulled the blanket up over my shoulders and sighed. What kind of mess had I gotten us into? I opened my big, fat mouth and said something I shouldn’t have, and now I was stuck in the car with her, having put us both in danger and getting stuck in the snow.
“All we can do is wait,” Holly said. “Good news is, if we’re here long enough I will have made a third blanket we can use.”
I tried to laugh, but couldn’t. I was too worried. She was right, all we could do was wait. But all I could think about was the hope that Christmas wouldn’t be ruined.
