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“What are you doing?” I asked as Lawson shifted in the seat and moved out from behind me. He wrapped the blanket around me tightly and then put his hand on the handle of the driver’s door.
“Don’t go anywhere,” he said. “When I open this door it’s going to let out a lot of heat, so I’m going to go as fast as I can. Just stay here.”
“What?” I asked, shocked. “You can’t go out there. It’s freezing!”
“I’m not walking all the way back,” he said. “Just to the nearest exit. It should be for Gayton Road. There’s a Sheetz up there that’s twenty-four-hours. I just need to make it there and find someone to help us. It’s almost Christmas, and we are going to be home for it.”
I was about to respond when what he said hit me like a ton of bricks. He called it home. My heart warmed and my cheeks blushed in spite of the cold.
“You can’t go without me,” I said. “Either we both stay or we both go.”
Lawson’s eyes narrowed and he paused for a few moments before finally nodding.
“Okay,” he said. “But bring the blankets. Wrap them around you.”
“You take one of them,” I said. “You need to stay warm, too.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said. “You need to keep warm.”
I realized he wasn’t going to take any other arguments from that as he turned his attention out the window. Then, grabbing a duffel bag from the back, he opened it up and started rummaging through it. He pulled out a couple of older looking t-shirts, a couple pairs of white socks, and a pack of gum.
“First, how much stuff do you have in there, and second, why the gum?”
“I always have a gym bag with a couple pairs of clothes to change in to,” he said. “I told you, I travel a lot and sometimes I don’t have the chance to go home and get clothes to change in to. The gum will help keep you warm.” He must have seen the expression on my face change pretty dramatically. “It’s true. Chomping on gum while you’re cold will actually trick your brain into thinking it’s warmer. Take one.”
Shrugging, I grabbed a stick and put it in my mouth. It was seasonally minty and I reached down to grabbed the bag with the gift we had fought so hard to get. The crocheting could stay in the nice dry car, but that toy was coming with us.
“So what’s with the socks and stuff?” I asked as he stuffed them down in his coat pocket and zipped the pocket closed.
“We both have snow boots on,” he said, “but snow is going to come down into the boots. When we get somewhere warm, we need to change into the new socks to keep ourselves warmer. Same with the shirts, though we might not need them as badly as the socks.”
“Smart,” I said. “There is nothing in the world I hate more than cold, wet socks.”
“Seconded,” he said. “All right, are you ready?”
I glanced behind him, out the driver’s door at the landscape I could see. It was cold and dark, and the snow was piled high on the ground. It was going to be difficult to walk through, much less try to walk for a couple of miles if needed. I wasn’t sure where the next exit was. All I knew was that if I was going to make it, I was going to make it because I was standing side by side with Lawson. If he was there with me, I felt like I could do it.
“Ready,” I said.
“Here we go,” he said. “Come out my side, behind me.”
He opened the door, and a rush of cold air almost made me want to give up before I even started. It was the biting kind of cold air, the kind that got down into your lungs. The minty gum probably didn’t help, and I shuddered. Lawson was out of the car and I had to move, though, so I scooted out, trying to keep the blankets wrapped around me from falling down into the snow.
“Adventure,” I muttered as my feet sank into the snow. Thank goodness I had worn the ones with the fur lining. So far my feet hadn’t gotten cold, and hopefully would stay that way for a little while. The rest of my wasn’t as lucky, despite how warmly I had dressed.
Lawson started heading around the car, going in the direction we had been driving. I caught up to him and looked behind us. The place where we pulled off the road was invisible already, having been covered by new snow. Pretty soon the whole car would be buried in it.
“How far back was the last exit before here?” I asked.
“A couple of miles,” he said. “That’s why I was going this way toward Gayton. I’m pretty sure it’s only about a mile or two away.”
“Only,” I said mostly to myself, but it got a laugh from him.
“I know, I don’t want to be doing it either,” he said. “But just think of how nice it’s going to be to have a nice warm cup of cocoa and sit by the fire once we get back.”
“That does sound nice,” I said. “We could just bring blankets down and sleep on the floor and wait for the guests to get up.”
“Don’t tempt me,” he said, laughing. “No, I think I’ll want a mattress under my back after all this.”
“Good point,” I said. “With big, fluffy, warm socks.”
“Yes,” he said. “I might have to borrow some of yours.”
“Gladly,” I said. “Pink or purple?”
“I am secure enough in my manhood to accept either,” he said, grinning, “but there was also a green pair I saw the other day.”
“In the wash,” I said. “Though freshly dried fluffy socks sounds like a dream right now.”
“That it does,” he said.
We tried to keep talking as we trudged on, wanting to distract ourselves from the mission at hand. I felt like we must have gone over a mile, but there was no sign in sight. Finally, I decided to just keep my head down and focus on the path I was making in the snow rather than looking for the exit. It would come when it came.
Lawson was in the middle of saying something about a recipe he had seen on a baking show recently when he stopped cold and I looked up to him. He was smiling hard.
“There it is,” he said, pointing. “Gayton Road exit!”
Laughing, we both took off, the exhaustion in our bones fading a little as we ran toward the sign. When we reached it, we peered down a ways and Lawson whistled under his breath.
“What?” I asked.
“Just noticing what the other sign says. The Sheetz is a half-mile off the ramp. We have a bit more walking to do,” he said.
“Okay, that might be,” I said, trying to keep our spirits up, “but we can do it. It’s not that far. Let’s go.”
“Holly White, queen of positivity,” he chuckled.
“Hey, that’s your fault,” I said. “I was content to be a grump. You’re the one who turned me into a cheerful Christmas person.”
“Guilty,” he said. “All right, let’s go.”
That last half mile was a doozy. We could see the Sheetz in the distance almost immediately, but it felt like it took forever to get there. By the time we did, my legs were sore and my lungs hurt from breathing in so much cold air. And just like Lawson thought, my socks were wet. Not a lot, but enough. The effect was making me even colder.
We finally got to the door and opened it up. A blast of warm air hit us and we stood in the doorway, our eyes closed as we let the air hit us for a moment. When the hot air stopped blowing, we opened our eyes to see a very confused and concerned clerk behind the counter.
“Can I help you?” he asked meekly.
“Our car broke down,” Lawson said. “We need a ride home.”
“Oh, that’s terrible,” he said. “Unfortunately, I’m the only person working here tonight. I can’t close the place down and leave.”
Lawson hung his head and nodded.
“I understand. Do you mind if we hang out here and warm up, maybe ask anyone that comes by if we can get a ride?”
“That’s fine,” he said. “Are you hungry? We have some hot French fries. My treat.”
“Those do sound good,” I said.
“Of course. Merry Christmas,” the clerk said, beaming.
He made a basket of the fries and we sat down in one of the booths by the windows. I made the dash to the bathroom first, changing socks and coming back out feeling a good bit better. Lawson was next, and when he came out he joined me to eat fries and chat with the clerk.
Only a few minutes into our impromptu midnight snack, a red truck pulled in to the station. It had a large snowplow on the front of it. Lawson jumped to his feet and I hopped up to follow him. A little old man who looked rather familiar was going to the pump, and when he saw Lawson he smiled a bright, cheery smile that was completely disarming. His long white beard rose with his cheeks, which were red and merry.
“Hello,” he said as we approached. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” Lawson said. “I hate to bother you, but you aren’t by chance heading toward Snowflake Hollow, are you?”
“I am actually,” he said. “I was taking my plow down 18 to clear a bit of road and head over to Roanoke after.”
I recognized Roanoke as the town a dozen or so miles south of where we were, and my eyes lit up. I looked at Lawson, who looked just as excited as I was.
“Our car broke down on 18,” I said. “We actually walked here from where our car is parked. It won’t start and a tow truck is on the way to get it, but it could be a while. We really don’t want to miss Christmas at home. Do you think you could drive us to Snowflake Hollow?”
He didn’t even flinch.
“Of course I can,” he said. “My name’s Nick. What’s yours?”
“Oh thank you, Nick.” Lawson said, and I wondered if he made the same connection I did. “My name is Lawson Lane, and this is Holly White.”
“Nice to meet you two,” he said. “Hop on in the truck. I’ll get you there in no time at all.”
“Thank you so much,” I said. “I could just hug you.”
“Well, by all means,” he laughed, and held out his arms. I took him up on it and squeezed him tight. He smelled like candy canes.
We went back inside to say goodnight to the clerk and thank him for his hospitality, and while we were there Lawson paid for Nick’s gas. When we went out again, Nick thanked him for that and laughed a laugh that was so booming, so cheerful, that I felt tears form in the corners of my eyes. We were experiencing a real, live Christmas miracle.
The drive back was quicker than I expected it to be, and Nick played a variety of Christmas songs on the way down. I couldn’t help but sing along as we made our way into Snowflake Hollow and to the bed and breakfast. When he dropped us off, he waved out of the window and we waved back.
“Merry Christmas,” he said as he drove away. “Goodnight!”
“Did he...” Lawson asked. “Was he...”
“Come on,” I said grinning. “I have some fluffy socks with your name on them in there.”
