And once he turned his attention back to Claudia for more hushed conversation, Nina vowed to stop trying.
When Nina put her coat back on, William helped her into it, which was very gentlemanly of him. After grabbing her purse, she zipped up her boots and hefted one of two overloaded paper bags, while he took the other.
“Thank you so much, Mrs. Ko,” she said sincerely. “This is amazing.”
The Ko family might not celebrate Christmas as Nina’s own parents did—with a big tree and lots of reindeer figurines everywhere—but, as Claudia had informed Nina, her parentsexpected all their kids with time off for the holidays to come home. Accordingly, Mr. and Mrs. Ko had cooked a feast, and their dining room table should’ve been groaning under the weight of all those dishes.
Claudia had told her mom that Nina and William couldn’t stay for dinner, and Mrs. Ko’s scowl had nearly bludgeoned them with disapproval. But considering the imminent snowstorm, even she couldn’t argue the wisdom of getting back on the road as soon as possible, so Nina and William would hopefully reach their hotel just outside DC before conditions deteriorated too much.
Still, while they’d taken turns visiting the powder room, she’d packed them an absurdly large pile of resealable containers full of home-cooked food: scallion pork belly, stir-fried eggs and tomatoes, green beans and garlic, soup, and dumplings. Also mac and cheese—“Because our daughter still eats like an eight-year-old,” Mr. Ko had told them.
“When Claudia said you didn’t have any food on board that ... monstrosity, I couldn’t believe it.” Mrs. Ko shook her head. “No kitchen. No bathroom. No beds. Sending you off with a few leftovers is the least I can do. Are you sure you can’t stay here overnight? It’s beginning to snow already.”
It was. The first flakes were drifting down from the dark sky.
But they couldn’t stay—Ruth’s ruthless order—so they said their goodbyes and got back on the road. After stopping by the nearest gas station to top off their tank and buy drinks, they took the exit for I-64 West and headed toward Richmond, where they’d catch I-95 North.
William sat by her side for the first time in two days, but neither of them said much. Nina, because she needed to concentrate on the road, especially at night during not-great weather. William, because ...
Who knew? Maybe he was missing Claudia. For whatever reason, he was oddly fidgety too. Kept changing the chosen playlist from indie rock to synthpop to Motown and back again, before fiddling with the heat and angling the vents in her direction.
And after about forty minutes on the interstate, in the middle of freaking nowhere, drifting flakes became a swirling, wind-driven deluge of snow. Luckily, she was driving slowly and cautiously, because she didn’t—couldn’t—notice the sea of brake lights waiting for them until it was almost too late to stop. The Mincemobile’s own antilock-brake system earned its keep, and their massive vehicle skidded to a halt with inches to spare between them and the rear bumper of the tiny electric car in front of them.
Momentum threw her against her seat belt, which held her firmly in place. Once it loosened again, she let out a shaky, relieved breath and relaxed her too-tight grip on the steering wheel. As she looked over to check on William, he was doing the same to her.
Slowly, he lowered the arm he’d flung in front of her. Another chivalrous gesture, however unnecessary.
“I can’t believe you got us stopped in time. You’re amazing, Nina.” He was pale, his brown eyes worried as he scanned her up and down one more time. “But your neck ... Are you okay?”
“I’m good.” She wouldn’t make that look, those words, mean more to her than they should. “How about you?”
“I’m fine.” Finally, after blowing out a hard breath, William bowed his dark head to check his phone. “No official traffic alerts from VDOT yet. And I don’t see anything ... Wait. According to this map, there might be an accident up ahead.”
She frowned. “Hopefully nothing too bad.”
In this weather? Getting help might take far, far longer than normal.
“Yeah.” He bit his rosy lower lip, and she had to look away before the urge to jump him then and there became overwhelming. “I guess ... I guess we just wait it out?”
“There’s no exit anywhere nearby. I don’t think we have much of a choice, really.” She squinted at the road ahead but could see almost nothing through the snow. Didn’t hear sirens either. “The good news is that we just had a rest stop, our gas tank is full, and we have extra clothes in our suitcases and plenty of food. No matter what happens, we should be set for a while.”
“Worse comes to worst, we can just run the heat in occasional bursts to save gas.” His smile looked strained. “More good news: right now, the conditions are so bad, no one’s going to be leaving their vehicle and knocking on our door for pies and phyllo fingers we don’t actually have. They might not even see us.”
Thatwasgood news. During their last bad traffic jam, outside Rockville, there’d been a near riot at the news of the Mincemobile’s mince-less contents.
She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. “Maybe this will just be a quick holdup.”
But it wasn’t. An hour later, they hadn’t moved an inch. And since they hadn’t found any useful updates and didn’t hear or see official help on its way, they shut off the engine, unbuckled their “mincemeat belts,” donned their branded fleece jackets, and began to eat their now-lukewarm dinner. Not all of it, though. Partly because their stomachs would burst if they tried to fit that much food inside, and partly because they needed to ration their supplies. Just in case.
“At least we don’t need to worry about refrigerating the leftovers,” she said through a mouthful of delicious green beans.
When he laughed, the husky sound vibrated through her like she was the world’s thirstiest tuning fork, and oh, this was an utter freakingdisaster. If traffic didn’t begin moving again soon, how was she going to handle so much unexpected intimacy?
Okay. Okay. After dinner, they’d switch places, and she’d plead exhaustion and simply pretend to sleep while he watched for clearing traffic ahead of them. Because she wouldn’t betray her friend, and she refused to humiliate herself or make him uncomfortable by letting her reaction to his nearness become obvious.
“Lack of chill is not our current issue.” His expression changed in a way she couldn’t read. “Except for ...”
Wait. Had he somehow sensed her utter lack of chill when it came to him? “Except for ... what?”
