Page 4 of Snow Globe Secrets

“A favor? From me?” Unless he needed me to write computer code or tell him where the best takeaway was in Kensington, I couldn’t possibly imagine how I could do Martin Lessand a favor.

“Yeah. Austin is done with school soon, but with the restaurant and everything, it’s going to be tricky for me to get up there to pick him up.” I could feel my brow furrow as snippets of my last conversation with Martin surfaced. In particular, he had mentioned how not busy he was as the proprietor of a beachfront restaurant in the middle of winter.

“Tricky,” I repeated. I could always tell when my friend was bullshitting me, and it was clear he was doing so as he rambled on.

“Yeah, you know, all the holiday shoppers needing a place to eat. Anyway, I was thinking, if you're not going to Kansas for the holidays, and if you're not traveling back to England … I mean, are you going back to England for Christmas?”

I knew he was asking more than that. He was asking if I’d left anyone behind. Did I have a life, a family like his, with a successful wife and a son in college?

“No, Martin. I’m here now, permanently. Just a quiet holiday …”

He didn’t let me finish. “Great! Perfect! Then you can pick Austin up and come here for Christmas! It will be perfect! Aus needs a ride, and you need to spend the holidays with your old friends!”

“Do I now?” We had gone right into our old pattern. My tone was resigned as I said it, and I knew Martin knew I would do as he’d asked even though, really, using his son as an excuse to get me to visit seemed a bit out of line.

Chapter Three

Austin

I dropped down on my bed and picked up my laptop, set to go back to studying. One more exam to go, scheduled on the last possible day before HU closed down for winter break. Just my luck. Most of my friends had been gone for days at that point, including all but one of my housemates.

I dove into my notes and started a read-through. When my phone pinged, I looked up to see that the sun had gone down while I was engrossed in my review. The text was from an unknown number.

I hope your dad told you to expect me. This is Randall Glenn. Looks like I’m to spend Christmas at yours. Martin said you're done with exams on Wednesday? Should we try to get on the road that day? Forecast calls for snow on Thursday, so probably best to get ahead of it if that’s ok?

Randall Glenn, the lonely friend. The stranger. I recalled my parents talking about him when I was younger. He had been Dad’s best friend and had introduced my parents to each other when he and my mom were assigned to do a project together for a class. His name came up a lot since my parents attributed their relationship to him. And every time they talked about him, they would wonder why Randall hadn’t been in contact after his move overseas.

I think that’s why I remembered them talking about him—because it always started out as a happy, fun memory but ended in forlorn confusion. But time moved on, and “Randall from college” stories waned until I started college myself, which brought my parents right back to their university days. I recalled that the phone call with my dad a few days earlier wasn’t the first time I’d heard about X-Files night.

I responded to the text, remembering my dad saying he would leave the logistics up to Mr. Glenn and me. I created a contact in my phone and returned his message.

The Excuse: Hey, thanks so much for doing this. My last exam is Wednesday morning. There's a bus that can get me to the Mt. Pheasant stop at 3:30 pm. Happy to help with the drive if you don’t mind the late start. Seems silly for you to drive north just to turn around and head south.

Mr. Glenn responded right away.

The Stranger: Sounds good. I’ll be able to get some work in before we head out. That will be perfect.

I spent the next few days buried in textbooks, lecture recordings, and notes, going so far as to shut off notifications on my phone so I wouldn't be interrupted in my studying. I woke up early Wednesday morning with enough time to scoop up my dirty laundry and shove a few clean items in a duffel bag so I’d have something decent to wear for the holiday. I had done some Christmas shopping the weekend before at the university store and remembered at the last minute to take that shopping bag with me as well. I texted my parents, then figured I should check in with my ride.

The Excuse: Off to my final exam. Double-checked the bus schedule and the weather. Hopefully the storm holds off.

The Stranger: I imagine a Hampstead Valley denizen wouldn’t be afraid of a little snow.

Denizen? My parents’ old friend was dropping those fancy words in his text. I made a point of speaking in full sentences and not emojis when I replied.

The Excuse: Ahh. You’d imagine wrong! The reason I need a ride home is because I’ve thus far refused to bring a vehicle up here. My offer to drive depends wholly on the weather holding off.

The Stranger: You do realize that whatever the atmosphere is doing is “the weather”?

The Excuse: See, that’s where you’re mistaken. You’re in Upstate New York now. “The weather”=[snow emoji].

I had failed already, resorting to a math symbol and a snowflake in my response. I had also used the phrase thus far, so bonus points for that. I was surprised when he kept the conversation going.

The Stranger: Not a big fan of the snow, then?

The Excuse: Ironically? Huge fan of the snow. I can’t believe I’m coming to Mt. Pheasant just to hop in a car and head to the beach. Some wicked slopes by you, but you must know that already.

The Stranger: Not a skier myself, but the view is rather nice.