Page 44 of Snow Globe Secrets

“Well, in my time,” Randall scoffed in an old-timey voice, and I was pleased that he was joking as opposed to freaking out about our age difference. “We bought books, actual books. Real, physical, expensive books. Your dad and I were doing that together a day before classes started, and I saw this shirt. I’d never seen anything with wording down the sleeve like this. I’ve seen it many times since.” He pointed at the letters emblazoning my sleeve as if to prove his point. “But back then, it was new and exciting, and I really liked it. I had pulled this shirt out in my size and was admiring it, and your dad found one too. So we bought them. After I introduced your parents to each other, I ran into your mom on campus, and we were both wearing the same shirt. At first, I figured she was wearing your dad’s. When she saw that I was wearing the same one, she called us twins, then she filled me in that she had admired it so much on your dad that he’d gone out and bought her one as well. I think I knew my best friend was in love with her that day.”

I had stood still and listened while Randall took his walk down memory lane. “I shouldn’t have put this on,” he muttered, looking at me.

“No, Randall, you absolutely should have.” I came and stood between his legs, rubbing my hands up and down his arms. The material on the T-shirt was soft and giving, though the lettering was worn.

I held his biceps firm. “You had a thing for my dad. You went to school with my parents. Hell, you even introduced my mom and dad to each other. Those are just the facts.” The next thing I said hit me just then, and it was a little overwhelming, so I sat next to him and took his hand in mine before I said it.

“If it weren’t for you, there’d be no me.”

Chapter Sixteen

Randall

He’d gone and said it all out loud. Our time together may have felt like everything I ever wanted, but there was a world beyond my snow globe mountain, a world that included his parents. I couldn’t tell if he’d noticed the change in my expression until he moved in front of me.

“Randall,” he chastised before bending to his knees, his hands firm on my upper arms. “It’s okay, Randall. Please, just let us have tonight. Tomorrow, we have to pack up and head home, but tonight I just want it to be you and me, snuggling together. Please let the outside world stay out there for one more day.”

“But …” He put a finger to my lips and shook his head no, stopping me from posing an argument.

“Nuh-uh,” he insisted instead. “We have hours in the car tomorrow to talk about the past and the future and how crazy this is and what we think is happening or could happen between us. For tonight, please, can we just climb in this bed and snuggle and fall asleep in each other’s arms?”

I held in a sigh and smiled at him. I loved how my smile lit up his face as well. “That sounds perfect,” I said.

And of course, he responded by teasing, “Parfect.” I pecked his lips through both of our smiles and stood up. He followed me downstairs, and we raided the refrigerator quickly, snacking on deli meat and pretzels while leaning on the kitchen island and chatting about our favorite foods.

We moved to the couch with another bowl of popcorn when we were done. Only that night, Austin positioned himself in the corner of the couch with one leg resting on it, his arms open wide in welcome. I nestled myself between his legs like I belonged there, draping the blanket over us and dragging the bowl of popcorn onto my lap. At Austin’s insistence, we watched a truly insane movie where a snowman came to life and lived happily ever after with the widowed owner of the small town’s main-street diner. The film may have been ridiculous, but we both managed to stay awake to witness the happy ending.

Afterward, Austin took the bowl to the sink and washed it while I folded the blanket. Then he silently followed me back up to my room. I rounded the bed to the side I usually entered from but stopped to face him and waved my hand over the bed.

“Do you have a preference?” Austin gave the question some thought, staring at the bed.

“Never shared a bed before, but I think this should be my side.” He generously chose the side I hadn’t walked to.

“Okay,” I agreed.

He flipped the covers back with a flick so that my side would turn over as well, and we climbed in. In some ways, crawling into bed with someone brought back memories of my years being part of a couple, but part of me also felt giddy, knowing that this wasn’t the rote routine of the past; this was something new and fresh and exciting.

I sighed as I stretched out and reached up to shut off the light. Austin slid over to snuggle into my side. “Parfect,” he said, laying his head on my chest.

“You know I really can’t hear it, but I suppose there are a few words I’ve adopted over the years.”

He propped his head on my chest and looked at me. “Yeah? What’s your favorite?”

I didn’t hesitate before answering.

“Chuffed—it means pleased. I had to guess from context when I heard it for the first time. I don’t know, chuffed. It sounded to me like it could mean something negative, but it doesn’t.”

“Well, I’m chuffed to have met you, Randall.”

“And I’m dead chuffed to have met you too, Austin.”

He rested his head back on my chest, and I wrapped my arm around him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Tell me about that time, when you first got to England,” he insisted, and I just started talking about those early days but also about my marriage and divorce, my work and friends. We spent time laughing and joking as we listed other “English” words.

But I wasn’t the only one to share. Austin told me about growing up in New Jersey, his family moving full-time to a beach town when he was ten, his mother sometimes working remotely and sometimes spending days away from home when she was needed in New York.

“They never wanted the city life for me. Plus, you know my dad,” he said casually, like it wasn’t a big deal. “He’s so low-key, he really adores the beach life. He has the bar, which he loves. It’s right on the beach, and our house is walking distance from it.