Page 8 of Snow Globe Secrets

We tossed his bags in the back alongside my suitcase before I opened the passenger door for him. He gave me an odd look before stuttering out a “thank you” and climbing in. I saw him reach his hand out and retract it quickly when he realized I was closing the door for him.

I ran to the driver’s side and clambered in, snow melting and dripping down my neck as I did so. I wiggled a little to rub my back against the seat, chasing the drip as it tickled its way down my spine. I could sense my guest eyeing me, so I turned a shy quirk of my lip toward him. He really did have a smile that lit up his whole face, somewhat like his father’s but more grounded, less playful.

This was a future medical doctor, his father had informed me, and not the goofy undergrad I had known so long ago.

“Sorry.” I shrugged. “I can’t stand that feeling. This one tiny, ice-cold drip slithering its way down my back.” I let out a performative shiver, but it was so cold in the SUV that it turned real, and my arms jutted involuntarily.

I pressed a button on my side of the consol, then pointed to an identical one on his side. “Heated seat, if you’d like.” He pulled a glove off with his teeth and pressed the button before extending his hand my way.

“Hi!” he laughed. “Austin Lessand, Martin and Stephanie’s son. It’s nice to finally meet you, and thank you for doing this. Not what you bargained for, huh? A college student”—he looked down and mumbled though he said it clearly enough to be heard—“and his dirty laundry …” He looked back up, his eyes alight, ”... invading your space.”

I tilted my head his way, pulling off my own glove to meet his hand. It was surprisingly warm and sent a shock through me that was much more pleasant than the dripping snow had been. I had to work to keep my reaction off my face as I hissed a fake concerned look instead. “And we won’t even get to ski.”

We were still holding hands and shaking slowly. He’d reacted to my stern look and let out a wonderful laugh when he realized I was joking. His grip tightened ever so slightly as he said, “Another time, maybe.”

I laughed in turn.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Austin, and no bother at all.” I finally released his hand. It was an act that should have been rote but instead felt like the most difficult task I had accomplished in a long time.

“Though, I dare say I’m not prepared for guests. I made a point of emptying my fridge this week in anticipation of being away.” I looked out the window at the rapidly worsening conditions, but I really felt like I had no choice. I had no idea how long we’d be snowed in, we’d have to make one quick stop on the way home.

“I think it’s safe enough for us to stop at the supermarket before heading to the cabin. Oh! And …” Excitedly, I pulled off my other glove and pulled up an app on my phone. “There,” I declared as I hit the enter button. “That’s the heat sorted.” He looked at me quizzically. “Remote control for the thermostat at the cabin. I had everything powered down for the trip. I’ve never gotten to use the remote to turn on the heat before. This is tech I worked on, by the way.” Did I sound too pathetic? Never having left my cabin under circumstances that would require use of that remote and then talking about how I was the geek who helped create the thing in the first place?

He simply nodded in understanding but still looked at me curiously. I turned my head away, afraid I’d been staring too long at his really lovely features, that blond hair all windblown after our run to the SUV, his bright golden-brown eyes that seemed to sparkle and pop, his slim, angular face, with its elegant nose and high cheekbones. Could a man be both handsome and pretty at the same time? My thoughts wandered as I put the car in reverse.

“That’s really cool,” he said, and I could feel him looking at me. It felt intense. He asked a random question next—or at least, I thought it was random. I wasn’t always great with social cues. Maybe he was just making conversation.

“I thought my dad said you were born here?”

“Not here, no. In Kansas.” He chuckled at me. I snuck another look at him, and he looked as cute when he laughed as he sounded doing it.

“But you have an accent? A British accent, I mean. Not whatever a Kansas accent would be.” He tilted his head in the most adorable way, an inquisitive puppy whose attention was all on me. I had found it challenging since talking with Martin to picture his son, my thoughts vacillating between images of a generic toddler and the Martin I’d known in college, but Austin was clearly neither of those things. He was young, for sure, but he was an adult who was comfortable in his skin and so much a mix of his parents that I could only see him as his own person though his coloring and features favored his mother. He was anything but a photocopy of his father. He was still Martin’s son, though, so I wondered if it was appropriate for me to think of him as handsome, or pretty, or stunning. Probably not. Had I also thought cute? One glance away from the snowy windshield to his face answered that question for me. He was adorably cute.

“Ah, yes. I’ve been told by more than one person since I’ve been back in the States that they can hear an accent. I can’t, at all, and I can assure you no one in London ever mistook me for a local!”

I adjusted my glasses, then began to drive, putting my arm on Austin’s seat to turn around before I reversed the vehicle. My hand brushed his shoulder, and I cleared my throat before mumbling an “excuse me.” Austin focused on his phone as if nothing had happened.

“The grocery store is just up ahead.” I informed him and he nodded without looking up.

From the corner of my eye as I drove, I could see Austin flash his cell phone toward me for a second before pulling it back to his face. “This looks really bad. We should probably plan for a few days, just to be safe.”

We were silent for the quick ride to the market, so I racked my brain for something to say. It seemed odd to talk about his parents, and I certainly wasn’t one to talk about myself. I settled on asking Austin how he liked Hampstead University, and he was talking about his recent final exams when we fought the wind and snow to enter the building.

It was strange to be in the market with someone else. Even in the early days of my time with David, we were never one of those couples who did household chores together. We always managed to frustrate each other when we did. Perhaps that was one of the many signs that our relationship wasn’t as solid as I pretended it was.

We walked with purpose, Austin and I, racing to beat the pending storm. The few reusable bags that I had in the car served me just fine when I was shopping for myself, but I didn’t think they’d be enough for the two of us if we were really to be trapped for days.

“Seriously,” he repeated, “I think we need to plan for, like, a couple of days. Oh, and what if the power goes out?”

“Well, I have a generator and a wood fireplace. And there’s a grill outside we can cook on. It’s partially covered, so hopefully we can get to it to use.” I nodded, convincing myself as much as I was convincing him. “We’ll be fine.”

“Has the power ever gone out on you in one of these storms before?”

“No, we’ve certainly had a few storms already, haven’t we? But I’ve managed to keep the lights on so far!”

“Yeah, we haven’t had a storm as bad as this in a while. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it snows all the time, but this thing’s a monster.”

“I swear, it snows here at least once a week!” I agreed.