Chapter Sixteen Amelia

SIXTEEN

Excerpt from R.C.’s bullet journal: written in alternating shades of blue, red, and green ink, with smiley and frowny face stickers scattered throughout the page and bright red doodled hearts by every heading

Mission statement: To live each day with courage, compassion, and curiosity. To become a better version of myself each day and inspire others in my path to do the same. To keep self under control in Wisconsin and not let Amelia see how badly I want to kiss her again

Feelings: Confused. A.C. only invited me to Wisconsin because she was put on the spot but sometimes, the way she looks at me makes me wonder whether she likes me for real. I am pathetic and delusional . How could someone like her possibly want someone like me . The idea I might have feelings for her is terrifying

To-do list:

Pilfer South Side blood bank for supplies

Pack: a. Meals; b. Old Fuzzy; c. Monopoly; d. Glockenspiel

Leave note on door to throw Collective off trail if they come looking for me

Amelia

“You are not taking all that crap with you to Wisconsin.”

I looked up from the briefcase I’d been packing with work files to see Sophie standing at the foot of my bed, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. She had the same look on her face she always did whenever I did something disappointing.

Like taking work on a trip that was supposed to be a vacation.

“You’re as bad as Gracie,” I said. Gracie, for her part, was curled up sleeping on my bed. But if she’d been awake, I was sure she’d have been licking her paw in a way that expressed maximum disapproval.

“You’re not supposed to work up there,” Sophie insisted. “Family togetherness, bonding in the wilderness, hooking up with your pretend boyfriend —that’s what this vacation is about.”

I glared at her. “This trip is nothing but a family obligation. It is not a vacation, and not an opportunity to hook up with anybody.”

“But you’ll be there with Reggie ,” she said, voice adopting a bit of a singsong when she said his name. Her eyes danced with mischief. “Are you sure you won’t have better things to do with your time than taxes?”

I ignored her suggestive tone. “There’s never any better thing to do with my time than taxes.”

Sophie snorted. “Oh, stop it. You told me the way he looked at you the other night. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. You’re seriously going to waste that?”

“I never said that.”

“You said that when he saw you, he shut up for the first time since you’d met him.” Sophie smirked. “I bet he had a hard-on before even getting into that Uber.”

“Sophie!” I dropped the file I’d been about to put in my briefcase, scattering papers everywhere. I tried to think of how to get her to stop harping on this but was coming up empty. Especially since Reggie had been unable to keep his eyes off me for a good portion of Gretchen’s engagement party. But thinking about my possibly having given him a hard-on…

No.

That would lead to nothing good.

Certainly not right now, when we were about to spend five hours together in a car, and then an entire weekend at the cabin. I’d assumed my family would rent one big van and go up together, the way we used to when I was younger. But everyone had different obligations this weekend and needed to leave at different times. So it would just be me and Reggie, alone in an enclosed space for hours.

Sophie watched as I continued packing. “I think you’re into him, too.”

I stared at her. “I am absolutely not into him .” I put special emphasis on the last two words, as if the mere concept were beneath me.

“Hmm.”

“What he and I have is just…just…”

Sophie arched an eyebrow. “Just what?”

“It’s just an arrangement ,” I finished, lamely. “It’s purely transactional. It isn’t real.”

“I know. But would it be so bad if it became real?”

“Yes.”

“But why?” Sophie must have sensed I was struggling with this, because all the teasing had left her voice. “He’s interesting, isn’t he? And funny? Also really good-looking?”

I couldn’t even deny what she was saying, because he was all those things. But what she was suggesting was ridiculous. “I can’t make this real, Soph. For one thing, he has no Internet presence at all. That’s weird, right? I have a feeling that if I look too closely, I’ll come across skeletons in his closet I’ll regret discovering.”

Sophie shrugged. “So he has a few red flags. Who doesn’t?”

“I also don’t have time for a relationship.” When Sophie didn’t reply, only stared at me with a smirk on her face, I rolled my eyes. “Please don’t tell me you think I need a boyfriend, too, Soph. I don’t think I could handle it if you did.”

“Not at all.” Sophie sat down next to me on the bed and put a hand on my knee. She gave it a squeeze. “If you want to stay single for the rest of your life, I support you. But I also don’t understand why you’re fighting your attraction to this guy as hard as you are.”

“I’m not attracted to him,” I said. I wasn’t. I mean, sure, he was attractive . And yes, I found myself revisiting funny things he’d said or kind things he’d done at odd moments. Like when I was taking a shower, or riding the El to work, or trying to focus on this damn Wyatt filing.

But none of that meant I was attracted to him. Did it?

Sophie gave me a knowing look. “Just think about it, okay? While you’re up there, if the opportunity presents itself to turn this arrangement into something real, don’t think your way out of what could be either a good thing or, at the very least, a short-term good time.”

A short-term good time.

Was I even capable of something like that?

The sad thing was, I didn’t think so.

I needed to change the subject, and fast. I reached across the bed to where Gracie was still curled up and dozing, oblivious to this conversation, and stroked her fur. “Be a good girl for Auntie Sophie while I’m away, Gracie,” I cooed.

Sophie recognized my lame diversion tactic for what it was. “You’re going to be the end of me,” she said. “Can you at least promise me you’ll try to have fun on this trip?”

That was easy enough. “Yes. I promise.”

“And maybe pack some sexy underwear?”

“ Sophie .” I laughed, to deflect from the fact that I didn’t own any. “Absolutely not.”

Sophie sighed. “Can’t blame me for trying.”

·······

At nine the next morning, Reggie was waiting for me outside the hotel he said he was staying in while his apartment was being renovated with two large duffel bags slung over his shoulders. A not-small part of me had hoped he’d be wearing Old Fuzzy, or some other hideous thing, so that the next few hours alone in a car with this man who could get my heart racing with just a glance would be less distracting.

But as luck would, or wouldn’t, have it, he looked fantastic. It couldn’t have been more than twenty-five degrees outside, but jeans and a long-sleeved green Henley were all that separated him from the elements. And all that separated my eyes from the muscles I knew lay beneath them.

“No coat?” I asked when he climbed into the passenger seat beside me. He smelled good, like leather and mint. I resisted the urge to reach out and touch his shirt to see if it was as soft as it looked, but only just.

“It’s in my bag,” he said, jerking a thumb towards the backseat, where he’d tossed it. “I brought some other key winter wear as well.”

“Such as?”

He held up his hand and began counting off items on his fingers. “Long johns, knee socks, a knit cap with Santa on the front that has reindeer-themed earflaps, and gloves.” He paused. “Oh! And a pink feather boa I found at Goodwill a week ago.”

I stared at him. “A feather boa? That’s key winter wear?”

He shrugged. “Probably not. But it’s fun, and you said there isn’t much to do in Wisconsin, so I thought maybe I would bring the fun with me.”

I laughed. “I did say that, didn’t I.”

He jerked his thumb towards the backseat again. “You did. In that vein, I also packed a one-thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle featuring cats in outer space that we can do if we get bored.”

An image of me and Reggie, sitting around a small coffee table with my nieces as we did a puzzle together flashed unbidden in my mind. It nearly bowled me over with its unexpected sweetness.

“I also brought my glockenspiel.” He looked at me hopefully. “I hope you like music.”

I thought of what I’d taken with me on this trip: a small roller bag with a few changes of clothes, my laptop, and a briefcase full of work. Much less fun than what Reggie was bringing. I sighed; there was nothing to be done for it.

“Go ahead and fasten your seat belt and we’ll be off,” I said.

Reggie stared at me a moment, as though I’d just said something to him in a language he didn’t understand. Then he burst out laughing.

“You’re hilarious,” he said between cackles. Then he added, in an uncannily good impression of me, “ Go ahead and fasten your seat belt! ”

He’d lost me. “What’s so funny about wearing a seat belt?”

He shook his head, still giggling. “For you? Nothing. You should wear one. Car accidents can be deadly. But for me? Everything is funny about it.” He sighed, then reached behind him and drew the seat belt across his torso. “Okay, I am wearing my seat belt now. Shall we be off? Oh, and I hope it’s all right if you do all the driving. I never learned how.”

It was good that Reggie periodically tempered his hotness with downright bizarre behavior. It made it more likely that I’d be able to focus on work on this trip. I chanced another glance at him out of the corner of my eye as I pulled away from the curb; he was examining the holster that attached the seat belt to the car with such intense interest it was like he’d never seen one before.

“I’m fine driving,” I agreed. I wasn’t sure I wanted him driving my car, anyway. “By the way, is there anything specific you’d like to do on this trip?”

I expected him to reply with some variation on the outdoor activities theme, because that was largely what there was to do up there. “Avoid getting stuck in the blizzard that they expect to hit sometime between now and tonight,” he said instead.

I almost choked on my tongue. “ What ?”

He looked at me, incredulous. “Amelia, you’re someone who plans for every eventuality. Are you telling me you haven’t checked the weather forecast?”

I opened and closed my mouth several times, trying to make words form. Ordinarily, before any big trip I would check the weather multiple times.

I hadn’t this time, though. I’d been too distracted.

“No. I mean…yes.” I shook my head and tried again. “Yes, I mean to tell you that, no, I haven’t checked the weather.”

“You should probably do it now,” he said, mildly.

One hand still on the steering wheel, I pulled my phone from my purse. And saw a long string of texts from Dad.

DAD: Looks like a storm coming

DAD: Not too concerned. Looks like it won’t hit until tomorrow

DAD: Be careful on the drive up though just in case. We’ll see you tonight

DAD: Tell your young man I’m bringing the WWI documentary I told him about

I flushed at the reference to my young man but was relieved to hear Dad thought everything would be fine.

“My dad is the most weather-obsessed person I know, and he’s not worried,” I said. “If he looked at the forecast and thought it was safe to drive, I’m sure it’s fine.”

Reggie shrugged. “If that’s what the history professor thinks, that’s good enough for me.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “He’s bringing a World War I documentary along on the trip. He wanted me to let you know.”

“Marvelous,” Reggie said, grinning. “I can’t wait to tell him what a jackoff Franz Ferdinand was.”

·······

It started snowing when we were about thirty minutes away from the cabin. Just flurries, and nothing that interfered with my driving. But Reggie frowned, looking up at the sky through the passenger-side window.

He rummaged around in his bag for his phone. From my peripheral vision, I could see him grimacing when he pulled up the weather app.

“Um. Amelia?” He dragged a hand through his hair. “When did your father say the blizzard was supposed to start?”

He sounded uneasy. My stomach dropped. “Tomorrow.”

“Well, I’ve got good news and bad news,” he said, sounding like all he actually had was bad news. “Which would you like first?”

I gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Can I have the good news first?”

“Certainly.” The snow was coming down a little heavier than it had been just moments earlier. “The good news is we won’t have to wait until tomorrow to build a snowman.”

I gritted my teeth. This was not happening. “When will we be able to build one?”

“If the meteorologists who live inside my phone are to be believed—and I have no reason to think they are untrustworthy—probably in a few hours,” he replied. “By tomorrow we’ll be able to build a snow army .”

DAD: Hey hon

DAD: I just checked the weather forecast and it’s worse than I thought

DAD: I don’t think we’re going to be able to make it up

DAD: Sam and Adam and the kids haven’t left yet either

DAD: I’m encouraging them to stay home

DAD: Mom is on the phone with Aunt Sue and it looks like they’re all staying home too.

I closed my eyes and rested my forehead on the steering wheel, forcing myself to breathe in and out. I counted to ten before replying to Dad’s texts.

AMELIA: Glad you checked the weather.

AMELIA: Yes, you probably should stay home.

AMELIA: Will Gretchen still be coming?

DAD: She and Josh apparently left Chicago an hour ago but are turning around.

This was fine.

Everything was going to be fine .

DAD: I guess that cold front moved down from Canada more quickly than they expected, huh?

I was going to be snowed in at my family’s cabin, alone , with my uncomfortably attractive fake boyfriend.

But it was totally fine.

DAD: You two going to be okay up there all alone?

AMELIA: Yep. Don’t worry about us.

AMELIA: We’re at the cabin now

As I texted my dad, Reggie was walking around the house, surveying the landscaping. The temperature had to have been in the single digits out there but the goofball was walking around without a jacket.

He had to be freezing.

Why didn’t he get Old Fuzzy out of his bag?

DAD: Glad to hear it hon

DAD: Well I’d been looking forward to a nice long weekend with the family

DAD: And I know mom was looking forward to spending more time with Reginald

AMELIA: I know Dad

DAD: We’ll just have to get together once we’re all back in Chicago

AMELIA: Of course

AMELIA: Love you. Say hi to Mom for me.

I put my phone back into my purse and stepped out of the car. My feet sank into the several inches of snow that had fallen in what was probably just the past hour. Ignoring the icy wet that was seeping into my sneakers and soaking my socks, I made my way to where Reggie was exploring the yard with the enthusiasm of a golden retriever puppy.

“This is fantastic,” he said, with wide-eyed wonder. “Who cares for the plants while you’re away? I’ve never seen such sound winterization techniques.”

It was hard for me to see this yard with even a fraction of the appreciation he had for it. When I was young, I was always excited about the exploring I could do here that I couldn’t back in Chicago. But I’d never given much thought to the cabin’s landscaping.

“I’m not sure who takes care of the yard,” I admitted. “My parents handle that. I just come up here once a year.” I paused, trying to work up the courage to let him know what Dad had just texted. “They’re not coming, by the way.”

His eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Your parents aren’t coming?”

I shook my head. “Nope. No one is. The roads are unsafe, apparently. It’ll just be the two of us until the snowplows come.”

Reggie stared at me wide-eyed, the panic that had been gripping me since realizing we’d be here alone hitting him, too. “I see,” he said.

“I’m heading inside,” I said, pointing to my shoes. “My feet are freezing.”

I shouldered my purse and made my way to the front door, deciding I’d come back out again for my suitcase once I had proper boots on. I expected him to follow close behind, but when I got to the door and made to open it, I noticed he was still standing by the snow-covered hydrangea bushes.

He swallowed. “Do I have your permission to come inside?”

I stared at him. “Of course. I haven’t made you feel unwelcome here, have I?” Suddenly, I felt bad. Had my panicking about us being alone here made him feel awkward?

“It’s not that,” he said. “I need explicit permission before entering someone else’s home, remember?” He paused. “Like at your Aunt Sue’s party.”

I’d forgotten all about that. Honestly, his insistence on being explicitly invited into people’s private spaces was weirdly charming. “Oh, right. Well, you’re welcome to come inside.”

“Thank you,” he said, seeming more at ease. “I’ll join you shortly, after I’ve walked around the house a bit more.”

“Of course. Whenever you’re ready.” I couldn’t imagine wanting to spend time outside in this weather. Especially dressed the way he was, in nothing but a long-sleeved shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes. How were his toes not freezing off? “I’ll just go find some hot cocoa in the pantry.”

If there was one constant on these trips, it was the packets of cheap grocery store hot cocoa that no one ever seemed to remember buying but that were somehow always on hand.

I’d need all the strength hot cocoa could give me to face whatever came next.

·······

Whoever my parents had come in to clean the house before this weekend had blessedly turned the thermostat up to seventy-two after leaving. The minute I got inside, I reveled in the relative warmth, sighing as the chill in my bones melted away.

A quick search of the kitchen yielded three boxes of Swiss Miss cocoa packets that looked like they’d been purchased sometime in the past five years, a couple cans of dubious store-brand soup, and a box of bouillon cubes that had expired in 2012. That was all we’d have on hand until one of us made a grocery run.

Assuming, of course, that a grocery run was even possible. The only store within fifteen minutes of the cabin tended to close when the weather was bad. Even if it was open, I had no idea if we’d be able to use my car. Dad kept a snowblower in the garage that would take care of the driveway once it stopped snowing, but the roads would likely be impassable for days.

There was a snowmobile in the garage that was usually gassed up, at least. And if it wasn’t running, there were several pairs of snowshoes that might work as a last resort.

Once Reggie came in, we’d have a strategy session about how to get more food. In the meantime, I needed to let Sophie know she might need to feed Gracie longer than I’d originally planned.

AMELIA: Hey Soph

AMELIA: Reg and I are stuck up in WI because of the blizzard. The rest of the gang didn’t make it out of Chicago before the storm started so it’s just us up here.

AMELIA: Hopefully I’ll still make it back home as scheduled but there’s a chance I may need you to feed Gracie a few extra days

That settled, I made my way down the hallway to the bedroom that had been mine ever since our families built these cabins. It was like walking down decades of childhood memories and family remembrances. Most of our school pictures were at our parents’ house back in Chicago, but these walls were lined with memories we’d made here in Wisconsin. Here was a picture of me, Adam, and Sam, out on my uncle Jim’s fishing boat, each of us gap-toothed and smiling. And there was a picture of Adam’s kids from last summer, little Aiden wearing at least as much chocolate ice cream on his face as there was left in his cone.

I was feeling all nostalgic and warm, despite the strangeness of my present circumstances, by the time I got to my bedroom at the end of the hall—and saw that the two twin beds that had been in my room for decades had been replaced with a beautiful queen-sized bed, piled high with fluffy pillows.

Two thoughts went through my mind simultaneously:

Oh, good. Those beds were uncomfortable as hell and made me feel like I was nine years old.

And: Oh my god, there’s only one bed.

“Seriously, I need the name of your landscaper.” Reggie’s delighted voice bounded down the hallway. I barely heard him over the ringing in my ears and the renewed panic coursing through my bloodstream.

One bed one bed there’s only one bed.

He stopped so abruptly when he got to my bedroom and saw what I was looking at that he bumped into me from behind. I braced myself with one hand against the doorframe to keep from stumbling into the room.

When I looked at him over my shoulder, he was staring at that single queen-sized bed in the center of the room, eyes wide as saucers.

He licked his lips. “There…appears to be only one bed.” His voice was shaking. Or maybe it was just me who was shaking.

I cleared my throat in an attempt to pull myself together. “We have full run of the house,” I said. “Remember? So we…um.” I wondered if my face was as red as it felt. “We don’t have to both sleep in it, or anything.”

He nodded vigorously. “Right.”

“Right,” I repeated. “I’ll just take my bedroom and you—” I’d been about to tell him he could sleep wherever he wanted, given that this place had several bedrooms. But maybe, given my undeniable attraction to him, and how very much not okay it would be if I gave into it, that wasn’t a great idea.

“You can sleep in the kids’ room,” I said. “It has a bunch of toys in it and stuff, but it’s very comfortable.” It was also at the exact opposite end of the house, just in case I woke up in the middle of the night and forgot how terrible an idea it would be to crawl into bed with him.

He blinked at me. “The kids’ room?”

“Yes,” I said. “There are two twin beds in there, so you’ll have two different beds to choose from. I think that’ll be a lot of fun, don’t you?”

I tried to tamp down the wave of… something that came over me at the look of disappointment on his face. I shouldn’t want him to be close to me while we slept. Not if I had even an ounce of sense.

“Okay,” he said. “That’s…fine.”

“Great.” I nodded.

“Good,” he said. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going get my things from the car before it’s covered in a foot of snow.”

He left the room, and I flopped down on my bed. As if on cue, my phone buzzed with a new text.

SOPHIE: You’re snowed in with your fake boyfriend??? ALONE????? Are you KIDDING ME????

I groaned.

If nothing else, this would definitely be a memorable weekend.