Chapter Seven

Conrad

Packing ended up being a little more of a pain than I’d thought it would be. We were able to get everything into the cooler easily enough, but I had taken out more of the other items than I remembered.

Bert insisted on helping, and I let him. He didn’t seem to be doing it out of frustration—it was more like it genuinely made him happy and, in turn, that made me happy. Or maybe I was seeing things that weren’t there. But I couldn’t help it. There was just something about Bert.

Being around him stirred up a side of me I hadn’t experienced in a while and with that came a huge side helping of guilt, which was stupid. Mark had been gone for a long time, and it wasn’t like I was dating Bert or even wanting to. I was just allowing him to do some of the things that Mark once did.

Feelings were weird like that. They logically made no sense, and yet there they were, doing their thing. My brain knew there was absolutely nothing to feel guilty about. The rest of me needed to catch up.

We had everything stacked up at the door when I saw how bad the weather was getting. It was now a full-fledged snowstorm. A blizzard even. Had we been in the cabin all toasty and warm, I’d have loved it. The scene unfolding out the window was the stuff paintings were inspired by.

Except, there was nothing warm and cozy about this cabin, the temperature dropping rapidly. We needed to go through the bad weather, carrying a ton of our belongings. Not to mention, my duct-taped boots.

“I don’t know if my car will make it out of its spot.” The snow wasn’t too deep to walk in from what I could tell, but it was definitely deeper than my old clunker could handle. If I managed to get it a foot, I’d have been surprised. “Maybe we can just carry it there.” It couldn’t have been too far, since Bert walked here, right?

“I’ll do it.” Bert wasn’t asking.

“No, that’s not right. We’ll help.”

“I’m strong.” Natalie flexed her arm muscles in an attempt to show how strong she was.

It was adorable.

How were things going from bad to worse and yet, at the same time, feeling like they were moving up?

“Listen, Conrad,” he suggested. “Why don’t you carry the small things, and I’ll get the large on the first trip? Then you can see just what you’re getting into and decide from there.” Bert bent down and picked up the cooler as if it weighed less than an ounce. It didn’t.

“I have my backpack.” Natalie grabbed it and pulled it over her shoulders. “But I’m strong, too. Remember, I can help with the cooler too.”

I hated to burst her bubble. The cooler wasn’t empty anymore, like when she’d brought it out of the garage to me. She’d felt like a superhero carrying it by herself, but now, even I would struggle.

“I’m sure you can, sweet girl,” Bert said, “but I’m going to take the cooler. Your dad will carry the bag of groceries, and you’ll bring your backpack. Then we’ll go from there.”

We trudged over to his place. It wasn’t far, and, on a summer day, it wouldn’t have been a big deal. But in the snow, it was a hike and a half. His driveway went down the other way. My guess was even if I had gotten my car to the fork in the road, I wouldn’t have been able to maneuver it back up to his place. Walking was definitely the better option.

The duct tape was keeping the sole of my boot on, but snow was getting inside. My foot went from cold to painful to numb. The numb worried me.

We got inside and put everything down. Sure enough, it was the same setup as the last house, but it felt very different—like it had its own personality. That made sense; this wasn’t his brother’s house. It was Bert’s.

I took off my boot to remove my wet sock, hoping it would make me more comfortable. I had half a mind to wrap my foot in plastic wrap so it wouldn’t be wet next trip. It would still be cold, but there wasn’t anything I could do about that.

Bert released a full-on growl. It wasn’t scary but told me he meant business. “I’m getting the rest.”

“No, I can help. I just needed to take this sock off. It’s soaking wet, and this—”

“No. Stay here. I’ll get the rest.” Off he went.

“He’s kind of bossy, Daddy.” Natalie took her backpack off. “I think he needs to dance with the fairies.”

“He’s just trying to be helpful, sweet girl. Now, let’s go put everything in the fridge.”

“You can be helpful and dance with the fairies.”

We managed to fit everything in the fridge, despite it already being stocked with food. By the time we were done, Bert was back with the suitcases. One last trip, and everything was here.

He kicked the snow off his boots and left them by the door.

“Here’s the spare bedroom.” He opened the door. “I don’t have a lot of company, but it’s comfortable.”

“Thanks.”

“I was just about to make dinner. Will you join me?” It was a question, which was refreshing. He was no longer in bossy mode.

“We brought food.” I didn’t want him to think he had to treat us like houseguests. We weren’t company. We were the people who were stuck here, and the two were not the same.

“I’m aware. It’s nothing fancy—just pasta with homemade sauce from my pantry and bread.”

“I love spaghetti.” Natalie twirled.

“I thought so.” Bert smiled. “Get settled in while I finish it up. It’s nothing difficult, just boiling water.”

I set up the bed for Natalie. She was exhausted, and I doubted she’d make it through dinner. The room was comfy and warm. For sure better than the haunted motel.

We went back out, and I helped set the small table. When Bert said the sauce was homemade, he meant it—it was jarred up and smelled delicious. We talked about our trip, and Natalie, being Natalie, overshared a bit.

“We were supposed to go to the beach,” she explained. “We were gonna go to the beach with Father, but…”

I wanted to change the subject but refused to ever tell her not to talk about her father, even if that was going to make dinner a bit awkward.

She watched Bert’s face as she was talking, and I wasn’t sure what she saw there, but something had her changing her mind about the direction of the conversation. “This is good, too, because I’m going to make a snow castle—maybe two, maybe five—and then the bear will come dance with me.”

She was so focused on that bear.

“I’m down for snow castles.” He handed her a napkin. She probably needed five.

After dinner, she fell asleep before I finished the first chapter of the book I brought. She’d handled a really long day like a boss.

I insisted on washing the dishes, following the you cook, I clean rule I made up on the spot.

“Thanks,” he said. “I’m going to bring in some more firewood.”

I actually liked washing dishes by hand. Was that weird? Probably. But it was rewarding and relaxing to me. I was so lost in them I didn’t even hear Bert coming in.

“I don’t mean to overstep.” Bert leaned back against the counter. “But about what Natalie said about the beach…”

“You caught that, did you?”

He nodded.

“Her father—my husband—was killed right before Christmas, the year she was four. We were supposed to go to the beach that summer and spend time together as a family, but…” I turned off the water and dried my hands, turning to face him. “Being a single dad is difficult, especially financially. Fine, maybe not especially, but including financially, and when the beach trip was on her Christmas list to Santa, I was heartbroken.” I told him about the app and all the bad luck I had with it. “So this swap—it wasn’t supposed to be here. It was supposed to be to the beach. But there were no swaps available, and here we are.”

“Well, this is very much not a beach,” Bert said sweetly. “But I’m sure we can make some Christmas magic happen.”

It didn’t go unnoticed that he said we, and I held on to that far more than I should have as we continued talking about Mark, my life since, a little about his life and brother, and a whole lot about the weather outside.

What I thought would be a small snow shower over the week was turning into a full-on blizzard. If I had to be snowed in somewhere, here felt like the right place to be.