by Olivia Noble
I clear my throat to try to get the sex out of my voice. “Hey, Mom?”
“Hey, baby,” she says, and her voice sounds slightly frantic. Or like she’s been crying.
“What’s wrong?” I ask with concern.
“It’s your dad. He wandered out into the snow again last night… but this time, he was barefoot.”
“Oh no, Mom,” I say, reaching up and running a hand through my hair. “Barefoot, really? Is he okay? Did he get frostbite?”
“He’s fine, sweetie. But he just… I don’t know. I caught him this time, but I can’t keep an eye on him 24/7. I really need one of you kids to come back here and help me out. But I know you’re snowed in, and I can’t ask either of your sisters… I know you guys all planned to come home for Christmas, but I worry that we won’t last that long without some help.”
“I’ll find a way to get home as soon as possible,” I tell her. “Don’t worry, Mom. Literally as soon as the final snowflake has fallen, I will be out there shoveling, and trying to get my car on a road. And as soon as I can get my car on a road, I will get to the nearest airport, and head home to Snowflake Creek.”
“That would be so amazing, sweetie,” my mother says.
“I’ll come with you too,” Adam says. “I’ll do anything I can to help out.”
I turn back around to look at Adam with surprise. “Do you even know where Snowflake Creek is?”
“No, but I don’t care,” he responds. “You’re going there, and I want to be there too. You saved my life, the least I can do is help you through whatever’s going on.”
A smile warms my face at how kind this offer is.
“Who is that?” my mother asks.
“That’s Adam,” I explain.
“The nice young man who crashed his plane?” she asks.
“Yes, Mom.”
“Are you two shacking up yet?” she asks teasingly.
“Not yet,” I say, with a blush tinting my cheeks. Literally if she had called a minute later, I’m sure there would be a very different answer to that question.
“But there’s a possibility! That’s wonderful news, dear. How long can you stay for?” she asks. “Will you be returning to Alaska in early January?”
“No,” I say with determination on my face. “No. I’m going to pack up all my stuff and bring it with me. I’m going to come home to Minnesota to stay.”
“Oh my goodness, Evie. You don’t know how happy that makes me,” she says, and I can tell she is close to tears. “Text me the details of your flight as soon as you know.”
“I will,” I promise her. “I love you, Mom. And send my love to Dad.”
“We can’t wait to have you home, baby!”
When I hang up, I sigh. Adam hasn’t pulled his pants back on yet, so I just enjoy the view for a moment. But then I notice the various colors his leg has turned. “Holy shit, that looks painful,” I say, pointing.
He grimaces, touching it. “I’ve had worse. College football can be pretty rough. So you’re from Minnesota?”
“Yes. Do you still want to come with me? We would have to get you those x-rays and some medical attention for your injuries first.” I pause. “I totally understand if you didn’t mean it, and you were just trying to be cool and chivalrous.”
“You can’t just say things if you want to be chivalrous,” Adam says, tugging his boxers and pants back on. “You need to actually follow through. But yes, I want to be your knight in shining armor, the same way you came to my rescue.”
“Are you just saying that in hopes of finishing what we started earlier?” I accuse him.
He grins. “Partially. But I also just like to do helpful things. That’s why I snuck out of bed in the middle of the night to fix the generator.”
“You did?” I ask. Then realizing that I am not freezing and my phone is fully charged, I smile brightly. “You did! That’s amazing. I didn’t even notice.”
“I aim to please,” he says, leaning on his arm languidly.
“Do you want some more manly, chivalrous duties?” I ask him. “If your leg can handle it?”
“Let me guess,” he responds. “You want me to help you pack?”
“Precisely!” I respond. “And to help me start shoveling out.”
“As you wish, my good lady,” Adam says with a twinkle in his eye. “I just have one question—when you say you’re packing everything, do you mean everything? You’re leaving the furniture behind, right?”
“Yeah—the only thing I might consider mailing ahead is my armchair.”
“By Santa’s whiskers, no. That puke-green monstrosity?”
“Hey!” I say defensively. “I love that armchair. I wrote my first book sitting in that chair, on my laptop.”
“Maybe that’s why your neck is so messed up, Eve, it’s a massively uncomfortable chair.”
I make a face. “Fine, I guess you’re right. The shipping costs would be too high, anyway.”
“I promise to buy you a new chair in Minnesota, which is much prettier and more comfortable,” Adam says.
“I will accept that promise,” I tell him with a nod.
The one thing about Alaska that I love is how fresh the air is. Once you’re all bundled up, and outdoors enjoying the hour or two of mild sunlight there is, it just feels really good to breathe. The air is so cold and pure and rejuvenating.
But there is so much snow to shovel in order to get the car out, that two hours doesn’t seem like nearly enough time. And even if it were, the snowplow hasn’t come through the main roads yet, and it will still be dangerous and difficult to drive.
We have tried to entertain ourselves with playing some music on my cell phone, and random jokes about Adam and Eve. It has definitely made the time pass faster. We are almost finished shoveling out my driveway, and have almost reached the main road, when Adam collapses.
“Adam!” I call out, rushing over to him. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” he says, wincing as he clutches his injured leg. “It’s just a tiny bit painful.”
“A tiny bit? Your leg crumpled under you like it was made of marshmallows.”
Adam laughs softly. “At least the snow was a soft landing. Here, help me up and we’ll keep shoveling.”
“We need to stop so you can rest,” I tell him gently, putting an arm around his shoulders.
“But we’re almost done,” he protests as I help him stand.
“We can’t keep going if your leg is giving out, Adam.”
“But the sooner we finish, the sooner I can get to a doctor,” he points out.
“It’s still snowing,” I say. “Not as heavy as before, but the roads aren’t safe yet. I looked it up, and they won’t clear it for up to 12 hours after the storm finishes. There’s no use in getting on the road if we crash again on the way to the doctor.”
Adam sighs with defeat. “Okay. Then I guess we’re going to be delayed by a few days, because this storm doesn’t seem to be letting up.”
“Even if we could get to Fairbanks, I think the planes are grounded,” I say as we reach the garage door, and enter the house. “So there’s no use in rushing anywhere just yet.”
“What are you going to do?” he asks me.
“Well, first I’m going to put you to bed,” I tell him. “And we are going to use the RICE protocol. Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation.”
“Isn’t there enough ice around?” he grumbles.
“Don’t be a baby,” I tell him, smacking his butt lightly as he enters the house.
He turns around to look at me in surprise. “Did you just slap my ass?”
“And so what if I did?” I ask him. “Get your fine ass to bed, and get some rest.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answers, with a mock salute. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to call my sister, and ask if she can go home to Minnesota instead,” I tell Adam. “Then I might get some work done on my computer. I’m glad we didn’t pack my office yet.”
“Did you ever hear about the very first computer?” he asks, as he limps toward the bedroom, groaning with pain.
“No, I haven’t.”
“It belonged to Adam and Eve. It was an Apple with limited memory—just one byte, then everything crashed.” He turns back to grin at me.
I can’t resist a smile, but then I roll my eyes. “Ha ha. You seriously need to get some rest, Adam.”
“I will,” he promises. “And as soon as you’re done with your sister, you should join me in bed. I believe we have some unfinished business.”
“You’re too injured for any sort of business,” I tell him.
“My leg is injured, but my other parts are perfectly fine,” he says with a wink. “You should take them for a test drive, and find out.”
Chapter Nine
Sitting in my office, I tap my fingers on a desk for a while. I considered texting my sister, like I usually do, but it seems like there is just too much to explain. So, I press the button to call her.
“Eve?” she responds with surprise.
“Hey, Mary.” I say, trying to put on an authoritative voice, despite the fact that she is the older sister. “There’s a bit of a problem, and I need you to fly home earlier than planned.”
“What’s going on? Are Mom and Dad okay?” she asks.
“Well, Mom is fine,” I answer slowly. “But you know how she confides in me, a little more than you guys, right?”
“Yes,” she responds. “Because you’re the only one who doesn’t freak out and spill her secrets and cause a major panic in the whole family.”
“Well, this time I’m freaking out and spilling her secrets,” I admit. “I just hope you can keep a lid on this and keep Clara from panicking. I know she’s under a lot of stress at the ballet company, and I am worried that if we tell her, she won’t be able to complete the rest of her performances.”
“Eve, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
“Dad is just having some memory issues. He just got confused and wandered out in the snow a few times, in the middle of the night. Barefoot. Mom barely caught him in time.”
There’s a pause on the line and some noises as Mary shuffles around. “Memory issues? Like… Alzheimer’s or dementia?”
“I don’t know, but I need you to go home and find out. Maybe slap a GPS tracker on our father. Just see how things are with them and report back to me.”
“But Clara’s performing in L.A. soon,” she whines. “I already have the tickets. If I leave now, I won’t be there to support her.”
“Clara’s going to be performing for a very long time, but we have to take care of Dad’s health now.”
“Right,” Mary says. “So, what exactly happened?”
“Mom thinks he was going out to fix up the Christmas lights—you know he’s obsessed with improving the display every year. But he didn’t dress properly and he seemed confused. I would go home myself, but I’m just… dealing with a situation at the moment. Kind of a crazy situation. So, I can’t leave Alaska until I’ve sorted that all out.”
“What kind of situation?” Mary demands. “What could be more important than Dad?”
Here it is.
“Well, to be perfectly honest with you,” I say in a lowered voice, knowing fully well that I am about to get teased like crazy. “Santa’s Sleigh crashed in my backyard.”
Mary chuckles. “Really, Eve?”
“Yes. A few nights ago, I just looked out my window, and it was coming down in a blazing glory. I had to put on my boots and coat and run out to the scene of the crash.”
“Of… Santa’s sleigh?” she asks.
“Yes—but I pulled him out of the wreckage and he’s okay. A little injured, but I’m nursing him back to health.”
“You’re nursing… Santa back to health?” she asks.
“Stop joking around. You’re not taking this seriously, Mary.”
“Sorry,” she responds with confusion. “How did the sleigh crash, exactly? Was he under the influence? Did he have too many milk and cookies?”
“Mary! No. He wasn’t drinking—there was a storm.”
“Sorry. Uh. Did any, uh, presents get damaged in the sleigh crash?”
“Oh. I guess I’m not explaining myself properly. So, Santa’s Sleigh is the name of the small bush plane that crashed on my property. I mean, it’s not actually a sleigh.”
I can just imagine her nodding. “Right, because of course Santa would upgrade the technology of his present-delivery service to the twenty-first century. Who uses an actual sleigh anymore? Other than our parents, I guess.”
I smile at the memory of home, and the horse-drawn sleigh rides through our property. There was nothing quite like the acres of decorated Christmas trees that our parents have been working on for years. The light displays have gotten better every year, and it is their pride and joy. I can’t wait to take Adam home and show him the beauty of Snowflake Creek.
Adam. Jeez. Am I really taking him home?
A total stranger.
Did I really just nearly have unprotected sex with him?
We haven’t even… talked about things. Talked about real things.
He really could be married. He could have kids waiting for him at home.
I don’t even know what his job is. I put my head in my hands, growling in frustration at myself. I could really use some advice from my big sister, but Mary just seems intent on poking fun at me.
Sighing deeply, I lean back in my computer chair. “I’m serious, Mary. This guy could be dangerous. I think I could get… murdered.” I nearly said pregnant. I am no longer that concerned about murder. I think.
“Is he cute?” Mary asks me, because that’s the most important question to ask when someone crashes their plane into your backyard in Alaska.
“Very,” I respond instantly, thinking of his naked body in my bed. He’s probably waiting for me in my bed right now. With his beautiful penis. I clear my throat, trying to clear those images from my mind. “Anyway. How are things going with Sebastian? Did he propose yet? Mom says that even when Dad’s memory is failing, he always remembers that you’ve got a great boyfriend. He constantly asks, ‘When is Mary getting married?’ It’s one of the happiest things he looks forward to in life.”
I can’t deny that I’ve been slightly jealous that my sister has her shit together romantically. The rest of us don’t, so we need to live vicariously through her. Although I do have a romantic prospect… or at the very least, a sexual prospect, but… I mean, hopefully he’s more—actually do I hope for more? Am I crazy?
“Things are good,” Mary responds. “Except I was trying to get laid yesterday, and he just made me an eggnog protein shake, instead. It was delicious, but I didn’t want eggnog at that particular moment—I wanted him to nog my eggs, if you know what I mean.”
I make a face, trying to refrain from laughing at her ridiculous phrasing. “Mary… honey, no one ever knows what you mean.”
“So, what’s the name of plane-crash guy?”
I groan, rubbing my forehead. “His name is Adam, and he keeps making these gross Adam and Eve jokes that are so lame, but also so weirdly sexy. You know I hate Adam and Eve jokes—so why do I find his sexy? Maybe I’m losing my mind. I just haven’t been around much testosterone in years, since I moved out here. Like, if I tried to use Tinder, there are so few humans around that I would end up swiping left and right on polar bears. Or maybe black bears. Kodiaks? Grizzlies… I don’t know what kind of bears are around, actually.”
“Well, Eve, if you’re so picky about the type of bear you date, you’re never going to find a good bear,” Mary counsels.
“Ugh,” I respond. Is this the wise sisterly advice I was looking for? “I am just like around 69% sure I’m going to get murdered.” I tell her. “But also around 29% sure that I’m going to get laid, and like 2% sure I’m going to get pregnant.”
“Pregnant?” she responds.
“Hello, I am surrounded by hundreds of m
iles of snow and there isn’t a store around for like three hours. I don’t have any condoms in the house, because I never have any men in the house.”
“Do you think maybe there were some condoms in Santa’s Sleigh?” Mary asks me seriously.
Oh my god. What kind of a question is that? Actually, a very good question. And something I have been wondering, myself. “Even if they were, they would have burned up in the crash. Or frozen since the crash. Do condoms freeze? I guess they could have been both burned and then frozen, and I don’t think those sound like very effective condoms to use, right? So—yeah, if he keeps looking at me like that, I might get pregnant.”
“Yikes. Someone’s going to find out what it means to get her eggs nogged!”
“That’s not funny, Mary.”
“Can I be a good sister and Amazon-Prime you some condoms? Does Amazon even work in Alaska?”
“Of course, it does. This isn’t Antarctica. But sometimes the bears steal packages from your front porch—especially if they think the boxes might contain food. I’ve lost some groceries that way.”
“See, Eve? You shouldn’t have rejected all those good bears on Tinder. I bet some of them even Super-Liked you. Now the bears will keep cockblocking you, and you’ll never be able to get condoms for Christmas.”
“Oh my god,” I say, groaning eve more loudly and rubbing both of my temples. “Well, unfortunately, due to my location, most packages also take over seven days to arrive. That’s the fastest shipping I can expect. It gets worse during snowstorms, of course. Way worse than Minnesota.”
“Damn, girl. When you say you’re escaping society, you actually really escape society.”
I smile weakly. “I try my best. So, how’s the latest audiobook coming along?” Whenever I need to record one of my books in audio, I turn to my sister. I would rather hire her than a stranger—but nepotism aside, she is actually a really great voice actress. And a great actress in general. It sucks that she doesn’t get more work, and hasn’t really made it in L.A..
“I am in the recording studio right now,” Mary says, “finishing it up. Should I try to get it done before heading home? I think the soonest flight I can get is this evening. But it could take me three or four days to finish this, especially with edits…”
