Wrapped Around My Heart

by Kelly Collins

“No, but we’re entering a lousy storm with a substandard car. You should have let me drive. I’m from snow country.”

  “While I appreciate the offer, I need to drive. It keeps my mind busy.” It keeps my mind off of wanting to kiss you, I wanted to add but didn’t.

  “Fine, but the insurance was necessary. Both of us drank hours ago, and we’re tired. We’re not drunk anymore, but if your reflexes are like mine, they are bit slower than usual. I thought we’d be better safe and not sorry.” She wrapped her jacket around her shoulders and shivered.

  “You cold?” I reached for the controls to switch the heat from defroster to the dash.

  “Leave it on defrost. I’m fine.”

  We sat in silence for a few minutes before Jess asked, “When was the last time you saw your father?”

  That was an easy one. “Ten years ago at my mother’s funeral.”

  “Oh.” She turned toward the fogged-up window and slid her hand from under the jacket long enough to wipe it down. “I’m sorry, Mark.”

  “Oh, don’t be. I didn’t know her. She had worked for my dad, and when she gave birth to me, she left as soon as the wet nurse showed up.”

  Her hand came to rest on my arm. “But you went to her funeral?”

  “I thought it only right since she was my mother. What about you? When was the last time you saw your parents?”

  “Last year at Christmas. We all meet up in Colorado to catch up every year.”

  “So that’s why the holidays are so important to you?” I reached up to feel the air coming out of the defroster; it was as cold as the air outside. No wonder it wasn’t doing a great job clearing the glass.

  “Yes, I guess. I like the tradition, but I love Christmas. I love the decorations and the music.” She reached down and turned on the radio. Some song called Santa Baby filled the car. “I love eggnog and wrapping paper and candy canes and ornaments. I love that it’s a time to reflect on the past and plan for the future. It’s a time to enjoy the ones you love and tolerate the ones you can barely stand.”

  “Like your sister?”

  “Exactly.” She fiddled with the defroster button, and the window cleared. “It was on the blue.”

  “Details. That’s why I need you, Jess. You’re the best at the details.”

  “I do what I can. Now tell me why you don’t like the holidays.”

  I shrugged. I couldn’t pinpoint anything exactly. “Maybe it’s because we never celebrated Christmas as such. We were usually on the road when I was a kid. There was always some contract to negotiate. I’ve only had a Christmas tree once in my life, and that was because a girl I was seeing in college set one up in my dorm room as a surprise.”

  “Was it a nice surprise?”

  “Sure, but I enjoyed her little elf costume more than the tree.”

  “You’re a man. It’s to be expected.” She fidgeted in her seat. “Do you have a girlfriend now? Someone who is wishing you were going to be home for Christmas?”

  Was that wistfulness I caught in her voice? “No, I’m not seeing anyone. I’m pretty much married to my work.”

  “So it would seem the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

  Wounded by her words, I turned my head toward her for just a second, but it was the exact second I hit a patch of black ice.

  The car slid across the lanes, and no matter which way I turned the steering wheel, it wasn’t right. We spun in a circle twice, then slid into a bank of snow piled high on the shoulder of the highway. The car died, the snow fell around us, and everything went silent.

  Chapter 6

  Jess

  “Are you okay?” Mark’s hands were all over my body, checking for injuries.

  I rubbed the knot forming on my forehead from the knock against the glass. “Yes, I’m fine. You?” I turned in my seat to look at him. He seemed fine except for the loss of color in his face. “Are you okay, Mark?”

  He rubbed his face with his palm. “Fine. I’m fine. Just shocked, is all. I wasn’t expecting that.”

  I started to laugh. I wasn’t sure if it was shock or what, but I laughed and laughed until my stomach hurt. “I bet you’re glad I forced that full-coverage insurance on you now, aren’t you?”

  He stared at me blankly. It took a minute for him to catch up, and then he was laughing too. “Always looking out for me. Maybe you should have driven too.” He stared at my forehead. “You did get hurt. I can see the bump rising on your head.”

  I touched the tender area with my fingers. “I’ve had worse. Remember, I’m a younger sister.”

  He unbuckled his seatbelt. “I hope I never run into your sister. She sounds awful.”

  “You’d probably like her. She has a kind of charm that most men find attractive.”

  “I’m not like most men, Jess.” He shut the engine off and then tried to start it again, but it didn’t turn over. It spit and sputtered, then coughed and died. He pulled his phone from his pocket. “No signal.” Mark took the sleeve of his jacket and wiped at the iciness coating the inside of the window. “Let’s see what we have in store for us.”

  He opened the door and stepped out, but his leather-soled Italian loafers didn’t give much purchase, and he fell to his fine ass.

  “Damn it.” He slipped and slid on the icy ground and finally found a piece of ground where he could get a grip.

  I grabbed the handle of my door and pushed, but it went nowhere. We were safely embedded in a snowbank.

  “Perfect,” I heard him say, which meant our situation was anything but.

  I reached into the glove compartment, took out the map, and then crawled across the seat to exit. I plopped out on the other side. I didn’t fall because I wore appropriate shoes. My Geox boots were both stylish and practical. I closed my jacket up around my neck and shivered as the snow whipped around us.

  No one was on the road. No one would come to our rescue because no one was crazy enough to go out in this storm. I pressed the map onto the drivers-side seat and took a look at where we were. The last mile marker had said we were thirty miles inside the state of Colorado.

  “There’s a gas station up ahead about a mile.” I pointed to the little blue indicator on the map.

  “Get back in the car, Jess, it’s cold out here. I got us into this mess, I’ll get us out.” He pulled his suit jacket tight in front of him.

  “Where’s your coat?”

  “I didn’t bring one. I thought we’d get off the plane and right into a taxi. I’d get the deal signed. I’d put you in a car and myself back on the next flight home.”

  “What am I going to do with you?” I pried open the back door and pulled my suitcase close.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m saving your life.” I opened my suitcase and pulled out three wrapped packages. I tore open the beautiful paper and pulled a sweater free. “This was for my dad, but you need it more.”

  Mark shook his head. “I’ve got stuff in my bag.”

  “Really, like what? Another suit? Two finely pressed shirts? A pair of underwear and a selection of ties?”

  I knew I’d hit the mark when his shoulders slumped. “I can layer what I have.”

  I reached up to touch the collar of his tie. “Custom fit doesn’t leave much room for layering.” I tugged at his suit jacket until he allowed me to remove it. “Put this on and then put your jacket back on if you can.” He couldn’t so he put the jacket back on, then pulled the sweater over his suit.

  Next, I opened the gift for my mom. It was a scarf and hat. Beige cable-knit with heavy fringe. “It will do in a pinch.” I pulled the hat over his red ears and wrapped the scarf around his neck.

  His shaking from the cold slowed. “I’ll replace these as soon as we get to Aspen. There are plenty of shops there.”

  I didn’t want to tell him these were special and couldn’t be replaced. That I’d knitted the hat and scarf myself, and that I’d scoured every store to find the perfect color sweater to match my dad’s brown eyes.
So instead, I said, “Don’t worry. I have more presents in my bag.”

  It was true. I had lots of little trinkets from movies for Ben, to my sister’s stationery, to gift cards and framed pictures for my parents. “Besides, it’s not about the gift, it’s about the experience,” I continued. “You should try an old-fashioned Christmas some day.”

  I closed the back door and walked to the front to get my purse and pull the keys from the ignition. Once I had the keys in my hand, I locked the door and shut it.

  “Where do you think you’re going? I said I’d get us help.”

  I shook my head too hard and winced at the pain it caused. “I’m not staying here. I probably have a concussion, and I’d fall asleep and die before you ever came back.” I meant it as a joke, but the way his face fell told me he took my head injury seriously.

  “Jess, you should really stay here with the car. Someone might come to help.”

  We both looked at the car buried in the embankment and then out toward the deserted highway.

  “No one is coming, Mark. Let’s go.”

  “We shouldn’t leave our things in the car. Someone could steal them,” he said as I pulled him farther from the car.

  Once again I looked at the deserted highway. “Who is going to steal our things?”

  He tucked his hands into his pant pockets and hunched forward into the wind. “I’m sorry about this, Jess.”

  I nudged against him. “It’s never a dull moment with you.”

  It was an arduous mile-long walk to the gas station. By the time we arrived at what turned out to be a sleepy truck stop, both Mark and I were human popsicles.

  He walked straight to the coffee pot and poured himself a jumbo cup. I opted for hot chocolate with an extra dose of whipped topping. Mark paid and asked the clerk where we could find a tow truck.

  There was silence followed by laughter. “Dude, even the tow trucks don’t want to be out in this shit. Have you seen the forecast?”

  “I’ve got money, lots of it. Find me a tow truck driver and I’ll give you a hundred bucks. Find me one in the next fifteen minutes and I’ll give you five hundred.”

  The kid got right on the phone.

  Mark turned toward me and brushed off the melting snow that had accumulated on my hood and shoulders. “I’m really sorry, Jess.” He walked me to where hot dogs were turning on the grill. “It’s not the meal I was thinking we’d have, but it will do for now.” He pressed two dogs in two buns and went from condiment to condiment asking me what I wanted.

  When he had my chili-dog made perfectly, he walked me over to a nearby table before going to the register to pay. When he returned, he had a bag of various candy bars and packages of donuts and a jumbo bag of Doritos—Cool Ranch, the kind I liked best.

  “Tow trucks on its way.”

  I took too big of a bite and felt the chili ooze out the corner of my lip. Before I could respond, Mark swiped his finger across it and stuck it in his mouth. “I was wrong to put sauerkraut on mine.”

  “I’ll share.” I offered my hot dog to him, and he took a bite. From that point forward, we shared the whole meal. Ten minutes later, a grizzled old man with bad teeth and a worse attitude approached.

  “You the one with the money and a car problem?”

  Mark wiped his mouth and hands with a napkin and stood. He towered over the man. Even so, the old curmudgeonly man stood his ground.

  “Yes, we slid off the road about a mile down. We could really use your help.”

  He looked at Mark from his cable-knit cap all the way to his fine leather shoes. “It’ll cost ya.”

  Mark shook his head. “There was no doubt in my mind.”

  “Gather your girl and let’s go.”

  “She’s staying here while we go.”

  “I am not,” I chimed in. “I’m going with you.”

  “Jess, please. I’d feel better if you stayed.”

  I looked around the place for emphasis. At most of the booths were men—alone—staring at me. “I’d feel better if I went.” I gathered our snacks and shoved them back into the plastic sack.

  “You two lovers want to stay and quarrel or do you want to get your car out of the ditch and be on your way?”

  Mark let out a huff. “Let’s go.” He slid the cashier a wad of bills on our way out.

  The old man was two steps ahead of us, but his voice was loud and clear. “Giving in is always better, son. You may win the fight, but with most women, you’ll lose the war.”

  “It’s not like that with us,” Mark replied. He helped me into the heated cab of the tow truck.

  “That’s what you think now.” The old man forced his truck into gear and we were rolling.

  It was a short drive to the car, but when we arrived, there was one big surprise I didn’t expect. The back passenger window was busted out, and all of our things were gone.

  Chapter 7

  Mark

  The bastards took everything but my briefcase, which had somehow gotten lodged under Jess’s seat during the crash.

  Jess stood in a pile of broken glass with a look of disbelief frozen on her face. The gray sky blended in with her ashen skin.

  The tow truck operator hooked a winch to the bumper. A low whine worked its way to a high-pitched squeal as the car was eased out of the snowbank.

  There appeared to be little damage except for the post-accident shattered glass and a long thick scratch that ran the entire length of the passenger side of the car.

  “I’ll replace everything, Jess. I promise.”

  She turned toward me and laughed. “It’s impossible. You can never replace the time and thought it took to decide on those gifts.” She looked so deflated. Her hair hung limply around her shoulders. Her forehead sprouted a bruise where the knot had been, and her once pristine black trousers were now dotted with the salty stains of walking through a mile of slush.

  One thing I knew for certain was that Jess Stone was not your average woman. Average would have cried the moment the car skidded. Average would have broken out into hysteria the minute the car crashed. Average wouldn’t have come on this trip.

  No … Jess wasn’t average, and every day I spent with her made me appreciate her more. It was in that instant that I knew I’d never be able to find another Jess Stone, and I’d do whatever it took to keep her.

  “Should we call the police and file a report?”

  She turned toward me and lifted her chin up to look into my eyes. “No,” she said with determination. “We have to get going.” She looked up to the sky. “It looks like we have a little reprieve from the snow.”

  “Get in your car and see if she’ll start,” the driver said just after he kicked the tailpipe, dislodging a clump of snow. “Usually it’s just an air-exchange thing.”

  I carefully swiped at the bits of broken glass that had fallen on the driver’s seat. Once inside, I gave the key a turn and listened as the car sputtered to life and then died.

  “Give it some gas,” the old man said.

  I pumped the gas pedal twice and turned the key again. It coughed and sputtered, then purred to life. Pulling a few hundred from my wallet, I folded them into the tow truck driver’s hand and helped Jess into the car.

  We made it to the truck stop, knowing that an open window in the middle of a storm would never do. While Jess waited inside the car, hunched in front of the heating vent, I went in to get fleeced by the clerk for another twenty dollars. I picked up tape and plastic and a small plastic snow globe for Jess, hoping she’d see the humor in the gesture.

  Lucky for us, we were between two storm bands, and the next hour was blizzard free.

  “How’s the head?” Each time I glanced over and saw Jess ready to fall asleep, I engaged her in conversation. I was worried sick that she’d fall asleep and I wouldn’t be able to rouse her.

  “It’s fine. Nothing that a good night’s sleep and a few layers of makeup can’t resolve.” Gripped tight in her palm was the snow globe. “I can’t be
lieve you bought me this.” She shook it and watched the white flakes gather on the mountain peak.

  “You seem like a nostalgic girl.”

  “And you want me to remember the time we went to Colorado together and you crashed the car on black ice?”

  I reached over and placed my hand over hers. “I want you to look at this trip and know that it can’t ever get worse than that moment.”

  “It won’t take much effort to make it better. All we’d have to avoid is a crash and a robbery and it would be magical.”

  “I’ll endeavor to make the rest of the trip magical.”

  “I’d like to see what that looks like.”

  “I’m going to show you magical, Jess, so you never have to question it when you see it.” And that was what I set out to do. This wasn’t a white carriage drawn by elegant horses, but the broken window did lend itself to the outdoorsy feel. I kept her awake with senseless chatter and fed her a bag full of carbohydrates.

  We drove the next hour and a half without issue until whipping winds gradually blew the magic away into a whiteout.

  “Pull in over there.” Jess pointed to the red neon sign above the gas station. “It’s the last stop before we go through the pass.”

  While I pumped the gas, she went inside to grab coffee. When she emerged, her complexion was the color of snow.

  “What’s wrong?” I rushed to her side and cupped her face with my hands. “Are you feeling sick or dizzy?”

  She leaned into my hand. “This is getting less magical the farther we get along.” She looked back toward the store. “The pass is closed.”

  I dropped my hand and whipped around to look down the highway. Sure enough, the snow gates were lowering. Red flashing lights illuminated a road closed sign.

  “Damnit.” I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and walked her into the store, where it was at least warmer than it was outside.

  “What are we going to do?”

  If I hadn’t already suspected it, this confirmed that Jess wasn’t feeling her best—because she was never without ideas, this question was totally out of character. Normally she’d say, “This is what we’re going to do.” It was my turn to step up and take charge.