by Nina Bocci
Admittedly the thought of being buried under a mountain of snow and living alone next to a lake was a bit jarring, but I was going to hope for the best.
The prospect of a little winter magic was exciting. I just prayed I could deliver.
“Ready?” Nick asked, holding open the door.
“As I’ll ever be.”
Nick held on to me as I descended the stairs. The gesture felt automatic: his chivalrous nature, I supposed. It wasn’t something I could read into. He would have offered up a strong, muscly arm to anyone to navigate the terrain.
Muscly? Jesus, Parker.
We disconnected at the bottom of the stairs where I was firmly planted in a couple of inches of deep snow.
Shit. My feet were soaked in seconds.
Silently, we traversed the snow-covered lawn, my hands now clenched into fists in my cold pockets. The coat definitely had to be supplemented with a thick sweater if I wore it outside again, or I would just have to grab something better like Mancini suggested. Spending time in the hospital with frostbite instead of finding my mojo wasn’t something I wanted to experience.
Nick’s massive silver pickup truck was parked at the bottom of the driveway behind the other cars that were now well covered in sparkling powder. On the front was a plow, and an extra pair of lights mounted on top gave it a spaceship feeling.
“I’ve never seen that before. I didn’t realize it was a real thing,” I said, pointing to the chains that were wrapped around all four of the oversized tires. “Necessary?”
He pointed his finger in the air, and when I followed it to the streetlamp above us, I understood what he meant. Snow swirled around the light. More snow was coming per the alert on my phone. The flakes caught on his long eyelashes, making him look boyish. “These chains are what’s going to get all of those little pearls tucked inside their warm houses tonight.”
I looked at him, confused, and then what he meant dawned on me. “What do you mean? You’re coming back?” I was incredulous when he nodded. “Are you nuts?”
“Well, that’s a common assumption, yes, but in this case, it’s necessary. Henry is meeting me here. He’ll take half and I’ll take the other half.”
“He just left. Why would he come back?”
“Because this is what we do?” he said flatly, like I should have already known.
“Oh, makes perfect sense. Divide and conquer,” I deadpanned.
“Are you worried about me?” he asked, leaning against the side of the truck, arms and legs crossed casually.
I waved him off. “No, of course not. Why would I be worried about you?”
It’s not like you were worried about me when you stopped calling months ago.
“You’ll be safe because of your Game of Thrones tires.”
“That’s a good one,” he said, pushing off of the truck. “Fact is, these seniors can’t drive in this weather, Parker.” I didn’t know if he meant to sound condescending but that’s how I took it.
“I know that! I’m not suggesting that they do.”
“I’m confused.”
I whirled around to face him. “You don’t think I’m confused too?” I realized that I was all over the place. Nick looked stunned, and a bit scared by my outburst.
“Nothing, just nothing,” I said, trying to calm the hysterical sound to my voice. “I’m just tired and antsy to get home.”
“Then why are we arguing?” He shrugged.
“I’m not arguing!”
Nick’s lips curled together as if he was trying not to laugh. “Does your brain want to let your mouth know that?”
I gave him the finger. I thought I had my feelings about Nick compartmentalized. That when I rolled back into town for a visit and I saw him, I could be the bigger person. The well-adjusted adult who was ghosted by a guy she really liked and could handle it magnanimously. This brief interaction made it clear that I was completely out of my depth.
Waving toward the house, I pointed. “Why don’t you take a couple of the ladies with us now? They can fit, right?”
“Don’t want to be alone with me?” As soon as he said it, he looked like he wished that he could pull the words back.
My eyes narrowed, and the clapback was right on my tongue, but I wanted all of this to be over with, not drawn out.
“I’m just thinking they’ll fit here in the backseat, right? Or better yet, I can sit in the back,” I added quickly, thinking that sitting in the front seat next to him was probably a bad idea. “Why make so many trips?” I gave myself a mental high five for finally sounding casual.
He shook his head, taking a step back toward the truck. “Your luggage is already in the truck. I can’t fit them, plus a walker, you, plus your crap—I’ll just come back. No worries.”
I remembered the last phone conversation we had months earlier. At the time, he ended the call with no worries as a farewell. I thought it was an odd phrase given the tone of our conversation. Turns out, his no worries actually meant be worried.
I had a feeling that all of the other stuff between us—the unspoken words—would be filling the car as well.
“Nick, I should have said this earlier, but maybe it’s not a good idea for you to take me. I can call the Uber guy.”
He sighed. “Parker, if you don’t feel comfortable, I’ll have Henry take you and I’ll get the others. I just—”
“It’s not that I’m uncomfortable, just… Fine. Okay, let’s go,” I blurted, unable to take the cold and wet snow surrounding me anymore.
“Okay.” He smiled, and I knew instantly I would regret this.
“Okay, but for the record, I still think you’re nuts. Noble, and maybe a little bit kind, but nuts,” I said, awkwardly trudging the rest of the way through the snow to climb into the truck.
“I think that was a compliment,” he snickered, following close behind me. “Need a boost?”
I cleared my throat, pulling up the collar of my coat in an effort to shield me from the elements. “Thanks, I’m good.”
But I was far from good. My completely ridiculous-for-the-weather sneakers were soaked through, my hair was wet and icing up against my forehead and neck, and I was shivering from a combination of it all. A trip to the pharmacy was going to be necessary to get some vitamins and a flu shot. I hoped they delivered like the grocery store in town did. Climbing in, I waited not so patiently for him to turn the truck on and blast the heat.
I was shaking so badly that I was rattling the seat. Add in nearly blue hands and lips, and I was a Parker Pop.
“Parker, you must be freezing.” He chuckled, and began aiming all the blasting vents toward my shaking hands. Turning, he took my hands in his and rubbed, the friction giving some life to my numb digits. “Take off your shoes and put them under the vents below the dash.”
“C-Can’t when my hands aren’t free,” I stammered, glancing at his hands surrounding mine.
“Oh, shit.” He dropped my hands, allowing me to attempt to untie my shoes. When that didn’t work because my fingers were too numb, I just pushed them off with each foot.
With all the vents pointed at me, Nick amped up the seat warmer and adjusted the direction of the heat so the blast hit my blue-painted toes.
“Thanks,” I said, hating the sound of my teeth chattering. “I have to go shopping. Warmer stuff. Poor planning.”
“Wasn’t poor planning how Charlotte got here?” He laughed, and reached over to the glove compartment. He pulled out too-large gloves and helped me slide them on.
I nodded. “Look how good that turned out.”
We were facing each other as best we could with the console between us, and my legs outstretched so my feet were under the dash.
It wasn’t the first time I’d been in this car, but the circumstances were vastly different. Last time, we were headed toward his house, not my rental.
It was as if Nick had the same thought at the same moment. His hands stilled, and I missed the warmth they were generating. “Hey, listen�
��”
I shook my brain out of the fog. “I should probably tell you where I’m staying. An Airbnb down on Lakefront Drive. Can’t wait. It’s got a chef’s kitchen,” I said, pulling my hands away.
“Parker, I’ve got some things I want to say.”
“We have to talk, I know that. I just…” And I did know, but was I ready to hear what he was going to say?
“Things ended poorly and I have to acknowledge that,” Nick said, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure if I heard him correctly. “In hindsight, I wish things ended differently.”
But still… ended?
I nodded, keeping my expression guarded—at least, I hoped. I wasn’t the best at a poker face, and certainly not with Nick. An apology was all I was hoping for at this point. If I was lucky, an explanation of why he decided to drop me like a hot potato.
“We have to talk. You’re right. I’m just a bit of a Parkersicle at the moment and I don’t know how solid my responses will be. So maybe we can put a pin in this until I defrost.”
He gave me a weak grin, the sparkle missing from his eyes. “The ball can be in your court. Or maybe I’ll use a different metaphor. The mixer can be in your bowl. The sheet in your oven. The sprinkles on your cupcake. The—”
“I get it,” I said, smiling at his attempt at witty quips—something that I did miss about him, in spite of every wish not to.
My hands were still numb, but the warmth was finally kicking in. Shoving them under my legs, I turned and stared out the windshield and into the great outdoors. I saw snow as far as the eye could see as we drove slowly through the dark streets of town.
“Do you know where you’re going? I have the address right here.”
Nick gripped the steering wheel. “I know where you’re staying. It’s normally not far, but in this…”
I shrugged. “It’s fine. I trust your driving.”
The ride was awkwardly silent. The last time we were together, we chatted about the New York Giants’ upcoming chances once we realized we cheered for the same team. Or how much he loved the banana maple cupcakes I had made and sent to Charlotte for the grand opening of her shop, which was just after our last conversation. This lack of chatting was painful.
He white-knuckled the wheel and I felt like the seat was going to swallow me up. There were the furtive glances where I would look over, get caught, and avert my eyes like an idiot. Then five minutes later, he’d do the same. I missed the conversations we had. The easiness we shared. We should talk about what happened. Why he stopped returning calls and why I still cared months later.
I’d had short relationships before that ended in a not-so-copacetic way, but this one seemed to have its hooks in me. Maybe Nick just managed to get under my skin in a way that no one else had. But I wasn’t ready for that talk quite yet. I couldn’t bear to hear why he didn’t want to see me anymore. I was already in the middle of a crisis with baking. I didn’t have the bandwidth to reopen my crisis of the heart as well. I’d have to actively avoid him if there was any hope of getting my baking mojo back.
About a half hour of awkward silence later, he finally pulled into the circular drive of the house on the lake. I gasped. “The photos did not do this justice,” I breathed, looking at the warmly lit large triangular window at the front of the house. Inside I could see an antler chandelier hanging from a foyer ceiling. Oh, country living…
“Is someone here?” he asked.
“No, the lights are on a timer. The owners are out of town at the moment and couldn’t meet me here, so they set them up.”
Nick nodded. “I’ll get your things and shovel you a path,” he said, sliding out of the car.
Normally, I would have insisted that I could handle it myself, but I still wasn’t totally defrosted, and the thought of trudging through mounds of snow to the front door was low on my list of things to do in Hope Lake.
Nick, in his massive boots and snow gear, made quick work of the snowdrifts that lined the walkway, giving me a mostly clear path right to the front door. He carried the suitcase and duffel on one side while I slipped on my still-wet socks and shoes.
When I slid out of the truck, he gave me his arm to help me out, but since it was clear, I didn’t need to hang on to him like at Gigi’s. I knew he was right behind me, ready to catch me as he had in the foyer.
“Be safe driving the ladies,” I said with my back to him. I flipped open the mailbox and took out the key to open the front door.
“I will. No worries.”
I cringed, and I was glad that he couldn’t see me. I hated that phrase.
“Believe it or not, it was good to see you, Parker,” he said, putting my things inside the opened front door. “If you need me to pick you up for Henry’s birthday, let me know. Or let Charlotte know. We’ll come get you.
“And I’m always a phone call away for when you’re ready to talk.”
I nodded, waiting for him to descend the steps before I closed the door behind him.
“It was good to see you too,” I said, resting my forehead on the cool wood of the door.
The next morning, my breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast was a success. I was grateful that the Airbnb hosts had managed to have a few essentials delivered last minute in an effort to hold me over until I could get to the store.
Thankfully, I didn’t seem to have any issues with cooking, a relief since I preferred not to starve while I was here. While the baking was still a categorical bust, at least I was spending some time successfully in the kitchen. It wasn’t ideal, but maybe it was a start in the right direction.
Plus spending the time acquainting myself in the kitchen helped kill time before my friends arrived to pick me up for Henry’s party, which was thankfully nearby at HLBC.
Unfortunately for them, Charlotte and Henry had dropped by my rental to pick me up earlier than I expected in hopes of touring the house but I still hadn’t cleaned up the kitchen. Their excuse was that they hadn’t seen the property since it was recently refurbished. Apparently, it was a hot spot in town to scope out because of the extensive amount of work that had been done to the home.
Much to their chagrin, they still wouldn’t see it because I met them at the door, dressed and ready to run out of the building.
No one, not even my best friend, needed to see the mess that was in my kitchen. Even though out of everyone, she would have appreciated what I was struggling with and would have understood the mess from my late-afternoon failed attempt at baking scones. I had a boost of confidence thanks to my breakfast success—the rest of the day was a bust.
The normally pristine and obnoxiously orderly Parker had been nowhere to be found. Disaster-riddled cupcakes were strewn across the marble island. Frosting was splattered on the doors of the top cabinets. I was pretty sure a cherry glaze was dripping from the ceiling fan.
I was a train wreck, and my kitchen—the beautiful chef’s kitchen that I couldn’t wait to christen—was proof.
It wasn’t just the cupcake autopsy that I wanted no one to see but also the unpacked groceries the store had sent over. They were kind enough to put the refrigerated and frozen stuff away but the rest… well, let’s say it was still in the bags on what little space was left on the counter.
My hope that Hope Lake was going to give me my baking magic back was evaporating before my eyes.
HLBC was nestled near the lake in a spot that was a prime location for a brewery. It had loads of parking, beautiful scenery no matter the season, outdoor seating, fire pits, and enough land to expand and build a larger wedding-sized venue, which Emma had mentioned in passing was something they were going to do.
When we arrived to spy a parking lot full of 4x4 vehicles, a couple of massive pickup trucks, and even a snowmobile wedged between two large oak trees, I laughed because of course these fine folks would find a way to venture out in this weather.
“We have the party room,” Charlotte offered, answering my unasked question as I looked around to see where we could squeeze our
group between the sea of people at the bar. “I’m glad Henry booked it. We figured people would be staying home in this weather, but I’m glad they’re not. The livelier the place, the more fun we’ll have.”
I nodded, casually trying to scope out who else would be joining us in the party room. “I hope they serve food,” I groaned, squeezing in my stomach. It growled again in protest.
She nodded enthusiastically. “It’s really good. They just started working with someone new on the menu, so it’s limited, but delish nonetheless. Ask Nick when he gets here for a recommendation. I think he’s had everything so far.”
Charlotte caught my frown before I could school my features. “What’s that about?”
“What? Oh, is that Henry?” I pointed to a man who was nearly half Henry’s size and height. “Let’s go see what he’s up to.”
I walked away, leaving a mouth-agape Charlotte looking perplexed. “I hate it when you change the subject!”
Henry, who was coincidentally at the bar, was getting the three of us drinks while we waited for the others to get there.
Charlotte and Emma came strolling up with beer and… water? “What did you bring me?” I asked, taking the frosted beer glass from Emma.
“I took these from Henry,” Emma said. “He got stopped by another teacher and they’re talking shop. He said this is their Toboggan lager winter beer. I’ve never had it before, but Cooper swears it’s the best.”
I raised an eyebrow, glancing down at her water, then her other slightly shaky hand that was resting on her hip, fingers inching toward her stomach. “You haven’t tried it?” I asked, offering it back up to her. “Take a sip, I don’t mind.”
Emma looked longingly at the glass, then side-eyed Charlotte, who seemed determined to not look at either of us in an overly conspicuous way.
I pulled the glass back, raising it and taking a sip while watching Emma’s reaction. “It’s really good,” I said, wiping the side off with a napkin. “Sure you don’t want to try it? Unless of course you can’t have beer right now…”
