“How will people even get there in this?”
“I’m sure there are plows out right now,” Dad said. “And everyone around here has four-wheel drive and snow tires.”
“I’m calling Josh,” I said.
I went to the kitchen phone and dialed. There was no answer.
“See, he’s already out in the snow waiting for you,” Mom said. “Let’s go.”
She was right about one thing. Even if we didn’t have customers, I couldn’t let Josh down.
It was 7:44 on the digital car clock when we pulled up in front of Winnie’s. Josh was supposed to have the card table set up there by then, but the table wasn’t out and neither was he. Nobody was, and there wasn’t a car in sight. Petersville was as dead as it had been that first morning, except now it was covered in snow.
“I’m telling you, Josh saw the snow and went back to sleep,” Jeanine said.
“He wouldn’t do that,” I said, and I believed it. I did. But where was he?
“He probably thought nobody but a complete idiot would come out in a blizzard and try to sell doughnuts on a street corner,” Jeanine said.
“Cut it out,” Mom said.
“He would have called. He wouldn’t just not show up,” I said.
“So where is he then?” Jeanine said.
“Jeanine? Did you hear Mom? Sa soofee!” my father shouted.
That did it, and for a while the only sound in the car was the click-click of the blinkers as we sat there slowly disappearing under the snow.
“Look, don’t those brighten up Main Street?” Mom pointed to flickering, white Christmas lights strung between the General Store and Renny’s.
“Kinda weird,” Jeanine said. “They’re only on one side of the street.”
“Maybe they just haven’t finished putting them up,” Mom said.
It was quiet again for a while. Then Jeanine said, “We should go.”
“We’re not going,” Dad said.
“We’re gonna get stuck,” she sang to the tune of I-told-you-so. “The tires are already covered.”
“We won’t get stuck,” Mom said.
“People die in blizzards like this. They starve, and they freeze,” Jeanine said.
“I don’t want to starve and freeze,” Zoe said.
“Nobody’s going to starve and freeze. This isn’t even a blizzard. It’s a little winter snow, and it’s gorgeous,” Dad said.
“A little winter snow? What do you call a hurricane? A little summer breeze?”
“If she wants to go, let her go!” I shouted, throwing open the car door. Then I climbed out and slammed it hard behind me.
If Josh wasn’t going to show, if no one was going to show, I couldn’t be in that car with them when I gave up.
“Tris, get back in!” Mom shouted out her window.
“Where are you going?” Dad called out his.
“Winnie’s,” I said, taking the doughnuts out of the trunk.
Winnie was all business. If it turned out nobody was coming, she wasn’t going to feel bad for me. And no way would she put up with me feeling bad for myself. She’d make it about the doughnuts and the business, our business.
I was almost to Winnie’s front door when something in her window made me stop. The sign. I’d seen it so many times I never even read it anymore, but the Christmas lights had been strung up on the outside of the window right around it so my eyes couldn’t help themselves:
Yes, we really do have chocolate cream doughnuts!
Follow the flashing lights!
I stumbled back through the snow as fast as I could.
“Look at the sign!” I called out as I put the boxes back in the trunk.
“Follow the flashing lights?” Jeanine said. “What is this? The Wizard of Oz?”
“Go, Dad, go!” I said as soon as I was back in the car.
By the time we reached the other end of Main Street, I knew where we were headed. The little station house exploded with so much light, you probably could have seen where we were headed from way out in space.
“Oooooooh! Pretty!” Zoe said.
Every inch of the little building flashed with tiny white lights that sparkled on the snow like a disco ball.
“It’s a crime against the environment is what it is,” Jeanine said.
“I don’t believe it!” Mom said. “Do you see all those cars?”
“Where?” I said.
She put down her window and stuck her arm out. “Look!”
There, in the lot on the far side of the station house, sat mound after car- and truck-shaped mound of snow.
“They must have been here for hours,” Dad said as he pulled up in front of the station house.
A hooded figure in an army-green parka climbed down the porch steps, waded through the snow to our car, and knocked on my window.
I put the window down, but before I had a chance to open my mouth, Jeanine pushed forward and stuck her head out. “Do you have any idea how much electricity you’re wasting?”
Winnie rolled her eyes. “This the sister?”
“Yeah, one of them,” I said.
“Do you even know we’re in an energy crisis?” Jeanine went on.
“Yup,” Winnie said.
“Jeanine,” my father warned.
“Oh, don’t stop her on my account. I can take it,” Winnie said.
“So, don’t you think we all have a responsibility to conserve electricity?” Jeanine said.
“I sure do,” Winnie said.
“You do?” she said sadly. I could tell she’d been gearing up for a good fight.
“Yup. That’s why I have all these lights on solar-powered batteries. Quite a project, but me and Dr. C got it done. Now if you don’t mind, Slick’s got to get in there and make me some money,” she said, opening the car door. “Get going, Slick.”
“I just have to get the doughnuts out of the back,” I said as I got out.
“My condolences,” Winnie said as we climbed the porch steps. “My brother Clive’s a peach compared to that one.”
“Camping blankets! Wool socks! Folding chairs! Beef jerky!” somebody called from inside the station house.
“What’s that?”
“Harley. Gotta give the man credit. He certainly knows how to make the most of a business opportunity. I know it might seem like he was stealing your thunder, but look at it this way, if he hadn’t brought in those portable heaters, no way people would have made
