“How deep was it?” Ricky asked.
“No way of knowing,” his father said. “It’s just one of those things. The snow makes these traps sometimes, especially around the bases of evergreen trees, and you don’t know how hard it is to try to get out until you’re faced with the idea that you might have to wait for spring when everything finally melts.”
Ricky tried to picture it and he couldn’t. He opened his mouth to ask his father to explain it better, but before he could his father seemed to change the subject.
“You feel like you’ve been in love?”
“Sorry?” Ricky asked.
“I’ll explain. There’s love, and then there’s a close facsimile that you think is love but it’s really just a bargaining chip.”
“Bargaining with who?”
“Yourself,” his father said.
“I don’t know what that means.”
“You ever pray?”
Of his parents, his father was the one who had been the first to stop going to church. For a while, Ricky and George had gone with their mother, but even that stopped when she decided that keeping up appearances wasn’t as important as getting stuff done on Sunday.
His father glanced at him and saw the confusion his question had inspired.
“I mean like when you’re in a tight spot. Do you ever pray for your safety or someone you love?”
“Oh. Sure, I guess.”
“What do you really think you’re doing in that moment?”
Ricky looked back through the car window. They were passing the gas station that made pickle sandwiches. When George was sick, it was practically all he would eat. The pickles had to be round with crinkly edges and the mustard had to be bright yellow.
“I guess it’s a way to offload some anxiety so I can calm myself down. I ask God to take some of the burden and then everything is more clear,” Ricky said. Part of his answer was true and the rest was a guess as to what his father was trying to get at.
“Exactly,” Vernon said. “I like to think of it as a bargain that you’re making with yourself. You’re deciding to trust yourself, provisionally, to make it through some hardship. Well the same thing can happen when you’re going through a tight spot with someone else at your side. You know that you have to trust that person, but instead of thinking it as a prayer, you call it love.”
“Dad?”
“Yes?”
“Could you pull over and let me drive? I think you’re having a stroke.”
His father laughed with him.
“You know I’m not great with metaphors. Let me start over.”
“Make it quick, you only have a couple of minutes until we get to the station.”
“Right,” Vernon said. Still, he took a deep breath and composed his thoughts before he spoke again. “You went through a tight spot with Amber. I went through a tight spot with Nancy. That night, stuck in that snow pit under that tree, Nancy and I had to rely on each other in order to stay alive. By the time we were rescued, we had invested so much trust in each other that we both mistook it for love. In the days that followed, we couldn’t figure out why every minute together was torture. We felt like we owed it to each other to fall in love because we each owed our lives to the other. It wasn’t true.”
“And you think that’s why I care so much about what happens to Amber?”
“I’m asking you to consider the possibility,” Vernon said.
“Could you consider a possibility for me, Dad?”
“Sure.”
“Could you maybe try to regard me as a rational, thoughtful person who doesn’t just act on my impulses without considering them carefully?”
“I do,” Vernon said.
“Do you? Slow down. We don’t like it when people speed through this turn,” Ricky said.
His father took his foot off of the accelerator and let the car lose velocity until they were barely going half the speed limit. When Vernon cranked the wheel to pull into the parking lot, Ricky rolled his eyes and sighed.
“Thanks, Dad. I appreciate you coasting me to work.”
“You said you didn’t want me to go fast. What time should I pick you up.”
Ricky didn’t answer. He was transfixed by the woman who was leaning against her car over near the entrance. He got out before his father had even pulled to a stop.
# # #
“Amber?” Ricky called as he jogged towards her. “You’re okay!”
“Oh, right. Yes. Sorry. It’s been a long night and my phone won’t charge. I usually charge it wirelessly and when I went to plug in the cable, it wouldn’t go in all the way, and…”
“But what are you doing here? What happened last night?”
She sighed.
“It’s a long story. Hey, sorry to show up at your work like this, but I didn’t know your address. I caught a flight to Boston and drove up in this rental.”
“It’s fine—don’t sweat it. Let me go inside and tell them I’m sick or something and I’ll be right back.”
Amber laughed at him. “You can’t show up all dressed in your uniform and tell them you’re sick. Listen, I’ve been up all night anyway. Just point me in the direction of a hotel and a place where I can buy a new charger and I’ll catch up with you after your shift.”
“Did you sell your uncle’s place?”
“I don’t want to go there alone.”
“Oh,” Ricky said, nodding.
“So… I’ll just do a hotel or maybe a…”
“Nonsense. You can’t tell me you’re in a hurry to stay in another hotel in Maine.”
Ricky turned around and waved to his father. The car was still sitting there with the engine idling. His father was watching him through the door that Ricky had left open. Vernon’s mouth was hanging agape. When Ricky waved, Vernon shut off the car and got out to come towards them.
“Amber, this is my father, Vernon. Dad this is Amber. Can you take her home and get her set up in the guest room? She’s been up all night and needs rest.”
“Oh, no…” Amber started to say.
“Absolutely,” Vernon said, taking
