I let it sit, something I learned from Kris. For the first time I notice there’s holiday music coming from somewhere. I distract myself by wondering if Gil and Romina are in some kind of “torture Jasper” pact with Carol.
“It’s not just the grandkid,” Gil says after a long minute. He stares into his cup, and I see the doubt written all over his face. Beside him, Romina clasps her hands, and he takes a deep breath. “It’s that I don’t want to miss a second of seeing my son be a father. Can’t wait to see him be great at it.” He smiles, looks over at Romina, chuckles slightly. “Can’t wait to see him mess up at it, either.”
I blink across the table, struck dumb. Of course I’d miss this part of the equation, this kind of unconditional family affection. Of course I have no answer for it.
“I know you don’t have kids of your own,” he says. “But you can imagine how I feel.”
“No, sir,” I say sharply, honestly, and I know as soon as it’s out of my mouth, it’s an error. It’s the wrong tone, too personal. Beside me, Kristen’s gone stiff, but I don’t stop the end of my sentence. “I can’t.”
There’s a heavy silence. I’ve ruined the mood, the possibility. I’ve ruined the job, if the way Kristen is standing from her seat is any indication.
“I think it’d be a good idea for Jasper and me to get settled in our hotel.” She’s said this so smoothly, as though there’s some nearby hotel we’ve booked. We haven’t—she’s flying this evening and I’ve got a room in Boston for the next three nights, because why the hell not. But that’s how bad I’ve messed it up—getting out of here for a debrief is necessary. “Would you be up for an early dinner in town?”
Romina looks at her, seeming grateful. But then she chuckles. “I guess that means you haven’t heard,” she says. “I don’t think we’ll be getting out much this evening.”
And that’s when the first gust of wind roars outside.
Chapter Six
KRISTEN
A ground blizzard.
A freak ground blizzard.
Starting even earlier than Gil and Romina had heard about.
I’m sitting stiffly on their plaid-upholstered couch, staring at the muted television screen. The fact that there’s barely any reporting from the Boston stations on what’s happening outside says everything about how isolated we are out here. Gil says ground blizzards don’t come around much in this part of the country, but their small town is unusually flat, and there’s not many tree lines surrounding the main roads. If there’s good news, Romina says, it’s that it’ll probably be over by midnight, and so long as there’s no other weather in the area, the roads will probably be clear by tomorrow afternoon.
Outside, the wind steadily howls, the windows shaking with it, white swaths of snow whipping by. Inside, it’s almost as tense: on my lap, my phone lights up with texts from Kelly and my mom, who are now, given my quick update, afraid I might not make it to Michigan at all. In the kitchen, Tanner and Allison speak in hushed tones to each other as they make dinner. Gil and Romina disappeared about ten minutes ago, probably because of what’s happening behind me—Jasper, pacing the length of the couch, on his phone, his tone rigidly, falsely controlled.
The bad weather feels like compounding interest, piling on top of the tension Jasper’s carried with him all day—this morning at the airport, the quiet drive here, his reaction to this house, this family. His frank, almost desolate reply to Gil at the table. If there’s any advantage to what’s happened here, it’s that I’ll have more time to figure out what’s really going on with him. Whatever else is strained between us, we’re friends, and I don’t like seeing him this way.
“Your website says you’re the best car service in the state of Massachusetts,” he’s saying. “You don’t have a single car in your fleet that could get the job done?”
“Jasper,” I say quietly, but I don’t think he hears me. I told him not to bother with this, that he’d only need to take one look outside to see all he’d need to know about our chances, but he’d insisted.
“I’ve got four and a half hours to get my partner on a flight. I will pay you whatever you want. Up front, I’ll pay you. A bonus if you get her there on time. Anything.”
I move around to the back of the couch, stand at one end so I can intercept him when he makes his inevitable turn. He’s got his head down, so I reach out, set a hand on his forearm. It stops him in his tracks.
“It’s fine,” I whisper. “Really. I’ll rebook for tomorrow.”
His jaw clenches and he mutters a grudging “Thank you for your time” into his phone before hanging up. He looks so defeated, and I can’t help it—I move my hand, stroke his arm lightly. He took off his jacket before he made the call, rolled up his shirtsleeves as though he was about to get into a fistfight, so I’m touching his bare, warm skin, the muscles beneath corded and firm. I feel like my swallow could be heard on another planet, and that damned bell is ringing somewhere around my heart.
“I’m ruining your Christmas,” he says quietly, keeping his voice low and looking briefly over my shoulder to make sure Tanner and Allison aren’t listening.
“You’re not ruining it.”
“You’d be with your family right now, if it weren’t for me.”
He blinks down at where my hand rests on his skin, but he doesn’t move. I don’t either.
“If it weren’t for the job,” I say, keeping my voice hushed too.
“Right. The job.”
“Jasper. What happened in there?”
He shrugs. “I’m off my game.”
“Because of me.”
He looks at me miserably. I think
