by Nancy Naigle
The calendar that took up the entire whiteboard on the wall next to Vanessa’s desk was a flurry of scribbles in all different colors. From back here it almost looked like a Monet, or a Kandinsky—a masterpiece of color.
She picked up a green marker and walked over to today’s date. December 18.
Exactly one week before Christmas Day. That block held a colorful drawing of a Christmas tree with a bright yellow star on top. It wasn’t artistic at all, just a squiggly green line for the tree, but someone had put it there overnight a week ago. Like a Secret Santa present.
She raised the marker, and rather than x-ing out today as she had every day since the third, she drew a big check mark, then dropped the pen into the tray below.
She made one last sweep of the office. If it weren’t for Anna she could’ve left and never come back. Except for her handwriting on the wall, literally, there was no personal sign of her ever being here.
Her hands tingled. There was no way she could just walk out of Porter’s today, close the door, and never say goodbye to the people she’d met here. She was used to being disconnected—never looking back on the places she’d been. The emotional tug made her a little dizzy.
She took one last look down Main Street from the office window, then gathered her things and went down to the parking lot, where Anna’s car sat packed and ready to roll for the Greensboro airport.
The local weatherman had been calling for snow for three days, but the first flakes had started to fall when she stepped outside. Dry flakes blew around like Styrofoam packing debris, skittering along the walkway around her. She got into Anna’s car and started the engine, patiently letting it warm up as she’d promised.
She eased out of the parking spot and headed out of town.
The roads were clear, and there was very little traffic. Singing to Christmas carols at the top of her lungs, she couldn’t wait to get today’s meeting in Chicago over with so she could do some shopping and catch the last flight back.
Our tree is beautiful, but it needs some presents underneath it.
As she drove out of town, the snow started falling faster. She double-checked her GPS to be sure she was still on the right route, because she hadn’t seen a sign in a while.
The snow was coming down harder, but thankfully the roads weren’t bad, and the heat in Anna’s car was keeping her toasty warm.
The radio station became fuzzy with static. A few twists of the knob didn’t find anything but more of the same, so she switched it off.
The steady squish-swish-thrump of the wipers made a rum-pumpum-pum melody. On top of the world for nailing this project in record time, she was anxious to tie it up in a nice neat bow, then get back and relax with Anna until the new year rang in. Jetting off somewhere tropical to watch the ball drop in short sleeves with her bonus money sounded pretty good right now.
The heavier snow produced a fluffy layer across the median and trees. Every once in a while, the snow would swirl into a bunch, making everything seem as white as if she were in the clouds.
She clutched the wheel as a gust pushed against the car, sending her heart on a Tilt-A-Whirl for a moment there, but she’d stayed the course.
Nothing to see here.
Alone with her thoughts as she was, the beauty of the winter wonderland forming right in front of her made her feel like a speck in the vast beauty of nature. The pines stood tall, and the white pellets seemed to define the space between the hefty bark pieces like a puzzle snow line.
She forged ahead, silently appreciating the time she’d had in Fraser Hills, and Anna. All the others too. She’d continue to mentor Misty from Chicago. Misty could take the reins at Porter’s someday if she wanted to. Meeting that young lady had elevated Vanessa’s own awareness. Her immediate response had been to coach Misty to balance things. Talk about “Do as I say, not as I do.” She was horrible at it, and Anna had tried to tell her a million times.
She thought of how Anna had looked at Buck. Anna looked ten years younger this morning.
Then her phone sounded and about scared her out of her lane.
Bear right at the next exit.
She slowed and got into the right lane, happy to finally get off the highway. The snowflakes were getting bigger and falling softer.
She followed the signs to the airport, and valeted the car. There was no line at security, so it seemed overkill to be in the TSA PreCheck line, but the habit had led her there. Her bags made the scan and she still had time for a cup of coffee before they began boarding.
The coffee shop boasted a holiday special: an insulated travel mug filled with Ho Ho Mocha Gingerbread Latte. “I’ll have the special, please.”
A few minutes later she was walking through the only gift shop on this concourse. Mostly necessities, but in the back corner they had a cute assortment of locally crafted holiday items for last-minute shopping travelers. Velvety wine-colored stockings trimmed in gold satin cording. One style had a gold vine and stylized poinsettia blooms, and the other a partridge in a scrolling pear tree.
She’d totally forgotten about the stockings she’d had embroidered before she left Chicago. She picked up a few little stocking stuffers, then checked out. Pleased with her purchase, she headed to the gate.
She walked over, but no one was lined up at the gate yet. The airline counter attendant made an announcement:
“Passengers in the gate area waiting on Flight 3333 to Chicago, this flight is being delayed due to a mechanical problem. I’ll provide you an update as soon as I have one. At this time, we are showing a delay of forty-five minutes. Please—”
Passengers grumbled.
Vanessa glanced down at her watch. One delay would make it tight for her to make the meeting. Any longer than that, and she’d miss it entirely.
“Hi, Kendra,” she said into her phone. “My flight is delayed. Can you check Edward’s calendar and see if we can switch my meeting with him to later in the day?”
“Actually, I was getting ready to call you. He just rescheduled. He’s got you down for Monday afternoon at four now.”
Four o’clock? “That was a long drive in the snow for no reason. You know that Monday meeting will get pushed.”
“We both know it. The good news is he’ll feel bad for pushing you off today, and he won’t even know you didn’t make it back in for the meeting. Go treat yourself to a spa day or something.”
“There’s no sense flying in over the weekend. I’ll come in on Monday.”
“I thought you’d be jumping at the chance to come back. Isn’t that little town driving you crazy?”
“No. I’m actually enjoying it down here.”
“I’ve seen the reports coming in. Your assistant there is on point. Don’t you think about replacing me.”
“Actually, those aren’t being done by my assistant Lilene. I pulled up another resource to handle them. She’s good, isn’t she?”
“Yeah, I haven’t had to reformat or tweak a single report this time. I’ve been basically filing my nails here, and taking very long lunches to get my shopping done.”
“Thanks for holding down the fort. You know I appreciate you managing the workflow to the big guys.”
“I do,” Kendra said. “Well, if I don’t talk to you again before the holiday, I hope you and your cousin have a merry Christmas.”
“We will. It’s going to be wonderful. You’re not going to believe this, but we even put up a tree.” Vanessa could picture the look of disbelief on Kendra’s face, and darn if the sarcasm and doubt didn’t show in her sassy response.
“Is it a picture you put on your phone home screen?”
Vanessa knew Kendra so well. “No. We have a real honest-to-goodness live Christmas tree. Sap and everything.”
“Sounds messy.” Kendra tsked. “Count me out.”
“It is messy.” Anna had the DustBuster out vacuuming those needles up again this morning. “But it smells so good.”
“You’re not going country on me, are you?”
“Me? Never. I’m a city girl. What would I do there?”
“I have no idea. Cut down trees maybe? I’m just checking. I’d hate to have to break in a new boss.”
“You’re safe. I better head on back so I can get there before nightfall. Those country roads are dark.”
“I’ll reschedule your flight for Monday morning. You can always cancel it if you want to. Might as well do it on the phone at this point. He’s marked ‘out of office’ all next week already.”
“Thanks for the update.” Vanessa ended the call and headed out of the airport terminal to cash out with the valet. She stepped up to the red, white, and blue sign. “Larkin. I literally just dropped off my car. Shortest valet in history.” She handed the tag over to the older woman wearing a Santa hat.
She clicked around on her keyboard, then reached behind her on the wall. “They haven’t even moved you yet. You’re right outside by the curb.”
Vanessa handed the woman her credit card.
“No charge.” The woman handed Vanessa Anna’s key ring. “Merry Christmas.”
Vanessa cupped the keys in her hand. “Thank you so much. Merry Christmas to you too.” She flipped the keys as she walked outside. The car wasn’t even cold yet. She started the engine and found a radio station, then pulled out onto the road.
The radio announcer chatted about the weather between songs. “It’s an icy-cold one out there, folks. Things here locally? Snow has subsided. Roads are passable and we’re at a balmy twenty-seven degrees. Keep an eye on the forecast if you’re traveling this weekend, though. The whole county is getting blasted right now. They should have four to eight inches of fresh snow for us tomorrow. Even more at the higher elevations. Who else will be packing up to hit the slopes this weekend besides me? How about this one to get us in the mood.”
“Let It Snow” began to play.
She sang along, glad the precipitation had slowed down a bit, and that the deejay hadn’t mentioned Fraser Hills in the snow-blast alert. It was still early; if all went according to plan, she’d be back by midafternoon.
She picked up her phone to call Anna, but at the last moment decided to surprise her instead.
The first hour of her drive back was nice. The radio station stayed clear, and the snow had held off, but then the bright sky suddenly became milky gray.
Heavy clouds now hung like a cloak over the landscape, and sleet spattered against her windshield. She leaned forward, focusing on the road, letting the taillights ahead of her lead the way.
The sleet turned to slushy snowflakes the size of Ping-Pong balls that smashed against the windshield as if she were under attack by a thousand angry elves with slingshots. The windshield wipers slung them from the glass in clumps to the hood of the car.
She slowed as the cars on the highway became fewer and fewer. The radio station had fizzled out, not that she’d be able to hear it over the messy weather anyway.
Her GPS showed that the next turn was twenty miles away. Her stomach clenched at the thought of driving those back twisty roads that were beginning to cover with snow. She moved to the left lane to pass a slow-moving salt truck.
Her hands clutched the steering wheel. When she finally reached the turn toward Fraser Hills, it didn’t look as bad. This road had already been scraped. Tall piles of snow had been pushed to the sides of the road.
“Almost there.” She patted the dash. “We’ve got this, old girl.”
The sprawling acres of green grass were now blanketed in snow. Like in a picture postcard, smoke puffed from the chimney of a farmhouse. A single white candle shone from each window. She could picture a family inside gathered around the warm fire.
Finally, she passed the WELCOME TO FRASER HILLS sign in the median.
She let out a breath, rolling her tight shoulders from the death grip she’d had on the steering wheel. She slowed to a consistent forty miles an hour. Keep moving. Slow and steady.
It was only about three o’clock, ahead a bright yellow snow scraper rumbled along pushing the snow from the roads into town. The sound of the heavy metal blade scratching against the pavement below made an unpleasant screech. She turned right, taking the side road to avoid getting stuck behind it.
Ping. Her eyes only left the road for a split second to check her phone, but when she looked up there was something in the road.
Panic pushed her foot to the brake; the car slid to the right and twisted on the icy asphalt. A deer with big antlers bounded across the windshield as if flying, never touching the car as it continued to swerve. Turn in to the skid. The car made a slooshing sound and everything from there was as if she were in slow motion. She caught a glimpse of the bright white tail of the deer disappearing into the woods in front of her, and then, thud!
No.
She was more out of breath than had she jogged through the deep snow herself. She clutched her chest, trying to collect herself. The windshield was white. Covered in snow.
The airbag hadn’t deployed.
Probably a good thing. She’d heard of people getting pretty banged up from those things.
The car was catawampus, making it hard to sit up straight. She tugged on the door handle and pushed against the door, but it didn’t budge, and neither would the seat belt when she pressed the button.
Her purse and phone had slid from the center console into the back. She reached for her phone.
“Seriously?”
It was just out of reach. She pulled her feet up closer to the seat to try to gain a few inches, but the seat belt tightened as she moved.
“Now what?”
She was only a block or two away from Main Street. There had to be houses not too far from here.
She honked the horn. What’s “SOS”? One long. Two short? She used to know, but right now she couldn’t think straight. “If I could reach my phone, I might be able to Google that. Or call for help and not need to honk an SOS.”
She blasted the horn then waited a couple of minutes, to try honking again. She looked up at the rearview mirror. In her own car she had emergency assist at the touch of a finger.
Buy Anna a car with emergency assist.
I’ll probably owe her a new one after this anyway. At least the deer got away unharmed.
She pictured Bill Campbell with an Elmer Fudd outfit on hunting down the deer that made her wreck.
Okay, I’m getting giddy.
She tried to restart the car, but it wouldn’t turn over, but at least the “SOS” code came back to her. “Three short, three long, three short. I knew that.” She laid on the horn again with the right dits and dahs.
Wishing for the little hammer-and-cutter gadget they advertised on late-night television, she rummaged through the console and the glove box the best she could from the driver’s seat.
Next year everyone gets one of those gadgets in their stocking.
She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. The car was getting cold fast.
Honking three short, three long, three short she hoped someone out there could hear her.
“I’m going to be really mad if I freeze to death. I’ve got things I want to do.” Anna’s reminders that there was more to life than work played in her mind.
She pressed the back of her head against the seat and worked her way out from beneath the shoulder strap. Freezing to death isn’t an option. Honestly, she didn’t even know if it was a possibility. It might only be in the teens out there by now, but she couldn’t just sit here either.
The edge of the seat belt scraped her cheek as she cleared it to get it behind her.
With the extra freedom from moving the seat belt, she was able to grab her phone.
“Lilene. It’s Vanessa. I’ve had an accident. I’m in a ditch a half-block away from Main Street. At least I think that’s where I am. I can’t get out of the car. Can you get me help?”
“Yes. Are you okay?”
“I think I’m fine, but the door won’t budge. I can’t get out.”
“
Those roads are slick. We sent everyone home early so they could salt and scrape the roads. Hang on.”
Vanessa clutched the phone until Lilene came back on the line.
“They’re on their way to get ya. Don’t you worry.”
“Thanks for calling for help.”
“Want me to stay on the line?”
“No. That’s not necessary. I’m fine.”
She dropped her phone in her lap and relaxed. Of course they’ll drop everything and come help me. That’s what they do around here.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Mike loved nothing more than being on horseback in fresh snow. You could exhaust a smaller horse in no time in this kind of snow, but he and Big Ben didn’t mind taking it slow. Mike hitched the light sleigh to Ben and headed out. Nothing demanding, just man, horse, and nature. He inhaled the fresh smell of snow.
When he was showing the hitch, the sound of the equipment and bells made his heart pound with excitement. This was the opposite. The only sound was the quiet slice of the sleigh rails in the snow, and the squeaky crunch as Ben pushed his weight into the icy snow.
Occasionally the heavy air would trap the smoke like a flying carpet afloat above his neighbors’ houses.
Less than a week before Christmas he was certain there were some people in a panic that they’d lost one good shopping day today. He could picture the piles of shiny wrapped gifts under the trees of each house as he took the slow ride through the neighborhoods surrounding Main Street.
Most of the houses on this street had a Christmas tree with twinkling lights in the front window. Some white, some colorful. An old soul, he favored the big old glass bulbs of years gone by.
He and Misty loved stringing lights in the barn and on the house. It never got old, and the thought of her outgrowing that made him a little sad.
This year some people had those puffy blow-up air figures. That dadgum Amazon put just about anything at the fingertips of people all over the nation. He’d rather see those big plastic candles from days gone by or a nativity scene than a blowup of a Santa-hat-wearing dinosaur. What was Christmassy about that?
The roads through here hadn’t been scraped yet. As Mike rode by his buddy James’s house, the eight-foot inflatable Santa driving a bright red monster off-road truck full of presents pretty much fit James to a T, though.