A Match Made At Christmas

by Ellen Jane

  It’s when they’re inside that they realise the problem. Outside, the wind was too distracting to pay attention to anything beyond how cold they were. Now, they stare out the windshield in silence, white blinding their vision outside of two inches beyond the glass.

  “We can’t drive in this,” Jo says, her voice free of emotion. “How long is it meant to last?”

  “I don’t know.” Lee watches the snowflakes fall, a hollow sensation growing in her chest. “We could stay in the car with the heater running?”

  Jo shakes her head, brown curls cascading around her face. “It could last all night. We need to get somewhere safe.”

  Lee winces. “I think there’s a motel down the end of street. I don’t know if they have any vacancies though.”

  “We can pay them for a room and sleep on the floor in the foyer,” Jo says, opening the door and getting out. “Come on!” she yells behind her, the wind stealing her voice and throwing it into the swirling snow.

  Lee follows, and they race down the street, but they can’t see two feet ahead of them by now. They fumble and grab onto each other’s hands, slowing their walk so they don’t lose their footing.

  “I’m so sorry I dragged you into this,” Lee yells into Jo’s ear.

  “I would’ve followed you anyway!” Jo yells back, and Lee is suffused with warmth.

  The air is so cold, Lee’s ears and nose have gone numb, and she wonders if it might be a better idea to give up on the motel and knock on one of the doors they keep passing. She isn’t one hundred percent certain they’re walking in the right direction; it could have been the other way. Even if they find it, the staff will already have locked their doors against the blizzard.

  “This is hopeless,” Jo says, barely audible above the wind. “I can’t even see the buildings, let alone recognise where we are. We could have walked past it and I’d have no idea.”

  Lee nods, the movement making her ears twinge, and together they change direction towards the buildings. Their feet sink into the fresh snow, and soon they stumble on a hard ridge of concrete that turns out to be stairs. Snow-covered brick emerges from the white, and they lean against the wall to guide them up into the alcove where they are free from at least the wind, if not the cold.

  Jo hammers on the door while Lee sticks her head around the pillar to see if she can figure out how far they are from the motel. Given how fast they were walking, they could be several streets away by now, which means they’re close. But she doesn’t know for sure, and it’s not safe.

  She turns back to Jo, who is still banging on the door, and loses her balance. She catches herself against the wall and looks down to see what she tripped on. Her heart freezes.

  “Jo!” She drops to her knees and shakes the slumped over figure by the shoulders, trying to wake them up. “Jo! Someone’s here!”

  A face becomes visible through the curtain of black hair, and she realises it’s Rebecca. Jo swears and kneels down beside her, taking off her gloves and pressing two fingers below Rebecca’s neck.

  “She’s okay,” Jo says after an agonising few seconds. “God, how long has she been stuck in the cold?”

  Lee taps Rebecca’s cheeks, gentle at first but harsher as panic sets in.

  “Rebecca!” she snaps. “Rebecca, wake up!”

  Jo’s jaw drops. “This is the girl?” She gawks at Rebecca, awe written across her face. “Damn, babe, you really are lucky.” She frowns and her voice takes on a hint of fear. “At least, fingers crossed you are.”

  Rebecca’s eyelids flutter and slowly open.

  “There we go!” Jo whoops. “Definitely lucky. Let’s get you inside.” She turns back to the door and punches it. “Why aren’t you opening?”

  “There’s no one inside.” Rebecca’s voice is slurred and halting at first. She coughs and struggles to stand, accepting Lee’s help. “All these buildings are empty. I knocked on every door.”

  She looks at Lee, and recognition dawns. “Lee, right?” She grins, though it’s pained. “Boy, am I glad to see you.”

  Lee laughs, the sound coming out more like a sob.

  “What do we do?” Jo asks. Her face is pale, and even her nose and cheeks are no longer red. Her movements are slowing down, and Lee doesn’t need a mirror to know she looks the same.

  “We have to keep going,” Lee says, heart clenching at the despair in Jo’s eyes. “What else is there?”

  “We could break a window and climb inside,” Jo points out.

  Rebecca gives her a rueful smile. “I tried that. There are bars on the lower levels.”

  Lee refuses to give into despair, and there is one option left. One crazy, stupid option. She reaches into her coat, pulls out the matchbook, and hands it to Rebecca.

  “This will sound nuts,” she says, the words tumbling over each other. “But can you light that match?”

  Rebecca takes the box with a frown. “Hey, that’s mine.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Lee confesses with a sigh. “That’s sort of the problem, and I’m sorry, but it’s the only idea I have.”

  Rebecca glances at her like she’s insane, but she draws out the last match and studies it. An expression crosses her face—a strange mix of reluctance and sorrow—before she takes a breath and strikes it against the cardboard.

  Heat flares around them. Glorious, life-saving heat. The flame illuminates their faces in flickering light that grows in front of their eyes, filling the alcove like a beacon. It doesn’t suit the size of the match at all, and Lee is sure that all three of their faces are frozen in equal masks of disbelief.

  Colour returns to Jo and Rebecca’s cheeks, and the numbness fades from Lee’s body. Warmth surrounds them until they are no longer stooping and braced against the wall, two steps away from curling up on the ground and going to sleep. The match flares, showing no sign of blowing out, and energy courses through Lee.

  “The motel is this way,” Lee says, her doubts fading.

  Rebecca holds the light in front, and even the wind fades, like they are suspended in a bubble of protection two feet out from their skin. The blizzard rages around them, but their steps meet no resistance, and within a few minutes they have reached the motel. It was only two buildings away.

  The match flares and dies.

  “Come on,” Jo says, staring at the burnt match. “Let’s go inside.”

  Lee looks at the name of the motel—The Early Wanderer—and realises why the words printed on the matchbook were always so familiar.

  “My grandma used to own this place,” Rebecca says and opens her mouth as if to say something else before falling silent and opening the door.

  It swings open without a hitch, and Jo breathes a sigh of relief.

  “I mean, the windows don’t have bars, so I wasn’t worried,” she mutters to Lee as they follow Rebecca inside, “but I’d rather not end tonight with a criminal record. Frostbite is enough of a Christmas present for me.”

  Rebecca leads the way to the front desk where an old woman sits up and regards them with faint alarm.

  “I was about to lock the doors!” She drops her magazine on the counter and turns to her computer. “It’s dangerous out there.”

  “Deadly,” Rebecca agrees, something sombre in her tone that makes the woman’s small talk come to an abrupt halt.

  Lee hands over her credit card for the room, and they retreat into the warmth and safety with thanks. Finally able to check her phone, Lee finds a slew of messages from Max.

  It’s a new Holiday Tradition—make snowmen in the comfort of your own living room.

  Seriously, where are you guys?

  It’s a freaking blizzard out there. Did you know there was a blizzard coming???

  Are you coming back?

  Is it the snowmen? I can melt them but I can’t promise the carpet will ever be the same.

  At least if we keep the snowmen, it will be like we chose this.

  Everyone loves to feel in control.

  WHERE ARE YOU?

&
nbsp; Lee taps out a message to let Max know they’re okay. Max pops up in the chat immediately.

  Thank god, I was really starting to worry. Where are you?

  Lee smiles down at her phone. We’ve checked into a motel. It’s a long story, but we’re safe. Are you okay?

  Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve barricaded myself in my room and I’ll send the heating bill to the insurance company.

  Good plan.

  Are you two finally hooking up, then?

  Lee’s eyes widen in shock, and she loses her grip on the phone, catching it at the last second. Jo looks over at her.

  What the hell are you talking about? She sends back.

  Please tell me you’re not that stupid.

  I think I am.

  Jo came home for Christmas for you, you utter tool. The only reason she hasn’t made a move before is because she assumed I was in love with you, courtesy of that misguided dating spree we had all those years ago. Honestly, barf. You deserve each other if you’re both this blind. All that stuff about working out what she wants and needs? She was talking about you, man.

  Lee stares at the phone for so long, Max begins typing again.

  Go and snog her or something. You’re welcome.

  She disappears offline.

  Rebecca has already cocooned herself in the blankets of the single bed and is breathing heavily. The lights are dim, and Jo is removing her coat and gloves, still studying Lee with that curious expression.

  “You look like you swallowed a bug,” she says after the silence has stretched too long, taking off her black jumper and dumping it on the floor. “Is something wrong?”

  Lee shakes her head, butterflies dancing around in her stomach. “No, nothing’s wrong.”

  “Good.” The smile drops from Jo’s face. “Is it the bed?” she asks, glancing at the double bed that Rebecca left for them. “Because I can sleep anywhere.”

  “No!” Lee protests.

  A flush rises on Jo’s cheeks. “Okay.”

  She turns from Lee to the bed and back again. She taps her fingers restlessly against her thighs, like she doesn’t know what to do with her hands. Jo is acting nothing like her usual confident self, and Lee’s chest fills again with that strange emotion she’d felt when she first told Jo about the matchbook. It’s as if she is seeing Jo for the first time, as if Jo is seeing her too.

  Her body fills with warmth, like someone has lit a match inside her.

  “Max says I’m an idiot,” she blurts out.

  Jo’s eyebrows raise, and she stutters for a second, like she knows exactly what Lee is talking about, before saying, “Do you want me to beat her up?”

  Lee laughs. She is holding her face awkwardly, and her nerves are so out of control she can hardly breathe, but she throws it all to the wind and says, “I’d rather you just kissed me.”

  Jo’s face lights up, and she crosses the room in two strides, coming to a halt a foot from Lee. “Are you sure?” she asks, lips quirking into a grin. “Because I’ve been trying to get a read on you these last couple days, and you didn’t seem interested.”

  Lee pulls a face. “I was too busy trying to win you over with magic matches.”

  “You don’t need magic to win me over, you absolute pillock. I’ve been flirting with you for eight years.”

  It’s impossible, but it’s also somehow true. Lee can’t figure out what she did to make that good luck block disappear. She thinks the answer lies somewhere in the last few hours—somewhere between letting go of what was never hers in the first place and, despite all her fears, accepting what always was.

  But she doesn’t care about the details. Not when she has Jo standing in front of her with a smile like the sun, waiting to be kissed.

  She rests her hands on Jo’s waist and sinks into the way Jo’s fingers thread through her hair, seconds before she crosses the final distance between them and presses their lips together. Despite nearly dying of hypothermia, Jo’s mouth is deliciously warm, and Lee has to focus to stop herself from whimpering. Still a little chapped from the wind and snow, their lips soon soften as they each pull the other closer, making up for lost time and stupidity.

  Lee lets Jo walk her backwards towards the bed, falling down with a hastily bitten back shriek that is soon muffled with another kiss. And even though the kiss is wonderful and everything she’s ever dreamed of, she has never in her life touched anything as soft and cosy as these bed sheets right now.

  She pulls back and leans into the pillow. “It’s so freaking soft.”

  Jo buries her face in it and mumbles around the stuffing. “It’s like a cloud.”

  Lee closes her eyes. “I just need a minute. Just… one minute.”

  “Hard same, babe,” Jo’s voice slurs, even more muffled now. She fumbles for Lee’s hand and clasps it in hers, entwining their fingers together. “There. See? We’re still snogging.”

  “Still snogging,” Lee agrees dreamily. “Definitely not… falling asleep.”

  The last thing Lee is aware of before the world fades to black is the sound of Jo’s breath, warm and steady right beside her.

  Five

  The morning sun filters through the glass, soft and warm on Lee’s skin. It’s Christmas day, and the blizzard has gone.

  Someone moves behind her, and Lee remembers where she is, her breath catching as she realises it wasn’t a dream. There is an arm wrapped around her waist, stirring with slow, sleepy movements as it draws back to the other side of the bed. Light fingers trail across her shoulder, squeezing her arm once, gentle and loving, before they leave. Heart fluttering, she rolls over to see Jo rubbing her makeup-smeared eyes and stretching, a curtain of messy hair covering her face. She looks more perfect than Lee could ever imagine.

  “What time is it?” Lee mumbles, her voice thick with sleep.

  “Too goddamn early,” Jo replies, fumbling for her phone and squinting at it. “Eight something. Eight twenty. Too early for the morning after nearly dying. That’s a nine o’clock lie in, minimum.”

  “Check-out’s at nine,” an amused voice says from behind them.

  Jo and Lee sit bolt upright, only to find Rebecca perched cross-legged on the end of the bed with a smile on her face.

  “You guys are heavy sleepers, huh?” she asks, unfolding her legs and standing with a stretch. Her eyes slide sideways, and her shoulders stiffen, shrugging up around her ears. “So, listen, thanks for helping me last night and everything. I know I wouldn’t have survived without you.” She coughs and turns to Lee. “Can you tell me what the deal is with the matches though?”

  Lee winces, scrubbing her hand across her face and wishing she could magic herself out of the whole situation. But she has already established that won’t work.

  “I thought it was part of your reading,” she says, dropping her hands to her side and looking Rebecca in the eye, “but then I realised they were actually just yours.” She explains about finding the matches, and the luck they seemed to have, and how everything went wrong.

  Rebecca listens without interrupting, her eyes wide. When Lee finishes, she turns the matchbook over in her hands, studying it.

  “My grandma gave them to me,” she says. “She said something about them being good luck, but I never wanted to use them. They were a keepsake.” She sighs. “I’m bloody glad you did though, or else I can guess how last night would have ended. I doubt that’s what she meant them to be used for, but I dare say she’d approve, given the circumstances.”

  Lee drums her fingers on the mattress, glancing at Jo and waiting for a nod before she continues. “That’s the thing, actually,” she says, hoping against hope she’s right and the first match wasn’t a fluke, “I think the luck brought you something else, too. Do you have your tarot cards on you?”

  Rebecca’s brows draw together, but she reaches into her coat pocket and draws out the velvet bag. “Do you want another reading?” She grins. “I could probably give you a freebie, considering the circumstances. Saving my life is definitel
y cause for a perk or two.”

  Lee laughs. “Nah, it’s not that. Can we see them?”

  Rebecca slides the cards free and spreads them, face up, on the bed. Jo hums in interest, and she walks across the room to study them.

  “You painted these?”

  Rebecca nods, glancing between them with growing confusion. Lee can’t contain her smile.

  She lets Jo explain the project, her enthusiasm taking over until she is all bright eyes and emphatic gestures. It’s mesmerising, and not only to Lee. Rebecca is hanging on every word, intrigued at first and then more animated as Jo discusses how to pair her up with an artist in London for an exhibit.

  By the time they check out of the room, there is no longer any doubt in Lee’s mind that Rebecca’s luck held true. Nonetheless, she pulls Rebecca aside while Jo is handing over the keys.

  “I’m really, really sorry I used up your luck,” she says, breathless as she forces herself to ignore the swirl of guilt in her stomach and make eye contact.

  Rebecca blinks, jaw slack for several seconds, but when she smiles it is blinding. “God, don’t worry about it, man. I was never going to use the matches, so the luck would have been wasted. And you saved my life!” She nods towards Jo, who is deep in conversation with the attendant about the damage caused by the blizzard. “Not to mention this new project could open a lot of doors.”

  Lee hums in reluctant agreement. Her skin still prickles with embarrassment, but at least Rebecca seems genuinely happy.

  “Oh!” Rebecca turns back to her, eyes wide. “I nearly forgot.”

  She fumbles in her pocket for several seconds before drawing out a familiar square of cardboard.

  Rebecca’s voice lowers to a hushed whisper as she hands the matchbook to Lee. “Look what happened overnight.”

  Curious, Lee takes the matchbook and holds it up to the light. It is as pristine as ever, still shimmering in the light. She lifts the flap and nearly drops the whole thing in surprise when she sees the new markings etched into the back of the book. Lee runs her fingers across the lines, marvelling at the indentations that appear to have been burnt into the cardboard.

  “My heart embraces yours,” Lee reads.