by Ellie Hall
After the rest of the group takes their seats, Lumi boards the bus, a clipboard in her hands. “Do we have everyone?”
“Barbie and Georgia aren’t here,” the Nordic studies professor says from the back of the bus.
“Oh, isn’t that a shame,” I mutter under my breath.
“They must be running late. We’ll give them a few minutes,” Lumi says pleasantly.
“You snooze, you lose, don’t you think?” I say to Max.
“You’re one to talk,” he says to me. “The only reason you made the bus on time is because I banged on your door.”
I lean over and say quietly, “Well, you’re the one who wants to avoid Barbie, not me. I would think you’d be happy if we left her behind.”
Max shrugs. “Doesn’t matter to me.”
“If they don’t show, then we don’t have to pretend to be a couple.”
“That’s not the deal we made.”
As Max grabs my hand and presses it to his lips, the retired couple says something about young love. I snatch my hand away.
Christopher yells from the back of the bus, “When are we going to see the huskies?” The other kids chime in, “Huskies, huskies, huskies!”
Lumi furrows her brow, then nods to the driver. As he puts the bus in gear, I see Barbie and Georgia running up.
As they board, Georgia apologizes to the group. “Sorry we’re late. Barbie couldn’t find her cell phone.”
Barbie doesn’t seem apologetic at all. She rests her hand on Max’s shoulder and smiles at him. “I needed my phone to take pictures. You understand, don’t you?”
Lumi motions to the rear of the bus. “Please take your seats.”
Georgia makes her way down the aisle, but Barbie looks like she wants to sit on Max’s lap, not with her friend.
“Your seat,” Lumi says impatiently.
This time Barbie gets the hint, and we finally depart.
When we get to our destination, the sound of dogs howling greets us. “They’re excited you’re here,” Lumi says, before introducing us to the owners of the dog park—Timo and his wife, Eevi.
“We have one hundred and seven dogs here. Mostly Siberian huskies, but we also have Alaskan huskies, and Alaskan malamutes,” Timo says. “These are hardy working dogs who can withstand cold and they love nothing more than to run.”
While Timo tells us about this history of dog sledding in Finland, I can’t help but smile at Barbie.
No, it’s not because I’ve suddenly become fond of the girl. It’s because she’s wearing the most ridiculous outfit—a tight low-cut top (perfect for showing off her considerable assets), a thin down vest (left unzipped), ripped jeans (perfect for getting frostbite on her exposed skin), and high-heeled shoes (awesome for walking through the snow). Her only concession to the weather is a pair of gloves.
As Barbie wraps her arms around herself, shivering, Timo shakes his head. He says something to his wife, who rushes off. A few minutes later, Eevi returns with a pair of boots and a florescent orange snowsuit. She offers them to Barbie. The redhead scowls, but the cold must be getting to her because she dons the outfit.
When Max takes a picture of Barbie, she shrieks. “Delete that. I look awful.”
“You look fine,” he says.
Trust me, she doesn’t look fine. The snowsuit is way too big for her and the orange color clashes with her hair. The only thing that looks cute are the embroidered felt boots. I wouldn’t mind having a pair myself.
Barbie takes Max’s comment as encouragement. “Do you really think so?”
I roll my eyes as she makes her way over to us. I think she’s trying to do some sort of sexy sashay sort of walk. Instead, she looks like a demented pumpkin in her over-sized snowsuit as she shuffles through the snow.
“Uh, sure,” Max says, inching backwards.
“Really?” she coos, continuing to shuffle toward him.
Enough already. I step in between the advancing pumpkin and Max. “Guys, pay attention. Timo is explaining what we’re going to do.”
Barbie looks miffed. Max shoots me a grateful glance.
Timo points at a wooden sled. “One person will stand at the back and steer. The other person will ride. We will stop halfway around the course so that you can switch places if you want. Everyone will go slow at first until you get the hang of steering, then we’ll speed up.”
Eevi assigns everyone a sled. Max and I are shown to the one at the rear.
“They’re so cute.” I bend down to pet the enthusiastic dogs who will be pulling our sled.
“The lead dog’s name is Into,” Eevi says. “It means ‘eagerness.’”
Max laughs. “Seems appropriate. He seems eager to get going.”
After Eevi shows us how to operate the sled, Max says to me, “Ladies, first.”
“First for what? Driving or sitting?”
“Your choice.”
“I’ll drive,” I say. “How hard can it be?”
The dogs are anxious to get going, especially Into, and it’s only the fact that the sled is tied to a post that we don’t just tear off across the snow.
Timo gives the signal and we take off. He’s driving the lead sled, with Christopher and his mom snuggled under blankets in the front. Barbie and Georgia are in the next sled. Fortunately, three other sleds are between Barbie and us because otherwise I might risk being blinded by her orange snowsuit.
After a few minutes, I start to get the hang of steering the sled. Timo turns his head to survey the sleds behind him, then nods approvingly. He picks up speed and the rest of us follow suit. Gliding through the snow on a sled being pulled by dogs is an absolutely exhilarating feeling.
When Max twists his head and grins at me, I know he feels exactly the same way. “You’re a natural,” he says, holding up his phone to film me.
“The dogs make it easy,” I say. “They’re used to dealing with tourists like us. They’re only pretending we’re in charge.”
“Hey, what’s going on?” Max asks as our sled jerks to the left. “You’re getting awfully close to the edge of the track.”
“It isn’t me,” I say, trying to steer the sled back on course.
Into barks insistently, pulling the sled further and further to the left. Then he suddenly comes to a halt. Frightened our sled is going to crash into the dogs, I frantically press the brake, trying to slow down our forward momentum. The other dogs yelp, and get tangled up in each other. I gasp as the sled swerves up the embankment of snow, then tips over, causing Max and I to spill to the ground.
“Are you okay?” we both ask at the same time, our faces inches away from each other. Then we smile as we both say “fine” in unison.
I should feel cold lying in the snow, but I don’t. The way Max is looking at me is making me feel like I’m melting from the inside out. My skin is burning, and it’s not because of the bright sun. Why is this man having this effect on me? If I lay here much longer, I’m afraid the snow will turn into a puddle of water from my body heat.
“We should check on the dogs,” Max says after a beat.
As he helps me to my feet, I giggle. “I think I know why we stopped. Someone was eager to take a bathroom break.”
Into finishes his business, then looks at us like we’re supposed to know what to do next.
Max scratches his chin. “Do you see the others?”
“No, they’ve gone around that bend. I wonder if they even know we aren’t behind them?”
“Well, I guess we should try to untangle these guys,” Max suggests.
Have you ever tried to untangle five squirming dogs? It’s not easy. In their excitement, they keep running around in circles, tangling themselves up even more. My foot gets caught up in one of the leads, and I end up back on the ground, this time, not next to Max, but instead with an enthusiastic dog kissing my face.
Max grins. “I think you’re getting a husky hug.”
After he convinces the dog to get off me and untangles the lead wrapped ar
ound my ankle, I stretch out my arms and legs and make a snow angel.
“Having fun?” Max asks me.
“I grew up in southern California,” I stand and wipe off my pants. “We never got up to the mountains to see the snow so I never got a chance to make snow angels or have snowball fights when I was a kid.”
“So, you’re making up for lost time?”
“Uh-huh. You should try it.”
“Help me with the dogs, then I will.”
After we get the dogs organized, I hold onto them firmly while Max rights the sled. I nod over at the snow bank. “Go on.”
The mischievous look on Max’s face as he plops backwards reminds me of Christopher. I love how Max doesn’t care how silly he looks as he spreads his arms and legs. My ex, Carl, would have never done anything like this. One time, I tried to get him to go on the merry-go-round at the local playground and he scoffed. “Those are for children, Zoe.”
It wasn’t long after that I broke up with him. Who wants to be with a guy who thinks merry-go-rounds are just for kids?
“Earth to Zoe,” Max says, interrupting my thoughts.
“Do you like merry-go-rounds?” I ask him.
“Who doesn’t? Although, the monkey bars are my favorite.”
I feel something bubble up inside me, something I can’t quite place. Quickly averting my eyes, I look down and compare our angels. We look cute in the snow, side by side. Then I shake my head. But in real life, we’re a complete mismatch.
“We should probably head back,” I say. “Why don’t you drive this time?”
Thankfully, we make it back to the dog park without any further incident. Timo checks to make sure the dogs and sled are okay, then tells us to join the rest of the group at the kennels to see the puppies.
Despite how utterly adorable the pups are, I feel uncomfortable around Max. I think he feels the same way. Something happened during our dog sled ride, something neither of us wanted. The rest of our time at the dog park is awkward and the ride back to the hotel is subdued.
When we get to the lobby, I head to my room. As I rush up the stairs, I turn, half-expecting to see Max following me. It bothers me that I’m disappointed he’s not. Is that because I want the chance to slam the door in his face again? Or is it because I want to kiss him again?
I feel better after a nap. All those feelings about Max were probably due to being at Santa’s Village. It’s Christmas-time. I’m missing my family and I’m sublimating my feelings onto Max. Or something like that. It’s been a long time since my Psych 101 course in college.
I bundle up in my coffee-stained parka, wrap my mint-green scarf around my neck, and grab my matching mittens and hat. It’s going to be cold at the Arctic Circle crossing ceremony. I can hardly wait to see if Barbie opts for high heels and ripped jeans again.
When I reach the meeting point outside a cafe, Max says, “You’re late again.”
Yep, we’re back to our usual routine. I pull my phone out of my pocket and hold it up to him. “I’m exactly three minutes late. Three.”
“Impressive. You can count to three. And you didn’t even have to take off your mittens to use your fingers.”
This is why I don’t like this man—he’s downright rude to me. That’s how I know he’s not my type whatsoever. The man is a natural smooth-talking flirt, constantly handing out compliments. All the ladies in the group just love him. Especially Barbie. I wonder why I never get the same treatment.
Lumi tries to get everyone’s attention. When Barbie and Georgia finally get the hint and stop having a conversation about which of their professors is the cutest, Lumi points at a series of snow-covered pillars. Each one is topped with a lantern and they’re all connected by a string of Christmas lights. “This line marks the southernmost latitude where the sun can stay below or above the horizon for twenty-four hours. In the summer, we call this the Midnight Sun, and in the winter, it is referred to as the Polar Night.”
Lumi stretches her arms out. “I would like all of you to line up on the southern side. Now close your eyes and, on the count of three, step forward.”
We all follow Lumi’s instructions. When we open our eyes, she claps her hands. “Congratulations, you have now all officially crossed the Arctic Circle.”
I glance to my right to smile at Max—after all, we’re still pretending that we’re a couple—but realize he isn’t there. Chewing on my bottom lip, I look around for him, finally spotting him taking pictures of the group.
When he finishes he walks toward me. “I got some great shots of you. Did you know that when you close your eyes, you wrinkle your nose?”
As he shows the pictures to me, I feel myself shivering.
“Are you cold, babe?” Max asks, playing up the role of the solicitous boyfriend to the hilt. “Why don’t I get us some hot chocolate?”
I give him my best adoring gaze. “That would be great. Thanks, babe.”
While Max goes into the cafe to get our beverages, Lumi approaches with one of Santa's elves. When the elf hands me a certificate embossed with a red wax stamp, Lumi says, “This is the proof of your crossing.”
“What about Max?” I say. “Doesn’t he get a certificate?”
“He was taking pictures when we did the official crossing, but I’m sure we can arrange something,” Lumi says.
I turn when I hear Barbie’s voice behind me. “I can do the crossing with him again. I wouldn’t want him to have to do it alone.”
What are we in high school? Is this like not being able to go to the bathroom by yourself?
“Uh, he’s a big boy,” I say. “I think Max can walk across a line without an escort.”
“What’s going on?” Max asks as he walks up to us.
“Oh you brought hot chocolate,” Barbie says. “How sweet.”
“I think that’s for me,” I say, taking both cups from him.
Barbie shrugs, then grabs Max’s hand. “Come on, you need to do the crossing to get your certificate.”
I try to take a sip from one of the cups, but it’s too hot. These cups must have incredible insulation—it’s freezing out here. You would have thought the short walk from the cafe to here would have cooled them down.
Setting both cups down on a bench, I remove my mittens so that I can pry the lid off one of them. I blow on the hot chocolate for a moment, then take a sip. Then I groan with pleasure. There’s no better combination than rich dark chocolate and peppermint.
As I take another sip, Max walks back, a certificate in hand. He grabs the other cup from the bench. After he takes a drink, he says, “I think you got mine by mistake. I got a plain one for you because I know you hate anything with peppermint.”
My brow furrows. I want nothing more than to keep drinking the delicious minty hot chocolate in my hand. “Um, I already had some of this one. Guess I’ll have to suffer through drinking the rest.”
We stand quietly for a few minutes sipping on our hot chocolate and watching the people milling about. When a few kids start throwing snowballs, I laugh. “That’s what I missed out on as a kid. When I have children I want to live someplace with four seasons so they can experience the same thing.”
“Kids, huh?”
“Maybe, someday. How about you?”
“I don’t think it will happen.”
“Yeah, you’d have to settle down with one woman.”
Max turns to me and narrows his eyes. “That’s not why. But feel free to keep making assumptions. I’m going to go back to the hotel.”
As he walks away, he shouts over his shoulder, playing to the crowd, “Don’t stay out here too late, babe. You’ll freeze to death.”
“I’ll be in soon, babe,” I say cheerfully. Two can play this game.
4
Ice, Ice, Baby
When I walk into the bar at the ice hotel the next evening, my breathing becomes shallow and my heart rate starts to increase. Before you ask, it’s not because Max manages to make one of those goofy hats with dog ear-fl
aps look sexy. No, the reason for my physical reaction is because this building is made entirely out of water.
Let’s think about this for a moment, shall we? Buildings should be made out of sturdy materials, like brick, wood, or steel, not out of liquids. Liquids are, well, liquidy. Making a building out of something you can pour out of a glass is just nuts.
It’s bad enough we’re having drinks and dinner at a hotel made of ice, but I also have to spend the night here. What if it melts while I’m sleeping?
“Everyone, gather around,” Lumi says, interrupting my thoughts about waking up in the middle of a large puddle. “I hope you all had fun today ice fishing.”
I glance over at Max. He’s grinning ear to ear, still thrilled about the fish he caught. I had wisely decided not to participate in the ice fishing—ice has a nasty habit of cracking, you know. Instead, I attended a workshop where we learned how to make himmeli, traditional Finnish Christmas ornaments made out of straw. Spending time apart from Max had been a good thing, especially how we had left things the previous night.
“Those of you who opted to stay overnight here, please come see me after dinner for an orientation session.” Lumi chuckles. “Sleeping in an ice hotel is a little different from a regular hotel.”
I take a deep breath and then exhale slowly, trying to calm my nerves. I definitely didn’t opt to stay here. It’s part of my assignment. I’ve had to do some crazy things in my time, but I gotta say, staying in an ice hotel tops the list.
Max walks over and hands me a shot glass. “What are you thinking about?”
“Global warming. I hope it doesn’t happen tonight.”
Max gives me a funny look. “You realize that’s now how it works, right?”
“Doesn’t staying here freak you out?” I ask.
“No, it’ll be fun.” He cocks his head to one side. “What’s going on?”