by Amanda Tru
“Don’t you know, Gen?” he whispered back, his mouth turning up at the corners. “The messed-up Geneva is my very favorite.”
Then he kissed her slowly and beautifully. She felt raw and vulnerable, yet she drew comfort and strength from his lips. With her emotions so fragile, he could have pushed his advantage as the lines between big emotions can become very blurry. Geneva’s heart began to pound, and her body trembled in a way that had nothing to do with being cold. Just when she wanted him ever closer, he pulled away and stood to his feet, taking deep breaths of air.
With his eyes narrowed, he looked back at her in critical assessment. “If you’re going to stay messed-up Geneva for a while still, then I’ll need to head outside to take a run through the blizzard.”
Geneva laughed and patted the seat next to her invitingly. “What? The honeymoon suite a little much for you all of a sudden? You can sit back down. I promise to pretend I have it all together.”
Carter perched on the seat, looking at her in concern. “Gen, I was teasing. I never want you to pretend. Not with me. You’re really difficult to get to know. You never let anyone see what you are really feeling. I love that you let me see you fall apart and that you talked about your thoughts and struggles. The real you is who I’m most attracted to. That attraction apparently translates physically very easily and with way too much enjoyment.”
Geneva smiled softly, liking that she had an effect on him. “Thank you, Carter. For everything. I’ve been a Christian for a long time. At least, I’ve trusted Jesus for my salvation. But there’s this whole part of Christianity that is a lot more difficult for me, and I’m just now figuring out that I need the kind of faith that lets God have complete control of my life. You always seem to know just what to say to both encourage and challenge me. I appreciate that.”
Carter shook his head. “I’m no saint, Gen. Obviously. But thank you. No one is perfect. We’re all in process. Hopefully, I’m a better man than I was four years ago.”
He was saying something more than just his words. Gen knew it, but she couldn’t decipher exactly what it was. Was he admitting that he was wrong when their relationship collapsed four years ago? Geneva didn’t understand because the past few weeks had shown her that she was the one in the wrong. Just like Carter had said, she’d never let him in to see who she really was or involve him in her real struggles. When he’d said he didn’t like her, he meant he didn’t like the pretend Geneva, the one she showed the world. But what about the real one who didn’t have it all together—the one she was just now starting to understand herself?
Carter sighed and leaned back against the couch. “So, what do you want to do? It looks like we’ve got hours and hours to kill in a honeymoon suite, and no one available to marry us so we can make use of it.”
Geneva laughed, recognizing that he was in no way serious. “How about cards? I still have that deck we played with in L.A. Do you feel like rummy or spoons?”
“Sure. But rummy and spoons aren’t enough. We have hours to fill, and I don’t know nearly enough card games to make it through the day.”
Geneva shed the blanket and stood to retrieve the cards. Before she made it to her suitcase, the phone on the nightstand rang.
“Hello?” she answered.
“Hey, there. This is Ray at the front desk. I’ve got some guy here with a snowplow saying he’s supposed to give two doctors a ride somewhere. Is that you and your boyfriend? Your last name is Hutchins, right?”
Geneva’s breath caught. She didn’t know what was happening, but she wasn’t about to miss it by asking twenty questions. “Tell him we’ll be right there!”
She hung up the phone and turned to Carter. “Grab your suitcase and put your shoes on. Muttonchops says we have a ride!”
Geneva waited until she sat sandwiched between Carter and the snowplow driver and were well on their way toward the pass before she hesitantly voiced any questions. Fortunately, Carter had just gone with the flow, seeming to take at face value that a snowplow had magically appeared at their hotel to let them ride along on its trek up the mountains clearing snow. For Geneva’s part, she’d simply acted as if she were already familiar with the plan instead of walking blinding through the first door that presented itself, which in this case happened to be a very large, ugly snowplow.
We should be safe now, right? He can’t just drop us off in the middle of the mountains if he figures out there’s been a mistake?
“Um… so how did you find out that we needed a ride?” she ventured hesitantly.
So far, “Plowing Pete” had filled the time with a detailed monologue expounding on the virtues of his vehicle and the arduous job of snowplowing in general.
“As if you don’t know!” Pete laughed. “I don’t know who you two are, but you must have some pretty big britches to get the governor of the state to call my boss and ask to use his plows as a taxi service for two stranded doctors.”
“The governor?” Carter echoed in shock.
Poor Carter looked ridiculous with a mountain of a garbage sack perched on his lap. Though Pete showed them where to stow their suitcases, there hadn’t been room for Big Kitty and the protective black garbage sack Geneva had placed around her. Without complaint, Carter had enthroned the kitty-in-the-sack on his lap, holding it to wherever they were headed.
“Yep,” Pete said proudly. “I talked to him myself before I headed out. Nice guy. I guess he’d have to be to get my boss to agree. Giving people rides on a snowplow is against the rules. But, I suppose if the governor calls and asks, you make up the rules as you go along.”
Sydney.
She was the only one with enough clout to make this happen.
Geneva felt a rush of warmth, realizing that her younger sister had been tracking her and looking out for her in the same way that aggravated her so much before. Now she recognized that she’d done it for this very scenario. This was the day Sydney had referred to when she said she would be “there when you need me.” Sydney tracked her so that when Geneva was helplessly stuck, Sydney could come to her rescue.
Though cramped in the cab, snowplowing was rather fascinating, and there was something satisfying about seeing the snow mound in neat aisles as the huge shovel fearlessly attacked the glacier ahead of them. The effect was almost hypnotic, with the flying specks of snow falling in a curtain and Plowing Pete’s droning monologue in the background.
“Frosty. Come in, Frosty.”
Geneva jerked awake at the sound of Pete speaking into his radio, suddenly realizing she’d drifted off onto Carter’s shoulder.
“This is Snow Blower,” Pete continued. “We have two turtle doves needing special Christmas delivery. Do you copy?”
“Loud and clear, Snow Blower.” The radio crackled to life. “The partridge is on schedule and will be in position shortly.”
“Roger that. I’ll send the two turtle doves walking toward you while I make my turn to head back. Please confirm when you retrieve them at designated pear tree.”
The radio fell silent, and Carter ventured, “Um. Turtle doves, Partridge, Pear tree. We won’t be at this for twelve days, will we?”
“Nope. Just get out and walk about twenty-five yards up ahead. I need to make the turn back around, and the next snowplow is coming to meet up. By the time you get there, he should pull up, ready to make his turn and take you farther through the mountains.”
“Wait, you’re not taking us the whole way?” Geneva asked, not liking the idea of parting ways before they actually had another ride.
“No, we each have routes. This is the end of my route. I turn back around here and plow the other direction again. If one plow did the whole thing, then it would take forever, and the snow would pile up again before we even made it through.”
Geneva looked out the window nervously. “So, we’re just supposed to walk over there, and another snowplow will pick us up?”
“Yep. Hurry on out. I got a schedule to keep if we’re getting this pass open before Ch
ristmas. See where the plow lines meet? That’s the pear tree.”
“The pear tree?” Geneva asked.
Pete grinned, his teeth flashing amidst his bushy beard. “With time on your hands, you get a little creative.”
Carter opened the door and climbed out, grabbing their suitcases from where Pete had stowed them earlier. “Thanks, Pete. Merry Christmas!”
Geneva climbed out behind Carter, and they hurried to the side of the road, getting out of the way so Pete could maneuver the plow around.
Pete made the turn, and Geneva and Carter watched the plow disappear into the snow. It was a strange, lonely feeling to be left in a world of complete white. Utter silence descended, and even their footfalls were muffled by the white blanket. They could see nothing, neither where they’d come from nor where they were going.
Carter reached for her hand. “This is part of Sydney’s plan?”
“I would prefer if her connections could charter us a helicopter,” Geneva grumbled.
“Could be worse. Snowmobile, horse and wagon, sleigh, skis…”
His words drifted into the surrounding nothingness, and Geneva felt panic like claustrophobia creeping up around her. The only thing keeping her grounded was the pressure of Carter’s hand in hers.
It was too quiet. Her searching gaze longed for something to focus on, but the blank slate of snow offered nothing and left her disoriented.
Come on, Geneva. Keep it together. One foot in front of the other.
But what if you can’t even see where your foot is supposed to land?
Faith.
The thought brought comfort, chasing away the fear. With one hand awkwardly clasping both the handle of her suitcase and the sack full of Big Kitty and the other gripping Carter’s, she placed each footstep in faith, even though she had no idea where she was or where she was going. She had faith that someone would come to their rescue and that God was in charge of every footstep. She couldn’t trust her senses, but she trusted what she couldn’t see.
“I think we’re at the pear tree,” Carter announced.
Geneva looked down to see her feet right in the middle of two tracks headed in opposite directions.
She peered into the thick white clouds around them as they mixed with the snow already fallen. As if a mirage, she saw two lights blink and come slowly toward them. Soon, a low rumble broke the silence, and a large twin snowplow pulled up in front of them.
Carter reached up to open the door, and Geneva climbed aboard, dusting off the excess snow from her head and her feet.
With a sigh of relief, Geneva settled in beside Frosty, realizing that when following God, sometimes your journey had you soaring like eagles, and other times you rode snowplows. The challenge was to trust that, no matter where she found herself, God had the travel arrangements already covered.
The snowplow growled off down the road, leaving Carter and Geneva standing in a parking lot in front of a roadside diner.
“Do we get another snowplow?” Carter asked hopefully.
“I don’t know,” Geneva said, worriedly scanning the area. “The road isn’t closed down here, at least not yet.”
“I’m hungry. Let’s get something to eat in the diner while we figure out what to do next.”
Their relay of snowplows had ended here. Their chauffeur hadn’t said what they were supposed to do, just that this diner marked the end of the line.
They lugged their suitcase and bagged Big Kitty with them into the diner, found a table, and accepted menus. Ignoring the curious glances in the busy diner, Geneva placed Big Kitty on her own chair and folded the sack down both so she could breathe better and so her fellow diners didn’t think it strange to set a mysterious black garbage sack up to the table with her. Somehow a large white cat as a dinner companion seemed strangely more socially acceptable than an anonymous black garbage sack.
Geneva then took her own seat, but before she looked at the menu, she took out her phone and pressed to call Sydney. The phone rang four times, eventually going to voicemail.
Sighing, Geneva reluctantly picked up the menu.
Her phone beeped with a text.
SYDNEY: Working on it. Eat something. Call in a few.
While comforting, and yet still somewhat disconcerting, that Sydney knew exactly where they were, it was more disturbing to read that Sydney was “working on it.” That meant that she didn’t currently have a solution, that no other snowplow was scheduled to charge to their rescue, and that, for the moment, they were stranded.
“Is that Sydney who texted?” Carter asked, peering over his menu.
“Yes. She’s ‘working on it.’”
Carter grimaced. “Well, that’s not good, and yet it is. Today proves that if I need anyone in the world to work on a problem, then I should definitely choose Sydney.”
By Geneva’s calculations, they were still four to five hours away, and that was in good weather. It had taken them all day to get this far. With daylight rapidly dwindling, despair once again threatened. She’d begun to hope that maybe they would make it to Allie before Christmas. She knew Sydney was likely battling through Congress to get them there, but if their ride hadn’t already been dispatched, then chances were good they’d be here a while.
The waitress came for their order, and Geneva didn’t bother trying to talk herself into a salad. Instead, she echoed Carter’s order and intended to eat every bite of bacon burger and fries.
Looking around, Geneva guessed they weren’t the only people stranded at the diner. People congregated in every corner, and some leaned wearily against the walls.
“I guess we aren’t the only ones wanting to get home for Christmas,” she remarked.
Carter nodded, “All of these people are waiting until the road opens to get over the mountain. With as late as it is, it may not open tonight at all.”
Geneva’s phone vibrated from where she held it clenched in her hand. She answered before the first ring completed its task.
“Gen, I don’t have good answers for you right now,” Sydney’s voice hurriedly announced in response to her greeting. “The storm hasn’t yet reached Crossroads, but it’s coming. It’s making a tremendous impact on a massive portion of the west right now, and it’s supposed to be bad when it gets there in a few hours. Everyone is busy preparing, including law enforcement and all emergency personnel. Planes and helicopters are already grounded. I can’t take someone from where they might be needed and ask them to taxi you home. My current plan is to send Dad, but it will take him four to five hours to get there, and then you’ll have that same travel time back.”
Geneva groaned. She didn’t want her dad driving in potentially bad weather. If the storm they just came through was headed to Crossroads, then there was no way they’d make it before the “snowpacalyse” hit and no way they’d make it before Christmas tomorrow.
Gen looked at the darkening world outside and saw that snow had already started falling.
“I’m really sorry, Gen,” Sydney said. “I’m still trying to…”
Sydney’s words trailed off in Geneva’s mind with the opening of the diner’s front door. With a flurry of snow, a man stepped through, brushing off the flakes and shaking his head, almost like a dog parting with the water from a good drenching. His eyes took in the diner, and Geneva’s breath caught.
It couldn’t be…
“Sydney, don’t send Dad. I’ll call you back.”
She ended the call and stood to her feet, taking a step toward the bearded man.
Impossible. Surely she was seeing things.
She heard Carter’s voice from behind, “Gen, what…?” Then she heard him gasp and felt him come up beside her.
She took a few more steps. The man’s gaze lit on her.
“Jimmy?” she called.
Recognition flooded his features.
Carter recovered more quickly and rushed over to him. “Jimmy Drew, what are you doing here?” Carter unceremoniously pulled him to their table and pushed h
im into the chair opposite Big Kitty. Only then did Geneva realize Carter’s wisdom. Jimmy’s face was pale and lined with exhaustion. If he hadn’t sat down, it looked as if he would have certainly fallen.
Their food arrived, and Geneva asked the waitress if they could get one more burger and fries in a rush order. Then she took her own plate and put it in front of Jimmy. She didn’t even know why she did it. In her mind, this man had been the worst kind of father, and she had very little respect for him. Yet, he was Allie’s dad, and he looked like he needed the food more than she did.
Seeming to not even realize that Geneva had just sacrificed her own meal, he started munching on the fries as if on autopilot. “I have to see my little girl,” he finally choked out, emotion clogging his voice. “I can’t let her go without holding her one last time. After you left, I couldn’t take it. I tried to go on as if nothing happened, but I couldn’t do a blasted thing!” He looked up, and his gaze shone with honesty as he looked from Geneva to Carter. “After a couple of hours, I realized I can’t live with myself knowing that I didn’t go when she wanted and needed me.”
Geneva fought the sudden burning emotion. The moment felt so surreal. When she thought all hope was gone, and their mission had failed in every way, the answer to their prayers had literally walked through the front door.
“So, you took off for Crossroads and got caught in the storm?” Carter asked, putting two and two together
Jimmy nodded. “The road through the mountains was closed. I begged for them to let me through. I told them my little girl was dying. They finally decided to open the road briefly for four-wheel drive vehicles. They let my truck through, and I followed one of the snowplows here. When I made it, they once again started closing the road behind me. They allowed one line of vehicles through to follow the snowplows back the other direction, but that’s it for the night.”
Geneva looked around the room, noticing that the place was now near empty. She’d been so shocked that she hadn’t noticed the mass exodus immediately following Jimmy’s entrance.