Abi and the Boy She Loves

by Kelsie Stelting

“Yes. I’m driving.”

  We were going to take both of our cars home, but I didn’t mind leaving mine here. I wouldn’t be going anywhere without Jon anyway.

  “I just need to get my bags,” I said. “They’re already packed.”

  “Hold on.” He got his phone out, sending a text. “One of the guys on the team will come help.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, already asked. Just need to tell them that we’re ready.”

  I smiled up at him. “And you said you didn’t have any friends.”

  “Enough about me,” he said. “Let’s get you home.”

  We couldn’t get there soon enough.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Marta treated us to a homecoming feast. Food just like from my first dinner there covered the table, bringing with it the most delicious smells. This topped the classics line every. Single. Time.

  There was an extra place setting at the table now that Jorge had become a fixture. From the way Grandma looked at him—and he at her—he wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.

  We usually didn’t pray at the table, but Marta insisted on blessing the food this time.

  I folded my hands in front of me and peeked under my lashes at the others who had their heads bowed and eyes closed.

  Okay, maybe I should stop being a creep and close my eyes too.

  “Dear God,” Marta said. “Thank you for bringing our children home safe and sound. Thank you for giving them a successful first semester of college, in running and academics, and thank you for the wonderful people around this table. Amen.”

  When I opened my eyes, Marta’s were shining. It made me realize we’d all been through a lot. They’d said goodbye to their only child. Had nearly lost me. But we’d all come out on the other side of it, together.

  “So, what’s the agenda for tomorrow?” Grandma asked.

  Glen pulled a folded piece of paper from his back pocket. “Glad you asked.” He slid his glasses down his nose and read each item on the itinerary. Including a six in the morning departure.

  At our facial expressions, he said, “Don’t worry. You’ll have plenty of chances to sleep in while we’re there.”

  Good. Getting up that early was for the birds. I knew because I’d been doing it all semester for track practice. I needed a break.

  “Did we decide which cars we’re taking?” Grandma asked.

  Glen tucked the paper back into his pocket. “We can take ours and Jon’s. I figured the lovebirds—the younger ones—would want to share some time together and the four of us can take the SUV.”

  “Perfect,” Grandma said.

  Conversation stalled as we dished up our food and got lost in how good it was. Or maybe that was just me. Because I couldn’t speak through the heaven in my mouth. I needed to be careful or I would be right back to overeating and relying on food for comfort.

  When Jon cleared his plate, he said, “If it’s alright with you, Abi and I are going to see our friends before we have to leave tomorrow.”

  Our friends. My heart warmed.

  “Of course,” Marta said. “We’ll get the dishes.”

  Grandma looked at me. “Will you be back tonight?”

  I nodded. “Don’t wait up, though.”

  We escaped to the car, and the second we got in, Jon fired it up. I flipped the heater to full blast, and he gave me an exasperated eye-roll.

  “You knew this about me,” I said, buckling in.

  “I know, I know.” He mimicked my voice. “‘I don’t want to waste any hot air.’”

  “To be fair”—I nudged him—“there’s plenty coming from you.”

  “Hardy har har.” He put the car in gear and started toward Stormy’s house.

  “Who all’s going to be there?” I asked.

  “When I talked to Frank, he said the whole crew should be there.”

  “You and Frank are talking a lot,” I commented.

  He shrugged. “I think we have more in common than I originally thought.”

  I didn’t ask what he thought they had in common. I was just glad he had someone to go to.

  “Oh,” I said, “I forgot to ask. How did your rewrite go?”

  “Rewrite?”

  “Of the personality assignment. From that as—”

  “Professor?” he finished. “Don’t ask.”

  “That bad?”

  “Well, if you’re ready to shove that D somewhere...”

  I raised my eyebrows. “You still got a D?”

  “Yep,” he said flatly. “D plus, actually. So let’s talk about something else.”

  “We can listen to music,” I suggested, and at his nod, I turned up the radio. It didn’t matter what was playing. Jon clearly wasn’t in the mood to talk, and I understood. I just didn’t understand his professor. I wanted to read the paper, but that seemed as realistic right now as Grandma having a love child with Jorge and eloping to Mexico. Although, that would make for some great awkward family photos...

  We arrived at Stormy’s, and after we all greeted each other, she pulled the girls into the nursery to show us around.

  My heart melted at the sweet set-up. There was the crib I’d bought for her, soft gray starry decorations, and a large framed quote hanging above the crib. You are my sun, my moon, and all of my stars. EE Cummings.

  “It’s beautiful,” Skye breathed.

  I nodded in agreement, speechless.

  Macy held Stormy in a side-armed hug. “Your baby is so lucky to have you.”

  Stormy circled her stomach in a protective way. I wondered if the others knew about her pre-eclampsia. Had she told them? Had Frank?

  Stormy settled into the rocking chair. “Well, I did want to show you all, but honestly, I need some girl time. Frank is driving me nuts.”

  I sat down on the chevron rug and rested my back against the crib. “What’s going on?”

  Skye dropped down beside me, and Macy and Leanne leaned against the opposite wall. With Stormy in the chair, it almost looked like story time.

  She rolled her eyes and pulled her legs up to sit cross-legged. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it’s almost like he’s too nice. He won’t let me do anything for myself!”

  I laughed. “Shouldn’t you be happy someone’s getting you pickles and ice cream?”

  Skye nudged me. “That’s just a myth. My sister only wanted cheese enchiladas.”

  “Oh no,” Stormy said. “I want it all. Everything. I’m like a vacuum cleaner.” She made a sucking sound, and I laughed.

  Leanne chuckled. “Isn’t that what got you pregnant?”

  Macy giggled with her.

  Stormy pretended to be mad. “Take an anatomy lesson. That’s the safe way.”

  I pretended to gag myself.

  Skye’s cheeks got red.

  “New subject,” Macy said. “Where’s Michele? Parents wouldn’t let her out?”

  Stormy cringed. “I don’t think things are going so well between her and Freckles.”

  I leaned forward. “What?”

  Stormy shrugged. “I think she’s being too possessive and he’s getting tired of it.”

  Leanne raised her eyebrows. “I thought he wasn’t fazed by anything.”

  Stormy turned up one corner of her mouth. “Guess she found his button.”

  Macy cracked up laughing.

  Stormy grabbed a pillow and threw it at her. “You have exactly five months to grow up.” Then her expression sobered. “At least, I do.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  I’d meant to talk to Jon on the way to Red River, but mostly, I slept. Whether it was the early hour, staying out the night before, or the warm air blowing over my face, I couldn’t keep my eyes open. When I finally woke up, we were driving through a grassy basin, mountains rising on all sides of us.

  I adjusted my seat up and stared out the window to get a better look. “It’s beautiful.”

  “I know,” Jon said. “I love it here.”

  I grinned o
ver at him, drinking in his beautiful green eyes as they took in the landscape. I allowed myself to imagine us, years in the future, going on a trip to the mountains with our own children. I wanted this to be a tradition we kept forever.

  The road narrowed as we got closer to the mountain and began the winding path to the top. Signs for Red River passed, along with miles and miles of forest and snow.

  “They’ve been getting tons of snow this winter,” Jon said. “Should be a good time to learn. If you’re still insisting on it.”

  I gave him a sideways look. “I’m not insisting. I’m going to.”

  He barely bit back a smile, instead pretending to be exasperated. “But when we get there, Mom and Dad are going to go to their favorite place to eat. Eleanor and Jorge will go with them. We’re going to say we’re too tired.”

  “But I just slept for, like, five hours.”

  “We’re going to say we’re too tired.” He raised his eyebrows and gave me an exaggerated wink.

  “Ah.” My cheeks reddened as I caught his drift. “Now that you mention it, I am feeling sleepy.” I let out a fake yawn.

  “That’s the spirit.”

  He reached over and held my hand. “Really, I’m excited to spend some time just the two of us. No responsibilities.”

  “It’s long overdue,” I agreed.

  He followed his parents’ car into the driveway of a large cabin with expansive glass windows facing the mountains.

  I stared at it, open-mouthed. “What happened to the bed/shower test?” I started singing their jingle. It was still burned into my brain from state cross-country all those months ago.

  He chuckled as he put his car into park. “This is the one time a year we splurge.”

  As we got out, I stuck my hands in my pockets to guard them from the wind. The sun was shining, though, even with all the snow. It was nice.

  Marta stood in front of the cabin and spread her arms. “This is it.”

  Glen walked toward the front door and reached into the mailbox, retrieving a set of keys. “Let us show you around.”

  They gave us a tour of the cabin, complete with large-screen televisions, wide beds with pine frames, and an already crackling fireplace.

  “Is this heaven?” I asked.

  Glen laughed. “Pretty close. Elevation nine thousand feet.”

  Marta nodded. “So, that means we all need to drink water, get plenty of rest, and eat some good food.”

  “Exactly,” Glen agreed. “So, first on the agenda, T Bucks. They have the best food in town, and they even have a fireplace in the middle of the restaurant.”

  It sounded great, but I made my best bleary eyes and said, “I’m so tired. Would it be alright if I passed?”

  “Me too,” Jon said, yawning very convincingly. “She slept most of the way, and I didn’t get a break.”

  “You could have stopped to take a break.” Marta looked concerned. “Want us to bring you something back?”

  “Nah,” Jon said. “I’ll take her to T Bucks after we get a little rest.”

  They agreed to leave, on the condition we both drank a bottle of water before going to our separate rooms.

  After they walked out the door, Jon gave me an evil grin. “Your place or mine?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Breakfast is ready!” Marta called from the kitchen.

  I blinked my eyes open groggily, but the smell of eggs and meat perked me right up. Still, I grabbed my toiletries to freshen up before going to the kitchen. I opened my bedroom door and walked right into Jon. The air carried a chill, but his body was warm, covered in sweatpants and a hoodie, the socks I bought him for Christmas the year before.

  “I like your socks,” I said.

  He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. “I like you.”

  I covered my mouth with one of my hands. “You’ll like me less when you smell my morning breath.”

  He lowered his voice and pulled my hand away. “You act like I haven’t smelled it while you were snoring away.”

  My cheeks flushed, and I looked down, but he lifted my chin up and pressed the lightest of kisses to my lips. “That’s better,” he mumbled.

  I smiled against his kiss. “It is a nice way to wake up. Breakfast and kisses.”

  “Come on,” he said, taking my hand. “Let’s grab some grub.”

  I held up my bag of toiletries. “Just because you don’t care how bad I smell doesn’t mean the others won’t.”

  Smiling, he shook his head. “See you out there.”

  I watched him walk away for longer than I should have before continuing to the bathroom. With the door shut behind me and Jon’s...assets out of sight, I realized this was probably the one place in the cabin that wasn’t completely updated, with a pink shell sink and brass fixtures.

  I kind of felt more at home in this bathroom.

  What did that say about me?

  I decided not to think about it and went about brushing my teeth and washing my face, then tying my hair back in a set of braids. I wanted to look cute snowboarding. Snowy kisses and pictures were a must.

  When I walked out to the kitchen, everyone was seated at the dining room table—it actually had more than enough room for everyone. Glen was in the early stages of a massive jigsaw puzzle, while Jorge worked on a weathered crossword book and Grandma and Marta eyed a map of the town, sipping coffee with steam pouring off the brown liquid.

  And then there was Jon. Stuffing his face with a breakfast burrito like he didn’t have a care in the world.

  I let out a giggle, to which he said, “What?” through a mouth full of food.

  Marta shook her head, feigning disappointment. “You have no shame.”

  He gulped down his bite. “Shame? What’s that?”

  Laughing, I took a burrito of my own, poured myself a mug of coffee, and sat down beside Jon. All this cold weather with the winter sun streaming through the windows just made me want to cuddle, but we had an adventure to get to.

  “When do you want to hit the slopes?” I asked.

  “‘Hit the slopes?’” Jon said. “You sound so official.”

  I used my coffee mug as a mask to hide my embarrassment. “I might have read a blog or two.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Watched a few YouTube videos.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Read a manual.” I set my cup down. “You know, the basics.”

  Grandma lifted her cup in a salute. “That’s my girl.”

  “You mean my girl,” Jon teased.

  Grandma winked at him. “Not until you’re married.”

  I nearly choked on my drink. I could have choked a second time because no one chimed in to shut down the idea. They just went about their breakfast like the idea of Jon and me being married was perfectly normal. Compatible with reality.

  “Deal,” Jon said. Apparently he was in on the conspiracy.

  I must have looked at him like he had a second head, because he said, “What? It’s not like I can fight her about it.”

  I wiped my expression. Or tried to, at least. “That’s not it.”

  Glen scrubbed his chin. “Nine letter word for something they need to get first? Anyone?”

  Jorge lifted a finger. “Education!”

  There it was. Finally.

  “We get it,” Jon said, sounding more disgruntled than playful. He turned to me. “You about ready?”

  “Yep.” I took a final bite of my burrito and a few more sips of my coffee on the way to the sink.

  Grandma looked up at us. “You two be safe out there. And wear a helmet. Both of you. There was a story in the news two nights ago of a kid who—”

  “I know, I know,” I rushed out, not needing to hear the gory details. “We’ll wear helmets.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Jon muttered.

  Grandma gave him her trademark stare down.

  Like she’d worked some kind of Jedi magic on him, Jon said, “We’ll wear helmets.”

&n
bsp; “Good boy,” she said.

  Marta added, “Abi, I put all of your snow gear in a bag by the door! You should both be set.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I can’t believe you got all that for me.”

  Glen gave a small nod toward Jorge. “We might have had a little help.”

  My mouth slackened. Retired Jorge had bought me brand-name winter gear without saying anything? I wanted to hug him, but...we weren’t at the hugging stage yet. We were barely past the awkward-greeting-because-you’re-dating-my-grandma stage.

  “Thank you.” I tried to put all the feeling I could into the phrase.

  Jorge carefully lettered in his crossword puzzle. “Nine letters, two words for you’re welcome.”

  I thought about it for a second. “No problem.”

  He looked up at me and winked. “Exactly, kid.”

  I smiled. “Really, thank you.”

  “Your grandmother would kill me if we let you get frostbitten.”

  “Please.” Grandma batted him with her hand. She looked like a silly schoolgirl. In love.

  Why did it put a dopey smile on my face?

  Jon took my hand. “Let’s go.”

  I followed him out the door, ready to get back into our very own love story.

  Chapter Eighteen

  He drove over the slippery roads to a ski rental place—the Sitzmark. They fitted me for a snowboard, asking all sorts of questions about my height and weight and whether I was “goofy” or not.

  Jon said of course I was, and I hit him before I even knew what it meant.

  Good thing he was wearing a helmet.

  We walked out of the shop, walking “goofy” in our snowboard boots that felt more like wooden clogs rising halfway up our calves.

  “How do people walk in these?” I asked.

  “They don’t,” Jon said. “You’re supposed to ride, bruh.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Now who’s been reading too many blogs?”

  Ignoring my question, he flipped a braid over my shoulder. “That’s a tubular look.”

  There wasn’t even enough space in my head for this level of eye-roll. “I’m pretty sure that’s a surfing term.”