Stuck With My Christmas Crush (Sweet Christmas Kisses)

7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Jason

M y plan to release the fairy back into the wild fell flat at the radio announcement of the incoming blizzard. The DJ was fizzy with delight as he said the words ‘code red’ as if he was announcing a prize giveaway. Anyway. It’s fine. What are my choices? The window of opportunity to, Option A, get the ancient VW started so Charlie could drive away to where she came from; or, Option B, to drive her to wherever she wanted to go - has slammed shut with a resounding bang .

I was fully prepared to take her to her boyfriend’s place. Family. Her downtown apartment. I don’t know. Somewhere away from here. Now, it seems, we are stuck here to wait out the storm together. It’s a good thing I stopped by the supermarket on the way back from Meredith’s. I’m pretty sure we have enough supplies for two or three days, if it comes to that.

As I slowly drive through the gate, the sleet has turned to snow. My windshield wipers slosh from side to side at double speed but fail to clear the snow build-up fast enough. I park close to the gatehouse, cut the engine, and jump out. I wave at Charlie, although her windshield and windows are almost completely covered in snow. I’m not sure how much she can see so I tap the VW roof as I stride to the gate, push it shut, and secure the chain which is icy to touch. The wind gusts and throws the snow around. It stings my face, and my fingers are numb with cold. Charlie is at the front door waiting for me, hopping from one foot to the other.

“It’s not locked. Go on in,” I tell her, surprised that she’s still outside in the freezing porch.

“After you,” she yells above the din of the storm. “Rocko might eat me. ”

Rocko is in the hall to greet us. He pushes his head into my hand and leans against my legs. Charlie takes off the rain jacket.

“He’s not going to eat you. He might lick you to death.” I take the rain jacket from her and shake it outside before hanging it up. “It might be different if you were trying to break in. Uninvited. But he knows you’re my guest, so you’re safe.”

Charlie unties the oversized hiking boots and kicks them off. I peel out of my rain jacket, shake it, then hang it on the coat rack too. I take off my boots. The storm rages outside furiously rattling the doors and windows.

“I had no idea the storm would come in so fast and fierce,” says Charlie heading for the wood stove to warm her hands.

“It’s frightening, alright. But we’re safe now.” I bend down to open the stove door and place a large log inside.

“Yeah, we’re safe until the roof blows off,” Charlie says rubbing her hands together and stamping her feet.

“You’re right but this little house is solid, and we’re sheltered behind the wall. So, unless a tree falls on us, we’ll be okay.”

“Ha! You’re so casual about it.”

“I don’t think it’s something to worry about. Think about it. How many storms have blown through here since this place was built around one hundred and fifty years ago? It’s still standing. We’ll be okay.” It’s important to keep calm. I hope I have reassured my guest of our safety as I close the door and straighten up. “We have enough dry wood, I think, and electric heaters.” I stand beside Charlie and warm my hands too. “I’m pretty sure I bought candles and new batteries for the flashlights. I’ll go check.”

I leave Charlie at the fireside and find batteries, three flashlights, and box of candles, a lighter, and a box of matches in one of the kitchen cupboards. I leave them on the kitchen countertop, then I come back to the living room.

“How are you? Not too wet?” I ask Charlie whose cheeks are glowing pink. “Are you cold?”

“No. I’m okay although I could change the track pants, if you have another pair?” she says holding the wet fabric out from her legs on either side. They look like elephant ears. “The rest of me is dry as a bone. That’s a good rain jacket you have there.”

“Thanks, I know.”

“Better than fake fur any day.” Charlie laughs as I walk past her to my room to find another pair of track pants. When I come back, she takes the folded dry pants from me as if they are sacred and says, “Thanks for lending me the clothes. I’ll return them when I check in to one of the rooms. I guess there will be a robe for me or something warm I can put on.”

“Sorry. What?”

“The hotel.” Charlie looks at me, puzzled. “That is what the sign says.” She points out of the window toward the big old house. “I’ll stay at the hotel tonight. One of the rooms? I hope they have a vacancy for me. I didn’t see any other cars so, maybe they’re not booked out.” She smiles at me with hopeful naivety. It takes me a beat to process what she is talking about.

“Oh, yes. Well, it was a hotel. And it probably will be again. But right now, it’s closed.”

“What? Oh, no. It’s closed? I was hoping for a place to stay.” Charlie’s face is panicked. “This is terrible.” She starts pacing. “Where am I going to sleep?”

“Don’t worry. Um. Look. It’s not ideal, I know,” I say keeping my voice calm and even. “But you can stay here tonight.”

Charlie looks straight at me, breathing heavily. “Are you sure? I mean…” She begins pacing again. “Maybe there’s someone at the hotel who could let me in and…”

“There’s no one there.”

“But you’re the caretaker? Security guard? Gardener?”

“Charlie. I own this place. ”

“Oh.” Charlie laughs and shakes her head. “There I was thinking you were the gatekeeper or whatever. Ha. Funny me.” She flops down on the couch still laughing and shaking her head, forgetting about her wet track pants, but clutching the dry ones to her chest. “I could have been in serious trouble there. If you hadn’t come to my rescue, I would be dead. Frozen solid in my car for Christmas. Oh my. That’s awful.”

“Charlie. It’s fine. You’re safe here. Don’t worry about anything. If you need something, just say. Um, otherwise, you should put on those dry pants.”

Charlie doesn’t seem to be listening. “Jason.”

“Yup.”

“You saved my life.”

“All in a day’s work ma’am.” I head out to my room and shout back, “I’m going to take a shower. But please... make yourself at home.” I grab a change of clothes and a fresh towel from the closet. “I don’t have much but, you know, it’s for sharing.”

“Jason.” Charlie’s voice is small and timid. I see her from my room standing in the middle of the lounge, looking tiny in the multiple layers of my clothes. I pause in the doorway. “I don’t know what I would have done, if you weren’t here. It’s kind of hit me…” Her eyes are wide. “It could have been very very bad.”

“Yes. But it’s not.” I lean against the doorframe with the towel around my neck. “Charlie. You are fine. I am fine. The storm is going to blow through and then…” I try to assure my accidental guest. “Well, we’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah.”

I turn to leave, then Charlie says, “Jason.”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Charlie.” The enormity of the situation has obviously just hit. I imagine Charlie is feeling suddenly vulnerable and helpless. It happens to people who experience trauma. The best thing to do is to offer some distraction. So, I say, “Hey, maybe check your phone. It’ll be dry enough to plug into the charger now.” She moves toward the arm of the chair and lifts her phone, then smiles at me, then looks across at the charger plugged into the wall socket.

“Yep. I’ll do that.”