LITMIR.BIZ

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stick my tongue out at him. I find his backpack in the bed, but nothing else. “I told you to bring your gifts for the tree.”

      He clears his throat and pulls me alongside him toward the passenger side of the truck. His eyes are on the oncoming traffic. “Mabel sent me a stocking.” He opens my door and I awkwardly climb in.

      He gets into the car a few seconds later.

      “That’s it?”

      He puts on the directional and checks the street. “Yes, that’s it.”

      I sit back in my seat. “Did your mom get you anything?”

      He half-shrugs as he pulls out into the street. “No, Hadley. Can you start the directions on my phone?”

      Heat prickles along my neck as I copy the address from Becky’s text to the navigation app on his phone. Here I am with four boxes of gifts and Will has barely anything. Well, besides the complete DVD box set of our favorite show, Judge & Jury, that I bought him. It seemed stupid now that he barely has anything else to open on Christmas morning.

      I note the end of the conversation when he opens his hand for the phone. I give it to him and he hooks it into the stand suctioned to his dash. His eyes dart between the road and his phone before hard rock music blares through the speakers.

      I don’t push the subject, but the uncomfortable prickle of embarrassment lingers on the surface of my skin.

      I settle into my seat for a long three hour drive.

      ***

      Will’s knuckles whiten over the steering wheel. “We should have left sooner.”

      I look up from my e-reader, nearly done with the newest book in my favorite paranormal series. We’ve been at a slow crawl for the past hour and are barely out of the City.

      He massages the back of his neck while his eyes narrow at the other cars.

      I put the e-reader away and change the music off the hard rock station. That won’t help anyone’s mood. I flip through until I get to a holiday station playing an instrumental melody of ‘White Christmas’. I sit back in my seat and take Will’s free hand in mine.

      He tilts his head to me.

      “We haven’t been alone in a while,” I start with a sigh. “I don’t care if we ever get there, I’m fine with spending the whole time in this car with you.”

      “What about a working toilet?”

      I smile. “Humans survived many years in the woods.”

      He taps my hand with his thumb. “Poison ivy…” he trails off as his eyes dip to my legs.

      I grimace and take my hand away as he chuckles. “You know what I mean.”

      The car inches forward. “I know. I just hate traffic.”

      “What’s your dad and Mabel doing for Christmas?” I ask.

      Will leans his head against the window, glaring laser beams at the cars in front of us. “It’s the first Christmas in some time that they’re together. I think they’re spending it with her Bridge group.” He chuckles. “Dad’s the only guy”

      “Do you wish you went?” I ask, knowing he hasn’t had much time with his dad since he got out of rehab for his alcoholism and moved down to Texas with Mabel.

      He shakes his head. “I talk to him almost every day and I promised to go down there in February.”

      That was news to me. Regret pinches at my chest as I realize we really haven’t talked about him in a while.

      The cars start another slow crawl. Will clamps both hands on the wheel and the truck lurches forward. Sometimes Will is still an enigma to me. Even though we worked through the secrets he hid from everyone for two years, I feel like it’s still a reflex for him. I tug at the hem of my shirt and settle into the seat. We just need to get to the cabin, then everything will be fine.

      ***

      It’s not until we get off the island of Manhattan that the roads open up for us. Will takes quick advantage and kicks up the speed of the truck. I adjust my body until I’m comfortable in my seat again.

      His attention is riveted on the road and I ponder bringing up his dad again. Or the fact that they didn’t buy much for him. The rational part of my brain protests. When Will came home this past summer, he didn’t have a lot of money. With his dad spending time in rehab this year, maybe they were being frugal? Or maybe they want to celebrate the holiday late in February? I want Will to relax but that won’t happen if I keep pushing him on the subject. I’ll have to do something extra special for him to make his Christmas as memorable as possible. I’ll have to be a little creative.

      ***

      We reach the small town of Holton Village around noon. Even though it’s later than expected, Will’s mood changes considerably. I’m not sure if it’s better or worse. Instead of grumbling he is quiet and contemplative. Even when we stop at the local grocery store it’s impossible to get more than a few words out of him.

      His only response to me asking him what he wanted was, “Whatever you want.”

      I wonder if the long trip took a lot out of him, so I take the initiative and fill the cart with as much as I can think of us needing.

      I want to get him something extra for Christmas, but there isn’t much other than food in the store. Plus, he insists on paying.

      As we drive through the small village, decorated for Christmas like a perfect snow globe, the silence stretches between us. I turn my focus to the road. Huge snow mounds line the street and I hope we’re able to get up to the cabin without a lot of issues. Will doesn’t seem too concerned. About anything, it seems.

      “It’s just a few miles up ahead,” I say, pointing into the distance, filling the silence. He hasn’t turned the radio back on since we got into the car.

      He glances at his phone and nods, reaching for the radio again. I guess I spoke to soon.

      “I’m excited to get there,” I say.

      “Yeah,” he mumbles, his eyes on the white-coated road.

      Maybe he’s concentrating? I turn my attention to the window, watching the people in the village pass by. Some of them carry several bags of packages, while others enter little quaint cafes along the strip. I even see a group of carolers dressed in old-fashioned costumes walking two by two down one side, singing a song. I can’t hear over our music.

      At the edge of town the trees thicken and there is more space between the houses. Eventually the trees take over the space completely. I watch the phone screen as our location nears the red flag signaling the cabin. But as we get closer, I don’t see any sign of it. Within a few minutes, we pass the red flag.

      “Shit.” Will leans forward. “Did you see the entrance?”

      I turn in my seat and squint. I hadn’t seen anything but trees. “No.”

      He maneuvers the truck around and slams his palm into the volume button, silencing the car. We move at a slow crawl down the road.

      “Becky said there is a one-lane road through here.”

      I sit up in my seat and try to help find it, but I don’t see anything. My overactive imagination thinks this is a sick joke and there isn’t really a cabin, and we’ll be stuck traveling back to the City in massive traffic. That or the opposite, getting snowed in for weeks...

      “There it is,” Will says as he turns the wheel.

      “There what is?” I ask, trying to see what he sees. A small rectangular wooden sign sticks up about a foot from the ground, half of it covered by snow. I can faintly make out the tops of letters etched on the sign, but I’m more focused on the narrow path Will’s truck has to fit through.

      “Are you sure—?”

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