LITMIR.BIZ

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and maybe some skating in the outdoor rink in the town square. Then, after Christmas Eve dinner, he’d whip out the ring he’d bought, get down on one knee and ask her to marry him. After that they’d have champagne in their room, get a fire going in the fireplace and heat up the sheets. Oh, yeah. Holland was going to be blown away.

      “I just don’t want to see you hurt,” his mother said.

      Had his mother been a wet blanket in another life? “What makes you think I’ll get hurt?” He wasn’t an idiot, for crying out loud.

      Another silence on the other end of the line. “Honey, sometimes you’re not...”

      “Not what?”

      “Not very realistic.”

      Okay, sometimes he was an idiot. But how could he have known Sarah Schoop was out to use him? Okay, so she’d gotten him to buy her a few expensive presents. He hadn’t minded. He liked being generous. Maybe he liked being obtuse, too. He and Sarah would probably still be together if his mother and sister hadn’t done an intervention after his sister overheard Sarah asking him to pay for her boob job. They’d explained that Sarah loved him only for his 401k. Yeah, Sarah was a mistake. But he was older and wiser now. Once a guy passed thirty, he developed a little more discernment. And one thing he knew—Holland didn’t need to use him. Well, except as a sex toy.

      “You need a woman with a good heart,” said Mom.

      “Holland has a good heart.”

      “I’m sure she does...somewhere.”

      “Mom,” John said sternly, “you’re talking about the woman I love.”

      “Don’t remind me,” she said.

      “Okay, I have to go,” he said, pissed.

      “All right, but what am I supposed to tell the family tomorrow?”

      “Tell them that the next time they see me I’ll be engaged.”

      That didn’t make his mother happy but it sure made him smile.

      He was barely off the phone with Mom when his smartphone rang. This time it was the love of his life. “Hey,” he said. “I’m just leaving to pick you up.”

      “Yeah, about that.”

      Oh, no. His mind latched on to the image of a building getting whacked by a giant wrecking ball. He could practically hear the crack and crumble of his carefully laid plans. “What?”

      “I have to work late.”

      Two days before Christmas? Was she working for Ebenezer Scrooge?

      “You go on up and I’ll meet you there.”

      Oh, yeah, take two cars to a romantic getaway. “No way. We’ll wait and go tomorrow morning.” He’d paid a good chunk of change for the room but so what?

      “No, you may as well have fun. Just go on up.”

      How was that supposed to be fun without her? Here he was, planning to sweep her off her feet, and instead she was pulling the rug out from under him. “I’m not going up without you. That’s lame.”

      “No, it’s not. Anyway, you paid for the room. You might as well use it.”

      “It wouldn’t be the same without you. I’ll wait and we can go up later, after you get done at work. I’ll drive. You can relax.”

      “There’s nothing relaxing about the way you drive,” she informed him.

      John frowned. Honesty was important in a relationship, but sometimes Holland was too honest, especially when it came to his flaws. “Thanks a lot,” he muttered.

      “Come on, John. Don’t be like that.”

      “Like what?”

      “All disappointed and grumpy.”

      Kind of hard not to be disappointed. He’d had this all planned, and she’d known about it for a month. Since when was she so gutless that she couldn’t tell her boss she couldn’t work late?

      “It’s been a sucky day. I just want to get a good night’s sleep in my own bed,” she continued, further bruising his ego.

      Yeah, God forbid she’d want to cuddle up to him. They were serious, an item. Weren’t they supposed to want to be together?

      “So I’ll see you up there tomorrow. Where are we going again?”

      “The Icicle Creek Lodge,” he said, but not grumpily. He was not grumpy.

      “Okay, see you there,” she said, and ended the call.

      No matter what Holland said, he wasn’t going to go off and start their romantic getaway alone. “This reeks,” he grumbled as he tossed his phone onto the seat next to him and drove home.

      Home was a one-bedroom apartment in Seattle’s Belltown. He guessed he’d find some Bruce Willis movie on Netflix and kick back with a beer.

      And let that room at the Icicle Creek Lodge sit empty?

      Yeah. That was the gallant thing to do because what kind of turd-brain went off and started a romantic weekend without his girlfriend?

      A pissed one.

      The car was all loaded with the champagne in the trunk, along with his suitcase. And, as Holland had pointed out, the room at the Icicle Creek Lodge was paid for. So, he could go home to his apartment and sit around feeling grumpy or he could go on up to Icicle Falls and check in to a really cool place, get everything ready for when she came up tomorrow. Hmm.

      No, it didn’t feel right.

      Still, he’d already paid the money. He called Holland again.

      “What?” she snapped.

      “Are you positive you don’t want to go up tonight? I’ll give you a back rub when we get there,” he promised. Holland loved his back rubs.

      “No, I don’t. I’m not sure when I’ll get done and I’m tired from having to come in early. And I told you, I had a sucky day. I’ll see you up there tomorrow. Okay?”

      Well, there was no reason to get snappy. Oh, except for PMS. And if that was what was going on he’d be better off letting her get a good night’s sleep.

      “Fine,” he said, a little snappish himself. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

      “See you tomorrow,” she said in a quasipatient tone of voice, as if she was dealing with someone who was a severe trial.

      He knew when to give up. If she wanted to take two cars and waste gas, fine. “Okay.” He wanted to urge her not to take all day getting up there, but then he remembered that possible PMS thing so he didn’t. Instead, he said, “See you when you get there.” He added, “I love you, babe,” but she’d hung up. Well, he was the more romantic of the two of them. Weird, but there you had it.

      He was also the thriftier of the two, probably because he didn’t make as much as she did. There was nothing wrong with being thrifty, and hey, if she was determined to bring her own car, then he’d go up tonight.

      He turned toward I-90, brought up Pandora and got the Christmas music going. Once he hit Icicle Falls he’d maybe enjoy a late dinner at Zelda’s restaurant, where he’d planned to take Holland, just to check it out. And wish she was there.

      She’ll be there tomorrow, he reminded himself. And then everything would go according to plan.

      He made good time until he neared Snoqualmie Pass. Then the sleeting rain that had started around Bellevue turned to snow and traffic slowed down. There was a veritable logjam of cars in the spot designated for putting on chains, and with the way the snow was coming down, he could see why chains were required. Maybe Holland wouldn’t want to deal with that. Damn. He knew he should have waited and come up with her.

      He

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