Page 13 of Stuck With My Christmas Crush

“No. Why do you say that?”

“No reason.” I stare straight ahead. “Just a vibe I’m getting.”

“A vibe.”

“Yes. It’s… I’m sensitive to a person’s energy. You know, their aura.”

Jason starts laughing. “You are one out of box, alright, fairy. Unique. There’s only one of you, right? At least I hope that’s the case.”

“Oh. Okay. I get it. I appreciate you helping me. And I’ll remember to keep my opinions to myself.”

The song finishes and the announcer comes on.

“Looks like we’re all set for a white Christmas, folks.”

I squeal with excitement and clap my hands. “Yay!” Jason rolls his eyes at me.

The radio guy continues. “The latest from the weather office is this. A blizzard is due to strike in the next few hours, so here’s what the emergency services advise. Number one: stay home. Do not travel. Number two: make sure you have candles and flashlights ready and waiting inpreparation for a power outage. Number three: look after each other. Hunker down. This is going to be a big one.”

“Oooh. That’s not good.” I bite my lip. My earlier enthusiasm is squashed like a bug.

The radio announcer continues, “In case you just joined us, the latest weather report is rated as code red. That’s code R.E.D., everyone. Stay home. Stay safe. We’ll be here to keep you updated. Now, another Christmas classic from The Ronettes, ‘Frosty the Snowman’.” As the intro of Phil Spector’s unmistakable tune begins to play, the announcer says with zeal, “Ha! There’s going to be a whole heap of snow soon, so stand by, Frosty. You’re sure to get a whole lot of snow buddies. Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas, everybody.”

“Oh, boy.” Jason clenches his jaw. The Chevy engine is still running but the charge of energy has disappeared from the inside of the cab. “Do you want to try and get Bertie going? I mean, if he’s up to it, you could still get to the city before the storm hits.”

“It’s worth a go,” I say with my perkiest, brightest smile as I open the door and prepare to dart out to my car, although the oversized hiking boots threaten to trip me up.

I take a deep breath then scamper, as if moving fast is going to make a difference to how wet I get. I open Bertie’s driver’s door and climb in. Jason watches throughthe windshield of the Chevy in front. I can just about see him behind the open hood of my ancient Beetle. I hear the Chevy’s engine rev, and I send up a prayer to the gods of car mechanics as turn the key in Bertie’s ignition.

Click.

Nothing. I try it again, foolishly expecting a different outcome.

Click.

Jason shuts off the Chevy and mimes a throat slice, the international signal for ‘Stop what you are doing. It’s useless. Everything is useless.’ He jumps out of the cab and splashes over to remove the jumper cables from Bertie, and then unclips them from the battery in the Chevy. I get out and join him in the sideways rain.

“It didn’t work.”

“No.”

“What now?” I shout over the increasing noise of wind and rain. Jason waves me in the direction of the Chevy. He coils the jumper cables and jumps into the driver’s seat. I clamber in the passenger side and take off my hood.

“Here’s my suggestion,” says Jason turning toward me. Rain drips from his beard. He wipes it away with the back of his hand.

“Okay. Go ahead. I’m all ears,” I say, although I’m thinking about Jason’s beard and how nice it would be to run my fingers through.

“I’ll tow you back to the hotel. I’m guessing the roadside recovery guys won’t be out tomorrow because of the code-red weather warning. You can call them to update your location and status. That way you will be removed from the search and rescue critical list, otherwise emergency crews will be out looking for you, okay?”

“Sure. If that’s alright. Then, let’s do it.”

Jason nods. “Right. Here’s what we’re going to do next. Your car…”

“Bertie.”

“Yes, Bertie, needs to be facing the other way.” Jason points up the hill toward the hotel. “So, you’re going to steer. And I’ll push. Got it?”

“Yep.”

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