Page 3 of Meet Me at Christmas
Stella swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing herself back into the conversation. “I didn’t even know Lily was dating anyone.” She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and opened the screen to get to her sister’s number.
“You can’t call her. It goes straight to voicemail. I’ve tried.”
Stella remembered the two undeliverable texts in the airport, and she knew from living abroad that messaging from country to country could sometimes be a problem. She’d learned about other apps that could work, but doubted if Lily knew anything about them. And if her sister hadn’t changed her billing plan, it could also be very expensive, which, coupled with spotty service in a remote location, could be the culprit for the undelivered texts.
“Have you spoken to her at all?”
Stella’s mother shook her head, distress clear in her frown lines. “She left a quick message to say she loved me but couldn’t talk then, that she’d had to go to Costa Rica, and she got married. Then the line cut out.”
Stella chewed her lip, baffled. “The snow looks like it’s starting to stick a little,” she said, changing the subject.
“Yes,” her mother said, the heaviness of the situation remaining.
Stella’s eyes still burned as a result of the jarring time change from her flight across the Atlantic, and she squeezed them shut before taking in the view. A lone maple leaf on the tree next to her window finally let go of its barren branch. It floated down to the ground, shimmering in the wetness of the precipitation under the blinking Christmas lights.
She turned away. The pantry was nearly empty when she’d arrived this afternoon—only coffee and a few odd cans of soup—and she wondered how her mother had been managing. She’d barely had time to get her bags in the house before the storm rolled in. Now the snow had started coming down at a rate unprecedented for this area, and they were sure to be unable to drive down the hilly main roads safely if they didn’t get out soon. They needed to get food if they wanted to eat tonight.
“We should probably get to the store before the roads are covered in ice.”
Mama peered past her out the window. “Yes, we probably should.” With the storm, Lily’s and Pop’s absences, and the holiday, her mom’s worry was palpable. “My car’s low on gas after picking you up. And it looks icy out there already. Think it’s still safe enough to go?”
“I think so. We can just pop over to the market,” she said, referring to the small gas station that doubled as a country store. It sat between two pastures around a five-minute drive from their house. “Then we can get real groceries tomorrow.”
“What if it dumps more snow overnight like they say it might?” her mother asked, an edge to her voice Stella had never heard before. “How will we clear the drive?”
“I doubt it will. It never snows that much here. But if it does, I’ll think of something.” She racked her brain for anyone she knew within a five-mile radius who could help them shovel a drive. It wasn’t many people, given the sizes of the plots in the countryside. All her friends had gone off to college when she had and then moved on to other states, but their families were probably around—she was almost certain.
“What about Casey’s parents? Are they still on Maple? They might lend a hand tomorrow if we need it.”
“Yeah, but they’d have to get down Southall, and the river’s gonna be too high with the rain we’ve had. If the road isn’t flooded, I bet it’s already a sheet of ice.”
“We could call Marty,” she suggested, remembering the old farmer down the street.
“His back’s been bothering him, so Penny’s been driving him around, andshewon’t want to come out in this mess.” Her mother shook her head. “In my first year of retirement, I should’ve planned better and asked around, given the extra time on my hands, but with the decorating for Christmas I tried to do outside, I’ve felt like I’m under water.”
Stella chewed on the inside of her lip, thinking. The only other person she could think of, she didn’t dare say. He wasn’t there anyway. “Okay.” Stella grabbed her boots from the corner of her room. “Let’s go before this snow storm gets any worse. I’ll drive.”
“Are you sure it’s safe to go out in this?” Her mother tugged on her arm.
Stella pulled on her boots and fished her old set of car keys out of the drawer next to her bed. “It’s barely dusting the roads, Mama. But if we don’t go now, it could get worse. Does my car have more gas than yours?”
“Yeah.” With a new mixture of fear and forced strength in her eyes, her mother straightened her shoulders and opened the bedroom door. “All right.”
When Stella got outside to start the old Mazda she’d driven in high school, it was still resting in its spot in the driveway where Stella had parked it thirteen years ago, before she left for good. Mama told her she and her father had taken it out a few times, but just as they’d always done over the years, they returned it to the same place.
It was cold when they finally climbed in, and Stella turned on the windshield wipers, sleet sliding back and forth in transparent half-moons on the glass. She clicked on her headlights, illuminating the icy showers that were coming down at a slant.
“We’re just running over to the market,” she said in response to Mama’s obvious tension. “They’ll have the basics.”
Mama fastened her seatbelt and clasped her hands in her lap. Stella put the car in gear and slowly pressed the gas, the tires protesting against the slick layer of ice underneath them. After a few more growls of the engine, the wheels broke free and the car began to bump down the long, winding drive leading to the road.
“See? We’re fine.” The radio was still on from whomever last drove the car, and a quiet hum of Christmas carols surrounded them as Stella drove.
The car fishtailed just slightly on the frozen road when she turned onto it. Stella gripped the steering wheel, her eyes glued to the pavement in front of her. With the snow now covering the ground in a thin layer, she focused on the small dip on either side of the road, careful to keep the car between the lines. “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” tinkled in the background.
“This was a bad idea,” Mama said under her breath. “It’s coming down so fast and it’s covering black ice.”
“I can do it. We’ll be ok.” Stella channeled Pop’s calming voice from when he’d taught her how to drive in his old Ford pickup during a rainstorm.
