Page 29 of Meet Me at Christmas
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“Hey,” Henry called from his truck in the parking lot.
Despite having noticed she was near his vehicle, she would have known immediately who the voice belonged to no matter what. The way he said “hey” was the same way he used to say it when she came into a room. The edge he’d had in therapy seemed to be stripped away. She turned around.
“You get all the way here in that?” He nodded toward her Mazda parked a few vehicles down from his.
“Yes, why?”
He got out of his truck and put his hands in the pockets of his jeans, his shoulders tight, as if he wasn’t quite comfortable enough yet to let his guard down with her entirely. “You didn’t learn anything from the other night?”
“It’s not nearly as cold and snowy as it was then.” She wasn’t going to let his shortness ruffle her. She reminded herself that, given his memory loss, his issues had nothing to do with this particular occasion.
“Even today, the melted snow has frozen over. You shouldn’t be out without four-wheel drive.”
Stella gestured to the other cars in the parking lot. “Everyone else is doing all right.”
He frowned. “At the very least, people around here aren’t used to this weather, and you’ll need to have a vehicle that can dodge the other cars when they slide around like maniacs.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, his gruff concern warming her slightly. While he was nowhere near being the person she’d left all those years ago, the old Henry was right under the surface, waiting to push through. She could feel it. “Did you need something, or were you just coming out to judge my choice of vehicle?” She allowed a smile.
A crack formed in his icy facade. He kept a straight face, but she caught a tiny glimmer of something else when he looked at her. “It’s lunchtime and I’m hungry.”
She folded her arms both to shield herself from the cold breeze and because she was waiting for an explanation as to what that had to do with her.
“If I’m hungry,” he repeated, “I thought you might be too.”
“Are you trying to ask me out?”
Even though his expression didn’t change, the familiar flush he used to get when she flirted with him washed over his cheeks, giving her an unexpected flutter. What was she doing, flirting with Henry Dutton?
“I’m asking if you want to be driven safely through the snow and ice to get a meal.”
“Good, because I’m not into going on dates.”
He went around and opened the passenger door to his truck, then stood next to it, waiting. “Do you want to eat or not?”
She had every reason to say no. But without answering, she walked over and climbed onto the cold bench seat in the truck. Henry shut the door and jogged around to his side. As he started the engine, the truck coming to life, Stella blew into her hands and rubbed them together, her whole body shivering. He clicked on the heat to full blast, put the truck in gear, and headed out to the main road.
“Where are we going for lunch?” she asked.
He kept his eyes on the road. “Somewhere empty. I’m not big on people.”
She looked over at him, his comment surprising her. Henry had always loved being around others. He was voted “Most Likely to Host a Talk Show” in their high school superlatives. “You don’t like people?”
“They’re exhausting.” He put on his blinker and took a left down Wedgewood Avenue.
“But you asked me to come with you,” she pointed out. “Why?”
A huff escaped his lips and he shook his head. “I don’t know.” He pulled to a stop at the red light and turned toward her as if deciding to share a secret. “Actually, I do know.”
She held her breath, wondering what he’d say.
“I feel like…” He looked back ahead and the light turned green. As he accelerated, he focused on the road once more.
“What do you feel like?” she prompted him, unsure whether she actually wanted to hear the answer.
“I feel like knowing you will help me know myself. I can’t explain why.”
