My hands pause on the picnic basket and a small smile creeps up. “I have never thought about it that way before.”
“See? We’re perfect for each other.” Snow laughs and leans over my arm. “What did you bring?”
I lay out the carefully prepared, although mostly purchased, food—sandwiches, cakes, crackers, and cheese, several dips, and a selection of meats, followed by some cakes.
“Wow,” Snow murmurs. “This puts my Thanksgiving spread to shame.”
“It does, doesn’t it?”
She rolls her eyes and picks up a small cherry tomato, popping it into her mouth. “You’re just lucky because you get the Christmas stuff.”
“Not a fan?” I choose some cheese and crackers first.
“Of Christmas? No, I like Christmas. Love it, actually.”
“With a name like Snow, no wonder.”
“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not named after the season or the weather.” She leans into me as she talks, picking lightly at the food.
My arm slides around her waist, pulling her snug against me under the blankets. “Then what are you named after?”
“My parents met at this concert for an Indie band and fell in love. And then they loved that band so much that they followed them all over the world on tour and fell in love with Spain, which iswhere they are now. Anyway, they had a song called Noelle and that’s what my parents named me. But as a kid, I couldn’t say it so I would just say Noel which turned into Snoel because my allergies as a child were insane. And that sort of became Snow because it was easier for me to say, so the name stuck.”
Listening to her talk while we’re in our own bubble is the most wonderful thing.
The scenery is beautiful, her voice is warm and delicate, and the food is delicious.
There’s nowhere I’d rather be.
“That’s adorable.” I smile down at her. “Little Noelle became little Snow.”
Her elbow presses lightly into my abdomen. “Yeah, yeah.”
“And your parents are still in Spain?”
“Mhm. They live there now. Have for years, with my brother. That’s where I was saving up to visit.” She sighs and grumbles around a pastry. “Not that I’ll be seeing them anytime soon.”
“Can they not come and see you?”
Snow rolls her eyes. “They weren’t exactly heartbroken when I told them I couldn’t visit, so no, I don’t imagine they will.”
My arm tightens around her waist. “I’m sorry.”
She shrugs. “It’s fine. Family. Will your sister be back for Christmas?”
I gaze out across the field, where it dips down and merges with the icy lake on the horizon. “She wants me to visit her.”
“You don’t want to go?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
My tongue runs over my teeth and I close my eyes, thinking back to the last trip I took.
Snow shifts against me and when I open my eyes, she’s staring right at me with a slight frown.
“It’s a long story.”
