“There’s a storm comin’,” Tilly threw in. “A real bad one, they say. Already hit South Dakota this mornin’. Roads are closed. Electricity is out in some counties.”
“Oh, shit,” Lulu looked alarmed. Then he blushed, nibbling at his bottom lip. “Isn’t this just like in the movies,papi?” He blinked at Xavi, who looked ready to make a run for it right this minute—come hell, high water, or blizzard. “You and me, small town motel. Forced proximity due toforce majeure. Best friends-to-lovers. Sexy banter…” Lulu looked like he was about to swoon right off his chair, his eyes starting to glaze over. “Just one bed!” he gasped, fanning himself with both hands.
“Yeah, there’ll be none of that,” Xavi countered. Turning towards Tilly, he attempted a serious expression, Lulu pouting next to him. “How long’s it supposed to last? The blizzard.”
“Well, they say around 24 hours, but you never know. One time back in ’74—”
“Now, Til. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Hank interrupted. “I’m sure it’ll clear up by tomorrow at the latest. But it might take them a day or two to clear the roads. Especially the smaller back roads.” He looked at Finn, who had grown eerily quiet after the conversation had landed on Oregon, a wistful look in his eyes. “It depends on the type of wheels you have, of course,” he continued. “I mean, road conditions an’ all.” A deep sigh left Xavi as he brushed at his beard.
“FIAT 500,” he whispered.
“Say what now?” Hank looked at the guy in sheer disbelief.
“Yes,” Lulu repeated. “A FIAT 500. Tallulah took the van with her prizewinning poodles, so we had to take the FIAT.”
“Why didn’t you boys just fly?” Tilly asked, sweeping the counter with a cloth.
“Because mybestieis afraid of flying,” Lulu patted Xavi’s arm reassuringly. “It’ssuperstición,” he added solemnly.
“What now?” Hank felt a headache building, all hope of enjoying a somewhat quiet breakfast with Finn evaporating.
“You know, some witch cast a spell on Xavi’sabuelitaback in Santa Domingo.”
“You don’t say!” Tilly gasped, eyes wide open.
“It’s true!” Lulu nodded.
“But what does that have to do with flying?”
“Don’t ask…” Xavi groaned. “A story for another day.”
“Sí, hermana.” Lulu winked at Tilly. “Mañana,I tell you.” Tilly looked positively glowing at the upgrade fromma’amtohermana, her orange-colored lips mouthing the word a coupleof times, clearly pronouncing theh. Then, as if it finally dawned on her, Tilly looked at Finn.
“Finn here is from Oregon, aren’t you, hon?” Nodding tentatively, Finn played with his napkin.
“Yeah. Florence. By the coast,” he murmured.
“I thought Florence was in France,” Lulu chirped.
“Italy,” Xavi corrected. “But no, different continent.”
“Oh. Bummer. Always wanted to go to France. Italy, too,” Lulu continued unfazed, not seeming to notice that both Hank and Finn had sobered and gotten quiet. Finn poked at his pancakes, the syrup looking like a sad pool of dirty, melted snow by now.
“Maybe we can go one day,” Xavi mumbled, his voice a tad softer than before, a fond smile curling across his lips.
“Yeah?” Lulu spoke, voice equally soft, something passing between them that only they knew the language for. “You’d do that? But you’d have to fly.”
“For you. For you, anything.”
“Awww, youdolove me,hermano.”
“Don’t push it.”
What happened next happened so fast that Hank had to do a mental debriefing later to make sure that it had, in fact, happened, and that it wasn’t just some strange detour that his mind had taken.
“You should go with them then,” Tilly smiled fondly at Finn. “Once the storm passes. You’ll make it home to your people just in time for the holidays, hon. Won’t that be nice?” The feeling that washed over Hank at the simple logic of Tilly’s words felt like being hit by a baseball bat square in the face while someone kneed you in the balls. Not that either had ever happened to Hank, but he assumed it must feel like that. All air was sucked out of his lungs in an instant as he looked at Finn next to him.
“Uhm… yeah… maybe,” Finn mumbled, his eyes searching Hank’s frantically.
