“I’ve always thought that about you,” I tell her truthfully.
The lights are brilliant. I’ve never seen such a vivid display of color across the sky. We ooh and aah like we’re watching fireworks.
And then the snow comes. And it keeps on coming. Before long, the flakes are swirling hard and fast, making it feel like we’re getting dumped on. I straighten.
“This looks like some serious snow.” I pull out my phone. “Let me check the weather and see what’s happening.”
No signal.
“Shit. I forgot that it’s hard to get reception up here.” Fuck. I was so intent on making everything right for this date, I forgot to do one of the most important things you should do during a Minnesota winter––I forgot to check the weather forecast.
I’m suddenly aware of how remote we are. “We should probably head back before it gets worse.”
She nods. “Do you think it’s safe to drive?”
The pit in my stomach grows as we get out and move to the front of the vehicle. I start the engine. “If not, don’t worry. We’ll find a place to stay.”
We creep along, my wipers working overtime, but it’s not enough. Juju’s quiet beside me, her hands tucked into her lap. I can feel the worry bouncing off of her. My gut makes the call. I don’t want to put us at risk.
“We should stop,” I say.
“I haven’t seen any places,” she says.
“I think there’s a motel not too far.” When we finally reach the motel I was thinking about, it’s a lot more run-down than I was expecting.
The neon vacancy sign is flickering, and only a couple of cars are out front.
I look at Juju. “I’m really sorry about this. Not how I wanted this night to go.” Snow smacks the windshield. “I hate that this is the first place we’re ever spending the night,” I mutter.
Her laugh breaks the tension. “You mean you didn’t plan this romantic roadside motel? On our first date?” She laughs harder.
I shoot her a look, but the corner of my mouth twitches. “Nope, not the impression I was going for. I wanted a cozy picnic dinner with the northern lights, and to drive you back home like a gentleman.”
She puts her hand on my shoulder. “It’s fine, Camden. We’ll laugh about this later.” She snorts. “I’m laughing about it now.”
“You’re right. It’s fun just being with you. I just feel bad.”
“Don’t. I’m having a good time.” She points at me. “But if there are heart-shaped beds and champagne glass tubs, I’m out.”
I snort, swiping my hand down my face.
“This is what I get for borrowing the idea from myself years ago…the last time I almost asked you out on a date…”
“What? You’ve never come anywhere close to asking me out…where was I?” She laughs.
CHAPTER TWENTY
SEASONS
JULIANA
Past: Juju, age 21, Camden, age 23
It feltsogood to be home. I’d opted to go to Chicago to earn my bachelor’s degree in culinary arts. Goldie was brave to go all the way to California for college, and I’d been tempted to go with her, but being that far from home felt like too much. Chicago already felt too far to me, but at least I’d be able to drive home in a day if I needed to.
Truth be told, I was a Midwest girl through and through. I could appreciate California and had enjoyed it many times during my visits to see Goldie, but there was so much that I loved about Minnesota…and Chicago too. I loved the seasons, and I loved waiting with anticipation for the leaves to change, bundling up in the winter, and feeling the awe and wonder that came when everything that had looked dry and dead and hopeless sprang back to life in the spring.
But what I loved most was when everyone was in St. Paul…or Windy Harbor…it didn’t matter which place, as long as wewere together. As we got older, it had become harder for the Whitmans and Fairs to all be in one place at the same time. So when we were invited to the Whitmans’ house one night while I was home for winter break, I couldn’t wait to get there.
