“Um, thanks.”
Good. I flustered her a little and suddenly it starts to snow hard.
“Wow, it’s really coming down. You should get going so your driver can go home.” He gives her a smile through the rearview mirror, probably greatly appreciating that she mentioned he also needs to get home in bad weather.
I never think about the people serving me. He likely needs to go to some kind of a dispatch area and drop the car off. Then he’ll need to use his own car to get home and God knows where that is. If we are heading into another blizzard he could very well get stuck somewhere. Of course I never think of these things, but it's the first thing out of Juliet’s mouth, and no mention of our kiss.
As I'm mulling over the differences between her kindness and my callous disregard, she furrows her brow and huffs.
“I left my keys on the counter. I was in such a hurry this morning.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket and dials her grandmother I assume. “Hey, Gran it's me. I'm good. Listen, I'm so sorry but I left my keys at work, can you come out and open the door? I really hate to disrupt you, I know it's getting late and yucky outside but I forgot to put them in my bag.” Gran seems to be fine with coming down and opening the door for Juliet and I watch her face relax with relief. She looks at me and says, “She’s coming.”
“Oh, great.” I'm a little disappointed that someone is coming to rescue Juliet because the first thing that crossed my mind was to bring her back to the hotel with me.
When Gran shows up at the front door Juliet looks at me for a moment. I feel like she wants to kiss me, but simply cannot allow herself to let go.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say reluctantly and Juliet walks up the front stairs to meet Gran.
I wait for them to enter the house while I answer a text that comes through asking for updates on the project. The snow is now pummeling the car with severe gusts of wind. I finish my text and to my immense surprise, Gran is in the horrible snow storm knocking on my window. I open the door and she pokes her head in.
“Send that driver home,” she says. “The blizzard is coming.” She looks at me and says, “The enemy can sleep in the guest room. I'm not letting anyone drive in this weather.” She then knocks on the driver's window. He rolls it down and she pokes her head inside. “How are you getting home?”
“Dispatch is around the corner, and I'm not too far from that. I'll make it home just fine, ma’am. Thank you.”
Well, now I know where Juliet gets her compassion.
Gran is insistent that I stay and if I argue I will lose my opportunity to spend more time with Juliet. I gather my belongings and I follow Gran and Juliet up the walkway to the front porch, letting my driver go back to the car park so he can return the car and make it to his family before the worst of the storm hits. It's scary and also a little exciting to be in this predicament. It’s the third time the weather has forced Juliet and I to spend time together. I'm starting to think fate might be involved.
I keep thinking that I shouldn't have kissed Juliet. I shouldn’t want her like this. But the way she laughed on that sleigh ride, fearless even when the runners skidded over the ice, it hit something buried so deep inside me I thought it was gone.She’s brighter than the Christmas star.I wasn’t trying to charm her with that line. I meant it. And the realization terrifies me.
The storm is rolling in fast. Snow has already blanketed the streets.
“One more minute out in that,” Gran says, “and you'd be sliding all over the road with my granddaughter in your car.” Her scowl deepens. “Well, come on in and take off your coat. you can put it on the coat rack and I'll get us all something to drink. Scotch good for you?” yeah.
“Scotch sounds great.” I do my best to give her a warm smile.
“I don't see any other enemies here do you?” This makes me laugh out loud.
Gran’s home is simple and modest. It is part of a colonial style building that has been separated into several dwellings. What I love about this era of architecture is that everything is ornate and exquisitely made. In Gran’s apartment there is a tall foyer that has dark green wallpaper with pretty white flowers scrolling on vines from the floor to the ceiling. Behind the foyer is a large living room with a view of the very nasty weather outside. Though it is only six in the evening the skies are dark and gloomy. The snow is coming down so fiercely it's blanketed the shrubs outside of the building.
On the left hand side of the living room is a cozy kitchen with a dining room table and old fashioned appliances. Gran is busy muddling around in the kitchen. Juliet sets her stuff in the foyer then meets me in the living room. I can see to the right side of the living room there is some kind of office or library crammed full of books.
“Do you want me to show you around?” Juliet must have noticed my curiosity because I am very fascinated by the architecture.
As a boy I loved perusing architectural digest and fantasizing about the way the rich lived. We didn't have money at the beginning. My father made some shady deals that brought in money quick and dirty. However, those dreams of having everything I ever wanted still haunt me.
“I would love to have you show me around,” I say to her.
She takes me to a small study off of the living room lined with bookshelves, then shows me the ornate bathroom that is connected to the study. We go upstairs and on the second floor there are three bedrooms and a bathroom. Juliet shows me to the guest bedroom which is a decent size with a full-sized bed, brightly colored striped wallpaper, a handmade quilt, and a few family pictures in frames. Juliet explains to me that Gran's bedroom is on this floor as is her husband's old bedroom that still has not been touched. They stopped sleeping together in their later years because grandpa had a snoring problem. Julia then has me follow her up the last flight of stairs to a cozy little attic bedroom where she has a twin bed, nightstands and a little sitting area by the window that is now partially covered in snow.
“Can you get on the roof through this window?” I ask, looking out the snow lined glass.
“I do it every night.” Juliet confesses. “But there will be no going out tonight; it's deadly outside. I can't believe Gran forced you to stay here. I'm sorry, Marcel. I'm sure you have a million better things to be doing.” She really does look remorseful.
“Skidding all over the road doesn't sound like a lot of fun nor is it very safe.” I don't tell her that I would rather be here with her than anywhere else on earth.
“It's strange how we keep ending up together,” she says to me and yet I don't think it's strange at all.
It's magical and wonderful, and kind of reminds me of legitimate Christmas magic. “Maybe it's a winter miracle,” I tease.
