Chapter 20
Ruben
With our heads down, we hurried toward the museum entrance. The icy wind whistled around our ears, and it had started to drizzle.
“That was simply delicious,” I said for approximately the hundredth time.
Shane leaned lightly against me. “Who would’ve thought that beetroot risotto could taste that extraordinary? I’ve rarely eaten anything so delicious. The only thing that can compete with it is walking beside me.”
I jerked my head up and narrowed my eyes. “Stop it,” I hissed, trying in vain to suppress my grin.
“I’m glad the restaurant still took us after we were almost twenty minutes late.”
“Mhm.” I shook my head slightly, weighing up the situation. “We didn’t have to make out.”
“Yes, we did,” he continued undeterred. “I’m not going to pass up an opportunity to make out with you teenager style.”
My smile was stapled to my face today. Even if I thought such things, I would never say them out loud.
That was what attracted me to Shane. Yes, he was different from me.
But that was what I needed. Desperately.
His comments might seem flippant to outsiders.
But for me, they contained the right dose of solvent to loosen up my sticky thoughts.
My chest turned warm. But because I was the way I was, I didn’t respond to Shane’s flirting but shared my concerns with him.
“We can be glad the deputy turned a blind eye. Someone else would have reported us for public indecency.”
I was shocked when the police officer knocked on our window, I had hit my head on the car roof. But it was his interruption that saved us our table at the restaurant.
A line had formed in front of the museum entrance, and we shifted from one foot to the other.
Shane put his arm around my waist. “Thanks for taking me to the restaurant. I really enjoyed it.”
I turned to him that our faces were almost touching. “You’re welcome! I’m glad you did.”
Shane closed the last bit of distance between us and rubbed our noses together. “I’m always interested in new things. I love to broaden my horizon.”
I closed my eyes and enjoyed Shane’s breath as it brushed against my skin. “I like routine.”
Shane backed away slightly. “Then I keep my fingers crossed you’ll like the exhibition. It would be a real shame if the second part of the date was a flop.”
Date. We were on a date. Officially. “It’ll be fantastic. Either way.”
Shane took my elbow and pulled me forward. The line finally moved, and we made it to the entrance area.
Relieved, we took off our scarves and opened our jackets. After handing everything in at the coat check, Shane paid for us and we entered the exhibition.
Although the word “exhibition” didn’t do justice to what awaited us there.
It was an experience. With our first step, we found ourselves surrounded by the works of Beauford Delaney. They enveloped us. The mood, the expression, the power were multiplied by the intense projections.
Music reinforced the impressions. We went from room to room. Sometimes thoughtful. Sometimes light, as if I were floating. But always deeply impressed by the colors, the complexity and simplicity of the images.
I paused at one light installation. The image Scattered Light colored the walls, ceiling, and floor. I turned around. Slowly at first. Then faster.
It felt as if the splashes of color were penetrating me. Filling me with color.
I stood there overwhelmed.
Shane laughed and held me by the arm. “Good?”
Still grinning, I shook my head. “This reminds me of a kaleidoscope. It’s fascinating.”
“Overwhelming . . . good?” he asked again.
I took a step toward him and tapped his chest lightly. “Of course it’s good. Fantastic.”
He exhaled slowly. “Then I’m relieved.”
I held out my hand to him. “Come on! Let’s keep going!”
When we left the museum almost two hours later, pure chaos awaited us.
Cars were parked haphazardly in the parking lot. People were crawling on the ground. Others were simply sitting on their backsides.
Lights were flashing from the street.
“What on earth happened here?” I stared at the disaster in horror.
“Excuse me. Can I get through?” Behind us, a man armed with a shovel, a bucket, and a determined expression made his way through the crowd.
He immediately set about clearing away the ice that had formed across the entire forecourt in front of the entrance. As he worked, he sprinkled a mixture of salt and stone chips.
“That won’t do any good,” grumbled a woman’s voice from the cash register.
“We have to do something,” the man countered.
“Not even the emergency services can get through,” the woman continued the discussion. “The cars are parked right up to our driveway.”
I turned to the driveway in question. The lights on the street turned out to be the flashing lights and warning lights of cars that had skidded into the ditches or were blocking the width of the road.
“Fuck!” I blurted out.
Shane pulled me out of the entrance area by my arm, checking his phone.
He swiped wildly at it.
“When do you have to work tomorrow?” he wanted to know.
“Not until lunchtime. I am supposed to be there around nine. Why?”
“My first student is at ten.” He tilted his head. “How about we extend our date for the night?”
I frowned. “What do you have in mind?”
He pointed across the parking lot, where the dark night stretched out.
“Behind this park is a field. And behind that field—not even a mile away—is a small boutique hotel on the outskirts of Burlington. I just made a reservation online and will call right away to secure the room for us. Tomorrow morning, when this mess has been cleared up, we can drive back at a leisurely pace.”
Stunned, I stared into the darkness ahead of us and then at Shane’s face. “How do you plan to cover that mile? On skates?”
He looked back at his phone. “It’s grass. Despite the black ice, we can walk there without any problems.”
“Says who?”
He tugged at my sleeve again. “Shall we go? Should I call? Do you have a better idea?”
I shook my head. “Call. If the bears eat us, I’ll hold you responsible.”
A broad grin lit up Shane’s face. “All right. Buckle up, we’ve got an adventure ahead of us.”
I smiled as I watched him enthusiastically dial the number.
“Yes. Right, we made a reservation online and wanted to make sure.”
The person on the other end of the line must have been talking, because Shane nodded and made sounds of agreement. Finally, he continued.
“I see. Perfect. Sure. The honeymoon suite is ideal. We’re on our honeymoon.”
“Shane!” I punched him lightly on the upper arm. He covered the microphone and pushed me away with his shoulder.
“It’ll take a while for us to get there. We’re walking.”
Shane paused again and continued nodding to himself.
“No. We’re going cross-country. You have my credit card number. We’ll show up.”
“Unless the bears eat us,” I grumbled, and Shane put his arm around my shoulder. He ended the call and kissed me on the cheek.
“Even though I understand why the bears would want to eat a cute cook, I’ll prevent it.”
Apparently, I still appeared skeptical, because he kissed me again and pulled me toward him. “They won’t come that close to the city. Most of the time.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re only making it worse. Let’s go.”
We made our way along the building to the park adjacent to the museum. Even here, we were walking on grassy areas covered in snow. I tried to make my way along one of the small paths and immediately slipped. The frozen snow and grass crunched under our feet, and we skidded from time to time.
When we stepped onto the field Shane had identified on the map, it became abundantly clear that we were not dressed appropriately for this adventure.
Immediately, we were ankle-deep in snow in the furrows.
It slid over the edge into my shoes and I cursed.
The disgusting cold penetrated my socks, and my feet were icy within seconds.
“It’s just up ahead,” Shane assured me, and we picked up the pace. We were making good progress, but the cold was creeping up my calves. My pant legs were getting wet, and the uneven ground required me to use all my strength to keep my footing.
Together it took us almost thirty minutes to cover a distance that Shane on his owen probably covered in ten minutes.
Finally, we reached the back of the hotel and made our way around the corner to the main entrance.
The last part was the most difficult because the hotel parking lot was as slippery as the museum’s.
Shane glided toward the entrance on his boots with relative elegance, while I couldn’t find the slightest grip with my leather shoes.
A cute little woman suddenly appeared at the door.
The green suit she was wearing was tailor made for her.
She wore white sneakers that either matched the classic outfit perfectly or didn’t match at all.
I couldn’t decide. “Oh my goodness! Where did you come from? We’ve just cleared a path to the street. ”
“No problem.” The effort Shane had to make was clear in his voice. His pants were wet up to his knees, and his shoes had seen better days.
My next step met with no resistance and I flailed my arms. At the last second, I managed to grab hold of the wall of the house.
“Wait!” Shane called. Exhausted, I stopped and stared at the entrance.
“I probably won’t get any further, anyway. I’ll just spend the night here.”
Shane laughed. “My drama queen!”
“Pfft,” was all I could say.
“Could you please . . . ” Shane pointed behind the woman.
She turned around and nodded in agreement. “Good idea. Here.” She handed Shane a shovel with a long handle, and I groaned.
“Oh, come on, how is that supposed to work?”
Shane had slid over to the side of the house and held the handle out to me. “It’ll work. Now do it.”
Grumbling reluctantly, I grabbed it and let Shane half pull me, half crawl toward the entrance.
Finally, I was only a few inches away and reached Shane’s hand. With a strength I didn’t expect, he hoisted me into his arms.