Chapter 14
Chapter fourteen
Bryce
“A Blunt Would’ve Fixed This”
Istood on the patio, forearms resting against the cold railing, staring out into the white quiet like it might give me some answers if I stared long enough.
The mountains stretched out in front of me, and the snow clung to the trees in heavy layers.
The world was muted and hushed, like it was holding its breath.
I’d been out there for a good twenty minutes.
The cold didn’t bother me much. I’d spent too many too many mornings and nights landing planes in conditions that made lesser men pray, so that was familiar.
That was one of those days I wished I wasn’t a pilot—just so I could smoke. I just needed one blunt to take the edge off that whole weekend, or hell, even a bottle. But all we had was some fancy wine that Chesteria had bought. That shit wasn’t gonna scratch the surface of what I felt.
I chuckled low, the sound caught somewhere between disbelief and amusement, as I stood there thinking about the crazy shit Davion had said during our recent call.
“Man, fuck that,” Davion said. “If I were you, I’d tell Isis to pack them lashes and them ‘get ready with me’ outfits, and her and ol’ boy can hit the road.”
I huff a laugh. “Nigga, you wild. So you’d evict them in the snow?”
“Hell yeah! That ain’t no Airbnb! If they ain’t bringing peace or plates, they gotta go. Shid, then it could just be you and Chesteria… snowed in… lil’ romantic storm getaway. That way y’all can finally talk shit out.”
I shook my head, already smiling. “You always think life works like a movie.”
“Sometimes it does… you just gotta stop acting scared of the scene. All I’m saying is, don’t miss your cue ‘cause you stuck on the trailer.”
I chuckled low. But I ain’t gon’ lie… that part about the scene? That stuck with me. Davion said a lotta dumb shit, but every now and then he’ll accidentally preach… like a hood-ass fortune cookie.
I slipped my hand into my coat pocket, suddenly remembering I hadn’t spoken to the number one woman in my life—my mama. It was rare that she hadn’t already blown up my phone at least twice, especially knowing I was headed out of town.
As soon as she answered, her voice came through sharp and dramatic, as expected.
“Bryce Frost, I was two seconds away from reporting you missing… and I don’t mean to the sheriff! I was about to call on the Lord and the prayer warriors! I had Sister Jeanette on standby!”
I chuckled, letting her voice warm me from the inside out. “My bad for not checking in, Ma. But I’m here, and I’m good… physically.”
My mama didn’t miss a damn thing. She was a small woman with a big spirit and a sixth sense when it came to me.
Her tone softened instantly. “That’s good to hear. But is everything okay, baby? You sound a little down.”
I gave her the same rundown I just given Davion about the unexpected reunion with Chesteria, the tension, the storm, the useless roommates…
everything. Mama didn’t interrupt once, which meant she was either deeply concerned or preparing a sermon.
When I finished, the other end of the line was silent.
“Ma, you there?”
“Yes, son,” she finally spoke, her voice quieter now. “I… I’m just shocked. Then again, if the two of you showing up there at the same time, not to mention you’re snowed in, isn’t divine intervention, then I don’t know what is, baby.”
My mama believed in second chances like she believed in God’s grace.
She was a praying woman; the kind who still left oil crosses over her doorframe and wouldn’t let nobody eat Sunday dinner until they said grace—long and loud.
Another reason Mama felt that way was because she had always loved Chesteria.
She used to call her “that firecracker with the good heart.” Even after everything went left, Mama never stopped rooting for us.
I could already picture her smile—not the polite one she gave strangers at church, but that real, warm, and proud one that meant she was already thanking God in advance.
“Maybe y’all needed to be snowed in,” she continued, “just to thaw some things out. Bryce, closed doors don’t always stay closed; sometimes they just need a second try at the lock, a different key, a different season, and a willing heart.
Don’t let pride keep you from knocking, Bryce…
especially if you still hear something on the other side. ”
I didn’t always know how to respond to stuff like that, but I always felt it.
We exchanged a few more words, laughs, a “call me if you need me,” and a final “Put on some socks, I know your ankles cold.”
When the call ended, I stared at the phone a moment longer before sighing deeply.
“Gotta love that woman,” I mumbled to myself, pocketing the phone.
I took one last look at the snow-covered hills, squared my shoulders, and headed back toward the cabin door. The air was bitter, but somehow between Davion’s foolishness and Mama’s gospel, I felt a little warmer.
I was still snowed in, but maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t stuck.