Chapter SixteenMicahOctober 19
Chapter Sixteen
Micah
Without my phone to tell me the time, I have no idea how long it takes to get everyone settled.
I just know I’m exhausted. Everyone has a problem, and though most of the bus passengers are as helpful as they can be, we all are starting to get on each other’s nerves.
There’s only so much rearranging I can do before I have to tell Cynthia that she and her husband can’t push their couches right in front of the fireplace and block all the heat and no, we won’t have a full breakfast in the morning, and if anyone tells me their blanket smells like must and they want a new one I might start crying.
It’s probably close to midnight when most people are finally asleep. By some miracle, Lila has remained in her room. I checked on her a couple of times, even tried to wake her up once, but she mumbled something about wanting five more minutes and went back to sleep.
So now, the only person who seems to be awake is me, and that thought settles over me in the heavy silence.
I did it. I got everyone situated to the best of my ability, and no one is going to end up cold tonight. Hungry, maybe, but at least we’ll all make it through the night. As long as this storm doesn’t last a couple of weeks, I doubt anyone will resort to eating each other.
I let out a giggle that I can’t stop. I really said that to Chad, like there was an actual risk that these people would start eating each other because they hadn’t had a meal since they stopped for lunch this afternoon.
“What’s so funny?” a soft voice says behind me.
Though I jump, I relax as soon as I realize it’s Fischer.
I haven’t seen him much for the last couple of hours, though I’m pretty sure he’s been hopping around and talking to everyone here.
Hopefully telling them that the only food we have in the entire lodge is a bag of sugar and the homemade peanut brittle one of the ladies has in her purse.
In the glow of the firelight, he looks like the walking dead, and I barely resist the urge to reach up and brush my fingertips over the dark circles beneath his eyes.
He put on a pair of glasses at some point, and he looks really good with them on. Less intense, somehow, like the frames are there to remind me that he’s human and has flaws like anyone else.
“I thought you went to bed,” I say.
He shrugs. “I gave up my bed.”
“You did? Why?”
He doesn’t say anything, though I’m pretty sure his expression is answer enough. I just wish I was awake enough to read him right now.
Wait, he gave up his room? “Where are you going to sleep?” I look around. Though there’s floor space left, it doesn’t look all that inviting. We handed out all the blankets and pillows anyway. “Where am I going to sleep?”
Before I can panic again, Fischer takes my hand, pulling me into his arms. When I was in this spot after calling Chad, I didn’t want to leave, and I am definitely not complaining now.
There’s something a little perfect about being in Fischer’s hold, like we were made to fit together.
“You were amazing,” he tells me. “You know that, right?”
“I would have fallen apart without you. I’m glad you’re my friend, Fischer.”
He tenses, and I wonder if I presumed too much with that. We’re colleagues, yes, but that doesn’t automatically make us friends. “You should get some rest,” he says, pretty much ignoring my friend comment.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep with so many people around,” I admit. “Think Lila would let me climb in with her?”
He shudders. “I don’t want to think what she would do to you if she woke up with you in her bed.
I have a better idea.” Taking my hand, he tugs me toward the front desk and gestures to the space behind it, where a pile of blankets and pillows are waiting.
“I stole these from Grant, but I don’t think he’ll notice.
He’s got a flask of vodka tucked in his coat pocket to keep him warm. ”
Is it normal to cry over a blanket? Probably not, but I don’t care. I throw my arms around Fischer’s neck and give him the tightest hug. “Thank you,” I whisper. “This might be the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
“You need better friends.”
When he pulls away and looks around the lobby with a furrowed brow, I get the sense that he doesn’t have anywhere to go.
I grab his hand. “Will you stay with me? I don’t think I can be alone right now.” I know how that sounds, and I know Fischer probably needs some time to himself, but I meant what I said. Still, I add a caveat in the hopes that it might convince him. “At least until I fall asleep.”
Eyes searching my face, he nods. “Okay.”
We settle side by side, backs against the wall and our shoulders pressed together.
Though Fischer looks as exhausted as I feel, maybe more so, I’m not ready to let the day end.
Since the moment we got into his car this morning, he’s been so different, like he’s finally willing to let his personality show in more than just texts, and I have a feeling that’s really good for him.
“You were incredible tonight, Micah,” he says, his eyes on my hand where it rests on my leg. He seems to be debating whether or not to take it.
I’m curious which he’ll end up doing. “You said that already.”
“No, I said you were amazing.”
“You were great too.”
He huffs a laugh. “You mean when I shouted at that ten-year-old when he asked for a place to charge his Nintendo?”
“In your defense, his mom already told him that there was nowhere to charge it,” I say with a grin.
He hasn’t taken my hand yet, so I reach over and grab his, relaxing when he slips his fingers between mine.
“Thank you. I know this isn’t your favorite thing.
” I squeeze his hand to tell him what I’m talking about.
He gives me that little half smile that I’ve come to love. “I don’t mind when you touch me,” he says with something that almost sounds like reverence. “Your touch is calming more than anything.”
Well that makes me melt. “Good.”
When I can’t stifle a yawn, Fischer chuckles and grabs a pillow, placing it on his lap. “Here.”
I stare at him. “What about you?”
“Just until you fall asleep. You did so much today, and I know it wasn’t easy for you.”
If he’s talking about my little panic attack, then yeah, it was a bit rough there for a second.
For most of my life, I’ve always had someone telling me what to do, and being completely in charge was overwhelming.
With so many people relying on me, I felt so alone.
At least until Fischer held me and thought to call my brother.
I hadn’t thought to call Chad at all tonight, which is stupid.
I should have called him as soon as it started snowing.
Resting my head on Fischer’s lap, I let him tuck a blanket over me as I settle into a comfortable position.
It’s still a hard floor, but I’m so exhausted that I don’t even care.
“I’m glad you were here with me. I like to think I could have handled it if you weren’t, but I still appreciate having someone in my corner. ”
“I’ll be in your corner as long as circumstances let me,” he says.
Does that mean he sees an expiration date to our friendship?
When the reopening is over, is that the last I’ll see of him?
I don’t like that. I’ve had more fun over the last couple of weeks with him than I ever could have expected, and I’ve been watching him slowly come back to life.
I mean, I got the man to smile today! Four times! He clearly needs me.
“What are you giggling about?” Fischer asks right before his hand slides into my hair to play with my curls.
Oh. Oh, I really like that, and the gentle strokes are so distracting that I almost forget what got me laughing. “I’m just thinking about how you would be lost without me,” I say. Then I shiver when his other hand rests on my arm, warm and comforting.
“You’re probably right,” he admits. “It’s nice to know you’re an incredibly humble person.”
I snort a laugh. “It’s definitely something I could work on.”
“No, you’re as close to perfect as they come.”
“That’s concerning. I thought humanity was better than that.”
He chuckles, and I can’t help but wonder what his laugh would sound like.
Is he always quiet and subtle? Or does he have a secret, belting guffaw that he’s embarrassed by?
Maybe he doesn’t know how to really laugh, or he forgot.
“I don’t know how you see the good in everything,” he says quietly.
“It’s inspiring. And maybe a little foolish. ”
I poke his leg, which is just as strong as the rest of him. Tempted to make him tell me his workout routine, I reluctantly stay on topic. “It’s not foolish. Seeing the best of things keeps me happy.”
“What about when you’re disappointed? Doesn’t your optimism make those moments worse?”
“I’ve never really thought about it,” I say honestly. “There’s always good to find in everything.”
“Even this? Being snowed in at a lodge with a bunch of frazzled strangers?”
I think about it for a second, determined to beat him at this strange game we’ve started playing. If he wants to fixate on the bad stuff, I’ll just have to counter it all with good. “We still got the event finalized, didn’t we?”
“It’s going to take a cleaning crew to get everything ready,” he points out.
“And we got to befriend Kenny.”
“I highly doubt Kenny wants anything to do with us after being stuck here all night.”
“I got to know you better. And see you smile.”
Thankfully he doesn’t have an argument for that, and we sit in silence for a bit while he continues to run his fingers through my hair.
Each touch sends sizzling heat from my head to my toes, and I have never been more comfortable than I am right now.
Still, I want to explain to him why I am the way that I am, even if he might look at me differently.