Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Randall
I’d heard the bus arrive and had meant to head out of the sad little room at the bus station to meet my friend’s son and help him with his bags, but the weather app on my phone had me distracted and worried.
I’d likely not have paid any attention to it, except Austin’s mother had called an hour earlier, concerned that we wouldn’t be able to travel.
I was so absorbed in the information on my screen that I only cursorily noted someone entering the building.
When he finally spoke, I looked up to see that he was the sole rider to enter the depot, with a backpack, a duffle bag over one arm, and a drawstring bag slung over his shoulder as if he were Santa Claus. He also held a large shopping bag emblazoned with the emblem for Hampstead University.
He didn’t look at all like Martin, but I could tell right away this was Stephanie’s child.
He had her soft features, blond hair, and light-brown eyes.
He wore a maroon-colored puffy jacket and jeans that fit him just right, and ratty sneakers that in no way would protect him from the storm that was already brewing outside.
His head was uncovered. He needs a hat and a scarf, I thought, and a good pair of boots.
He approached and may have stretched out his hand in greeting, but I was distracted, first by the weather app, then by the man himself, the way he took me in from head to toe as if he liked what he was seeing.
That look made me realize that I was picturing the child of my oldest friends as much younger, which made no sense, because practically, I knew, I was meeting a man who was about to graduate college and begin medical school.
And yet some subconscious part of me had pictured someone much younger.
Before me stood a handsome, confident adult.
Before I could process that enough to meet his outstretched hand, a warning blared on both of our phones. The emergency alert about the storm may have been a distraction, but my instincts told me that reaching out and touching this handsome young man’s hand was a bad idea.
We were discussing the surprise onslaught of the storm when my phone began to ring.
Austin’s open, warm smile was the only thing that reminded me of his father, and that man did not have a smile in his tone when I answered my phone, “Randall Glenn.”
“Fuck, man, it’s already coming down. Did Aus make it to you okay?”
“He did, he’s here, but …”
“Look,” Martin interrupted softly. “This storm came out of nowhere. They said we wouldn’t see it until tomorrow; instead, I’m looking at a radar map that shows it all the way up to you already.
It’s crazy, and I’m really sorry I roped you into this, but I don’t think you two should try to travel tonight. I know it’s a lot to ask …”
“It’s not too much to ask, Martin. It only just started snowing here. We’re just a few minutes from my cabin. I’ll take Austin home, and we’ll wait it out there. We’ve got time before Christmas Eve. I’ll get your son home to you.”
“Thank you, Randy. You’re a good friend. I’m glad neither of you will be stuck up there alone.”
Alone. I’d been mostly alone since I got settled in my new home.
I’d been in Boston and near New York City before that and had hated the crowds and the hustle and bustle.
I’d been thrilled when I could finally begin working from home.
It had been six months, and I hadn’t had a single guest at my cabin in the woods.
Austin had joked about coming back to ski, and I was so taken aback at his quip, not because I minded, but because it was the first time that the thought occurred to me that I truly was spending all my time alone.
My relationship with David may have been strained, but I’d shared a home with him for years.
I’d even had a few friends in London, mainly people I knew from work and their friends.
I had thought I wanted an isolated cabin in the woods, but between Austin inviting himself to ski and Martin cajoling me to spend the holidays with them, I realized
that maybe I was in fact spending too much time alone.
That should have made the notion of my first house guest a welcome one, and yet my alarm bells were chiming as I pictured Austin in my space.
I looked at him, and he rolled his eyes at me as if to communicate that he was suffering through whatever his mother was telling him, but I still visualized him as he’d been when I first looked at him: like a man who was checking me out and liked what he saw.
Had this been any other man, even a young man half my age, I may have returned the look, but this was Martin and Stephanie’s son. I had a feeling that having my first house guest was going to be more of a challenge than anything else.
I wrapped up with Martin as I heard Austin whisper, “I know, Mom. Mom, I won’t. Mom! Seriously, I know enough not to leave clothes on the bathroom floor at someone else’s house!”
He looked at me and smiled apologetically, rolling his eyes again, having caught me listening.
“Mom … Mom … Mom!” He smiled in earnest now, and his whole face lit up like a Christmas tree with a secret, his eyebrows rising to highlight what he was about to say.
His voice rose in urgency, and he bleated, “It’s really coming down now.
” He was looking at me as he said it, and I was fairly sure he had not looked out the depot’s lone window to confirm his statement. “We really have to go!”
I took that as a cue and worked my way around Austin, his body turning and his gaze still on me as I headed to the entrance and opened the door of the depot, holding it open for him to maneuver out with his bags and the phone still to his ear.
Another apologetic smile passed his lips as he walked toward me and out the door, a blast of icy air hitting us both. I could hear Stephanie through the phone. “And thank Randall for us, sweety. Everyone says this storm came out of nowhere. I’m sorry you two are stuck there.”
“Okay, Mom. It’s okay. … Love you too.”
The snow hadn’t really picked up that much, but the open door let in a blast of wind that had us both putting our heads down.
I hit the remote start on my car as soon as we rounded the corner of the building.
It wouldn’t do much good, but at least we’d have a little head start in getting the car warm and the accumulation melted.
I’d been in Mount Pheasant for a few months, so this wasn’t my first snowstorm, but I hadn’t done much driving in London; David always drove if we took the car, and since I preferred to spend my time in the city, driving or owning a car were not things I was interested in.
I’d retained enough of the skills to renew my American driver’s license upon my return, but I considered myself a novice driver in general and a downright poor driver in the snow, having managed to plan around and avoid it until that very day.
We both tucked our phones in our jacket pockets as we continued to walk briskly toward my SUV, the only one in the lot.
I came astride Austin and grabbed the satchel from his shoulder.
He hesitated as if he was going to fight to hang onto it, but another snowy blast had us both practically running to the vehicle.
We tossed his bags in the back alongside my suitcase before I opened the passenger door for him. He gave me an odd look before stuttering out a “thank you” and climbing in. I saw him reach his hand out and retract it quickly when he realized I was closing the door for him.
I ran to the driver’s side and clambered in, snow melting and dripping down my neck as I did so.
I wiggled a little to rub my back against the seat, chasing the drip as it tickled its way down my spine.
I could sense my guest eyeing me, so I turned a shy quirk of my lip toward him.
He really did have a smile that lit up his whole face, somewhat like his father’s but more grounded, less playful.
This was a future medical doctor, his father had informed me, and not the goofy undergrad I had known so long ago.
“Sorry.” I shrugged. “I can’t stand that feeling. This one tiny, ice-cold drip slithering its way down my back.” I let out a performative shiver, but it was so cold in the SUV that it turned real, and my arms jutted involuntarily.
I pressed a button on my side of the consol, then pointed to an identical one on his side. “Heated seat, if you’d like.” He pulled a glove off with his teeth and pressed the button before extending his hand my way.
“Hi!” he laughed. “Austin Lessand, Martin and Stephanie’s son.
It’s nice to finally meet you, and thank you for doing this.
Not what you bargained for, huh? A college student”—he looked down and mumbled though he said it clearly enough to be heard—“and his dirty laundry …” He looked back up, his eyes alight, ”. .. invading your space.”
I tilted my head his way, pulling off my own glove to meet his hand.
It was surprisingly warm and sent a shock through me that was much more pleasant than the dripping snow had been.
I had to work to keep my reaction off my face as I hissed a fake concerned look instead. “And we won’t even get to ski.”
We were still holding hands and shaking slowly. He’d reacted to my stern look and let out a wonderful laugh when he realized I was joking. His grip tightened ever so slightly as he said, “Another time, maybe.”
I laughed in turn.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Austin, and no bother at all.” I finally released his hand. It was an act that should have been rote but instead felt like the most difficult task I had accomplished in a long time.