8. Joy
JOY
After her nap, Joy wasn’t sure if she would be able to sleep that night at all. But she found herself bouncing awake, well rested, while the world outside the windows was still so dark that she thought at first it was the middle of the night. A glance at her phone showed that it was 6:30, which felt too early to get up on vacation, but she didn’t think she could go back to sleep. She wondered if Bar was up yet.
Joy got her toiletry bag and took a blessedly hot shower. She dressed in jeans and a sweater, and tied back her damp hair, then peeked into Leah’s room through the cracked-open bathroom door. Her sister was a still blanket-covered lump, and it looked like she was going to stay that way for a while.
Joy collected her coat from the closet before going downstairs, just in case she wanted to go outside without needing to go upstairs to get it. Then she went looking for breakfast and Bar, not necessarily in that order.
She slowed as she came to the big front staircase with its huge windows overlooking the lodge grounds. The snow had stopped during the night, and a streak of dawn light was now showing in the sky, illuminating the fresh white blanket that covered everything. She could barely even identify her car, except by remembering where she had parked. The fairy lights were muffled in snow. It gave a Christmas morning mood to the world, and Joy felt a little thrill at the sight.
She was so focused on the world outside the windows that she didn’t notice Bar until she was already downstairs. He was in front of the door, putting on the long black wool coat she remembered so vividly from yesterday.
“Good morning.” He smiled at her, and oh, Joy’s insides were very, very weak for that smile. “I was just going out to brush the snow off my car. I can do yours while I’m out there, if you like.”
“No need; I’ll come with you. If you don’t mind?”
If she didn’t know better, she’d say that he was now beaming that smile at her. “I’d love the company.”
Pleased for her foresight, Joy put on her coat. She was already wearing her low snowboots, as she’d brought no other footwear. Bar opened the door for them both, and they stepped out onto the lodge’s wide porch.
The world was hushed and still, with a smell to the air that Joy couldn’t put a name to. Clean and fresh, it might be the smell of the snow itself. She didn’t remember ever being out in the country after a snowfall. Snow as she knew it was beautiful, covering fences and porches and roofs, but there was something staggering about the immense whiteness of snow that hadn’t been driven on or touched.
She couldn’t get over how quiet it was. When they went down the steps, the scrunching of their feet on the snow was the only sound.
There was at least a foot of snow, spilling over the tops of her boots and making cold damp patches on the shins of her jeans. Both of their cars were vaguely vehicle-shaped contours under a form-fitting white cotton blanket. Bar swept the snow off the truck door with a gloved hand, but when he opened it, a cascade of snow sifted down from the roof on the new leather seats, making him laugh ruefully.
“Victory at a slight cost,” he said, brandishing a brand new long-handled snow brush.
Joy retrieved her own from the backseat of her car with similar difficulty. Hers was several years old, with the plastic brush so worn that it was sticking out in all directions like a frayed toothbrush. The handle used to telescope, but now it was stuck halfway out.
Still, she vigorously worked on the car while Bar swept off the truck with long swipes of the brush.
“Did you sleep okay?” Bar asked.
“Like a baby. I was out as soon as my head touched the pillow. You?”
“A lot better than I was expecting. The bed’s really comfortable.”
“I guess Hester couldn’t quite bring herself to ruin that,” Joy said, laughing.
Bar snorted. By now they were both nearly done, enthusiasm and her car’s much smaller size helping make up for the difference in implements and arm length.
“Got it?” Bar asked, giving his hood a last swipe.
“Yes, thank you—though if you wouldn’t mind doing the top?”
He did, and Joy scraped her driver’s side windshield. Now that the cars were swept off, they could theoretically go anywhere if they needed to—but looking around, she wondered if she could actually drive through this much snow before it was plowed. She wasn’t even sure if the truck could.
Seeing what she was looking at—the trackless snow in the parking lot—Bar laughed. “I guess we’re snowed in, huh?”
“I could think of worse times for it.”
The snow wasn’t completely trackless, she noticed. A single pair of footprints went from the door, across the parking lot, and over to a group of outbuildings. Joy looked at Bar and he smiled in the way that made her stomach flip over, and lifted his shoulders in a brief shrug.
“I wouldn’t mind knowing exactly how snowed in we are. Come on, let’s go see who’s up and whether know if there are any plans to plow soon.”
They walked to the outbuildings, close together, but Joy wasn’t feeling brave enough to try holding hands just yet.
“Are you going anywhere?” she asked.
“No, but I don’t like the feeling of literally not being able to.”
Joy wondered if she really minded all that much. It was nice, in a way, to have the choice taken out of her hands, especially since she was stuck with Bar.
Bar .... and half a dozen people who hated him, including her sister. Possibly not the best recipe for a romantic weekend retreat.
They found Mauro shoveling the paths around the lodge, wearing heavy work pants, a T-shirt, and gloves; his arms and head were bare, and his skin glistened, steam huffing out with every breath.
“Morning,” he said. His friendliness was muted, directed more to Joy than Bar, it seemed. But at least he didn’t erupt into open hostility.
“Hi,” Joy said. “It looks like we’re snowed in.”
“Not too badly,” Mauro said. He nodded to the snow-covered trees around them. “Power’s still on, though we have a generator in case a tree falls and takes the lines down. The county will have plows out on the mountain roads by afternoon, and Doreen’s ma—er, husband will be up with his truck a bit later to do some plowing around the yard. You folks doing okay for everything you need?”
“I think we’re all set,” Joy said. “I was wondering about breakfast.”
“Hester is planning on a hot buffet everyone’s up. If you don’t want to wait, there’s cold cereal and bread for toast in the kitchen. But if you don’t mind putting it off a little, I’ll give you a tip.” Mauro glanced up at the sky. “The sun will be up in twenty minutes or so, and if you walk up the hill behind the lodge, you’ll get an amazing view with the fresh snow. There are snowshoes in the shed if you need them, but the path was pretty well broken out before the storm, so you shouldn’t have too much trouble.”
He pointed the path out to them. “Thank you!” Joy told him.
Mauro smiled, and the expression was even genial enough to include Bar. “No problem. There should be a hot breakfast waiting when you get back. I don’t think you’re in too much danger of getting lost on a short walk, but if you have any trouble, either retrace your steps or just sit tight and wait for us. If you’re not back in an hour or so, I’ll come looking for you.”
They tried the path and decided it would be all right without snowshoes. Joy didn’t want to mess with those; she had never worn snowshoes, wasn’t sure how much it would slow them down, and the light was growing around them all the time. The idea of watching a mountain sunrise, especially with Bar, filled her with delight.
The path behind the lodge climbed steeply. As they slogged through the snow, Joy leading and Bar slightly behind her, an occasional branch let go of its load of snow somewhere near them. That, and their footsteps and breathing, were very nearly the only sounds she heard.
They had just reached a place where the path leveled out and Joy nearly stumbled against a snow-covered bench when the sun rose abruptly over the edge of the world. Turning, Joy gave a little gasp. The lodge was below them, its buildings spread out in a horseshoe shape surrounded by the glittering fairy lights on the trees. The road could be seen as a white ribbon of clear space, little more than a gap in the trees, winding away below. Everywhere around them, the snow was pink and gold, lit with the rays of the rising sun.
Joy became aware that Bar had come up behind her and was standing so close he could have touched her. She leaned back until she felt his chest solid against her back. Bar hesitated, then cautiously put his arms around her, encircling her in a cozy embrace.
“That’s beautiful,” Bar murmured.
His lips were so near her ear that his breath stirred her hair. Joy tilted her head. He was taller than her by seven or eight inches. Looking up, she saw the sun gilding his dark hair. He was hatless, seeming unaffected by the cold.
Joy knew that she and her sister tended to run hot, compared to the humans they were generally around, but Bar was warmer yet; she saw why he hadn’t been too bothered by the cold in the lodge yesterday.
“You’re really a dragon?” she asked spontaneously.
Bar smiled; she could only see his eyes, his mouth hidden by her hair and the hood of her coat, but the warmth was evident. “Yes. I can show you later, but right now I think we’d better get back down to the lodge for breakfast.”
“You’re right,” Joy said. “Hester might suddenly find she only has enough eggs for two instead of three.”
Bar laughed. “She’s all right. I don’t mind.”
“I do,” Joy said. She turned around, and suddenly they were face to face, and his arms were still around her. “I don’t like that passive-aggressive nonsense. If she has a problem with you, she ought to just say so.”
“She did say so,” Bar pointed out mildly. “Loudly and often.” He was looking down at her, his hands resting lightly on her waist and the small of her back. “But is Hester really who you want to be thinking about right now?”
“No,” she breathed, looking up into his face.
Their lips met. Hers were cold from the chilly air; his were superficially cold, but his mouth was warm, almost hot, and Joy felt herself sag dazedly forward as he kissed her with an intensity she had never experienced before. Her knees wobbled and her ears rang. She lost the ability to think. Dimly she was aware that her entire body had swayed into his.
When they finally surfaced for air, she became aware that Bar had one hand on her waist and the other on the side of her face, fingers lightly parting her hair.
“That was amazing,” she murmured.
Bar gently ran his fingers through her hair. His face, lit by the newly risen sun, was full of wonder and delight.
The sudden growling of her stomach broke the moment. She pulled away, and they both laughed.
“Shame we didn’t bring something to eat with us,” Bar said as they reluctantly started down the hillside again. “It would be a lovely spot for a picnic.”
“Little bit cold, though.”
“I can do something about that.”
On the walk down, he took her hand, and her fingers nestled snugly in his as if they were meant to be there, warming up nicely against his skin.
The walk down was faster than the walk up, and it felt like only minutes later when they came out behind the lodge. There were delicious cooking smells on the air.
“Breakfast,” Joy said rapturously, and she sped up, pulling Bar along by the hand.
There was nothing like a walk in the cold to wake up a vigorous appetite.