She plops down on the edge of my bed. “Instead we’ll be here, tucked up in our slightly scary trucker beds. I don’t think they’ve updated the bedspreads in here since the 50s. At least they seem clean.”
“Hopefully the storm will be over soon, and by morning the phone lines will be back up and the roads will be cleared.”
Melissa cocks her head at me. “Look at you, being all Positive Polly on me. I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“What can I say? I’m an enigma.”
I round my bed and lie down on it, and she turns to sit cross-legged facing me.
“No, you’re not.”
I roll onto my side and prop myself up on my elbow facing her. “Have my actions not confused you today?”
“I guess they have.”
“Enigma.”
“You think I’m an enigma, too.”
“I do.” I seriously can’t figure her out. “You truly seem liketwo different people—one person at work and another outside of work.”
“Aren’t most people like that?” she asks.
I roll onto my back and clasp my hands behind my head. “I’m not.”
“True. You’re a jerk no matter where you are.” She smiles, but her words pierce me.
I bite the inside of my cheek. “Am I really always a jerk?”
“At work? Yes. To the Hamilton brothers and their ladies? Not that I’ve noticed, and I can’t imagine Ash and Randall would put up with you being a jerk to Leslie and Wendy. Were you a jerk today? Not really. Well, you were a little jerkish with the lady at the airport, and maybe every once in a while since then. But mostly no.”
I look away from her. “I’m trying to do better.” I don’t know why I told her that, but it’s true. And little does she know it was all instigated by my desire for her to like me, and not just in a romantic way, but as a friend. Last summer, Ash pointed out my tendency to act like a grumpy jerk—even outside of work and specifically in relation to Melissa—and I’ve been trying to change. It’s been a slow process, though.
When she doesn’t respond, I look back over at her, and her gaze has noticeably softened. She opens her mouth to say something when the room plunges into darkness.
After a few seconds of silence, Melissa says, “I guess we’re not going to be playing cards.”
Much to my surprise, I laugh, and she joins in.
“You have a flashlight or candles in any of your twelve bags?” I ask.
“I have some matches,” she says, “but it’s going to be a chore to find them.”
“Why do you have matches? Are you a secret smoker?” I really hope she’s not.
“Nope. I have them for … uh … well, they help remove smells … in the bathroom.”
I smile into the darkness. “Ah.”
“Uh-huh.”
I bet if I could see her, her cheeks would be red.
“I don’t think I’ve ever experienced complete darkness like this before,” she says. Since it’s now nighttime, and snow is still falling, there’s not even any light filtering through the small gap in the curtains. “It’s disconcerting.”
“That’s an understatement,” I say. “Do you know which bag the matches are in and where that bag is?”
“They’re in one of my toiletry bags. I think in the one that’s in the bathroom. Let me see if I can make my way in there.”
