It was most likely the county guys with the plows, and that was probably for the best. The sooner the streets were clear, the sooner he could talk to Ransom. He was starting to think he didn’t even want to wait until tomorrow.
He opened the front door with his shirt still half unbuttoned, expecting to see a truck out on the street.
Instead, he saw that the road had already been plowed.
And there was a very familiar truck in the driveway.
Ransom?
Jensen’s best friend in the world stood by his truck, a cardboard drink holder with two coffees in one hand, and a paper bag in the other. Jensen was pretty sure that bag contained two egg sandwiches on hoagie rolls with plenty of ketchup.
Morning specials?
His heart surged with happiness at one more sign that Ransom still remembered the old days.
Maybe this friendship can survive my love for Willow…
But that dream was shattered instantly when he realized his friend was staring at Willow’s car in his driveway. The ancient station wagon was perfectly recognizable under the thin layer of last night’s snow.
“Ransom,” Jensen said softly.
Ransom’s eyes moved to him. He had forgotten until just that moment that he’d never finished buttoning his flannel. But Ransom’s eyes took in every detail.
“What’s going on here?” Ransom asked.
If he had roared or screamed, or even cursed, Jensenmight have felt better. But Ransom’s voice was colder than the winter air, and hard as steel.
Jensen knew he could say it wasn’t what it looked like, that Willow was only here for Henry, and that she’d gotten snowed in.
But the truth was, he wanted to put a ring on her finger and have her car in his driveway every night. Hewantedthis to be what it looked like, as soon as he could make it all happen the right way.
“Thisis what you wanted to talk to me about?” Ransom asked. “My babysister?”
“Maybe you should come in,” Jensen said, stepping aside.
For a frozen instant, Ransom just stared him down.
Then he was clomping his way to the front door, banging the snow off his boots on the top step and stomping into the house.
Jensen followed after him, saying a silent prayer for Willow and Henry to still be upstairs.
But the two of them were back in their nest by the Christmas tree. Willow had Henry in her lap along with a picture book they weren’t looking at anymore. Both of them gazed up at her unhappy brother with wide eyes.
Jensen breathed a sigh of relief that at least she was back in her own clothes.
“Willow.” The word was anger and defeat all at once, as if Ransom had still somehow hoped he’d come in here and find it wasn’t her car out there after all.
“I came by the other night because Henry was sick, and I got snowed in,” Willow said simply. “Are those morning specials?”
“If Henry’s sick, why are you calling my baby sister over here in a snowstorm?” Ransom said, turning to Jensen as if Willow hadn’t even spoken or didn’t deserve to be part of the conversation.
“I called her because she’s a really good nurse,” Jensen replied calmly. “And I value her advice.”
Ransom blinked at him for a second, as if he didn’t recognize that description of his sister.
“So you didn’t call her over here to tell her she should join NASA and go on the mission to Mars?” Ransom asked, recovering quickly. “Or maybe just fall for you instead?”
His sarcasm stung almost as much as the fact that he managed to make both possibilities seem equally dangerous and unlikely. And the mention of forgetting their pact hurt even more, since it was just about all Jensen had been thinking about lately.
