Home Alone
When I had packedfor the week, I hadn’t intended to spend much time in the snow. I had a pair of jeans, some thermal underwear, and a pair of loose-fitting joggers. The most outdoorsy I had planned to get was to take a walk at some point every day. And for that, I could get by with what I’d brought. Completing a ridiculous game of ultimate bingo was something neither my wardrobe nor I was prepared for. However, I figured that the more underdressed I was for the occasion, the less I’d be forced to participate, which was why, when Miles found me at lunch later that afternoon, wearing jeans and a sweatshirt underneath my white parka, I couldn’t help but smile.
“What is that?” he asked, his eyes on my legs as I made my way toward him. Miles was setting out a large package of water bottles on a serving table brimming with sandwich fixings, chips, and salads. He was definitely dressed for the weather, wearing heavy black snow pants and a puffy down jacket over a green flannel shirt. The first couple buttons of his flannel were left undone with a white undershirt of some sort peeking out from underneath. His usual gray beanie was missing from the ensemble, and my eyes couldn’t stop from trailing up to his rumpled brown mop. It looked like he had been wearing his beanie but yanked it off before coming into the lodge. It gave him a charming, boyish look that I needed to forget existed.
“This is the best I’ve got for an impromptu snow day.”
He stared at me in disbelief. “You came to a winter lodge with no snow pants?”
I lifted up my leg. “I brought boots,” I said cheerily. There was something about disarming him that was beginning to be rather addictive to me.
He rolled his eyes. His hand found my back and propelled me toward the paper plates. “Grab your lunch and find us a table. I’ll meet you there in a minute. We need to go over the calendar to make sure we don’t miss anything for the blackout.”
“Oh, yay,” I mumbled as I quickly filled my plate.
Miles soon joined me at our table. The lodge had been slowly filling up with people, though I hadn’t seen Chloe or Ben yet. I should have texted her and told her I was headed to the lodge, but I had been so flustered after Miles left that I hadn’t given it a thought. My mom and Russ walked in, holding hands and laughing about something. I immediately turned away as Miles placed the bingo paper on the table between us.
“What kind of sandwich did you get?”
I glanced down at my food. “Ham and cheese.”
“Looks good.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Thanks?”
“Dare I say, those hams look…delicious?”
I elbowed him in the stomach and picked up the bingo card.
“Did you bring a swimming suit?” he asked a few moments later.
“Why would I have done that?”
He took a bite of his sandwich, which was mostly roast beef with a few slabs of cheddar hanging off the sides. “It says there’s a hot tub right on the brochure.”
“Well, Millie tricked me into coming here, and I never saw a brochure. Besides, hot tubbing in the winter in Vermont just doesn’t sound like a good time to me.”
“Trust me, that hot tub’s going to feel mighty good after diving into the frozen pond.”
Immediately, my palms began to sweat. “Miles. I can’t do that. Can we…trade that one in for something else?”
He turned and faced me as I took a bite. “Just think of how awesome you’ll feel once you’ve done it. I say we do it tonight—before you catch that fake stomach bug.”
My eyes widened as panic immediately filled my body. “What? No. Why? I…don’t even have a swimsuit.”
“We shook on it. I’m pretty sure my sister has one she left at my parents’ house. I’ll find it for you.”
“I can’t do that. I’m serious. I know this is just another adrenaline-rush thing for you, but I promise it will break me.”
His finger found my lips, stopping my panic-induced babbling. My eyes were locked on his, which prevented me from swatting him away like an annoying bug. “Just think, the polar plunge is the hardest thing on that list. Once we get that crossed off, you’re home free.”
He removed his finger and whispered, “If we do the snowman and the polar plunge today, you can pick what we do tomorrow.” He nudged the bingo card to sit in front of me.
“So generous of you,” I said lightly, picking the card up to examine it, forcing myself to examine the other items on the list. To my surprise, there were a few things that I wouldn’t completely hate.
“Gingerbread house competition,” I said.
Miles wrinkled his nose and looked at the card once more. “Of course you’d pick the lamest thing on there. I think they’re doing that on Monday.”