Page 61 of My Vampire Plus-One

I hadn’t this time, though. I’d been too distracted.

“No. I mean…yes.” I shook my head and tried again. “Yes, I mean to tell you that, no, I haven’t checked the weather.”

“You should probably do it now,” he said, mildly.

One hand still on the steering wheel, I pulled my phone from my purse. And saw a long string of texts from Dad.

DAD:Looks like a storm coming

DAD:Not too concerned. Looks like it won’t hit until tomorrow

DAD:Be careful on the drive up though just in case. We’ll see you tonight

DAD:Tell your young man I’m bringing the WWI documentary I told him about

I flushed at the reference tomy young manbut was relieved to hear Dad thought everything would be fine.

“My dad is the most weather-obsessed person I know, and he’s not worried,” I said. “If he looked at the forecast and thought it was safe to drive, I’m sure it’s fine.”

Reggie shrugged. “If that’s what the history professor thinks, that’s good enough for me.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “He’s bringing a World War I documentary along on the trip. He wanted me to let you know.”

“Marvelous,” Reggie said, grinning. “I can’t wait to tell him what a jackoff Franz Ferdinand was.”

•••••••

It started snowing when wewere about thirty minutes away from the cabin. Just flurries, and nothing that interfered with my driving. But Reggie frowned, looking up at the sky through the passenger-side window.

He rummaged around in his bag for his phone. From my peripheral vision, I could see him grimacing when he pulled up the weather app.

“Um. Amelia?” He dragged a hand through his hair. “When did your father say the blizzard was supposed to start?”

He sounded uneasy. My stomach dropped. “Tomorrow.”

“Well, I’ve got good news and bad news,” he said, sounding like all he actually had was bad news. “Which would you like first?”

I gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Can I have the good news first?”

“Certainly.” The snow was coming down a little heavier than it had been just moments earlier. “The good news is we won’t have to wait until tomorrow to build a snowman.”

I gritted my teeth. This was not happening. “When will we be able to build one?”

“If the meteorologists who live inside my phone are to be believed—and I have no reason to think they are untrustworthy—probably in a few hours,” he replied. “By tomorrow we’ll be able to build a snowarmy.”

DAD:Hey hon

DAD:I just checked the weather forecast and it’s worse than I thought

DAD:I don’t think we’re going to be able to make it up

DAD:Sam and Adam and the kids haven’t left yet either

DAD:I’m encouraging them to stay home

DAD:Mom is on the phone with Aunt Sue and it looks like they’re all staying home too.

I closed my eyes and rested my forehead on the steering wheel, forcing myself to breathe in and out. I counted to ten before replying to Dad’s texts.