Page 17 of Unexpected Pickle

HEX NEVER WANTS TO LEAVE

T he next time Jeannie and I awaken, light streams through the windows.

We weren’t foolish enough to sleep naked, not without any power, but we’re curled together in the puddle of blankets and pillows by the fire.

“I think it’s stopped snowing,” she says, squinting at the bright pane of glass.

“Good morning, beautiful.” I kiss her eyes.

“Sorry, good morning,” she says. “I’m used to being very focused.”

I kiss the tip of her nose. “I like it.”

We each wrap in a blanket to move closer to the window. Snow has drifted high against the sides of the cabins. The sidewalks are completely gone.

“Their steam system can only keep nature at bay so long,” Jeannie says.

“I wonder if the door is snowed shut.” I press my cheek to the glass, but I can’t quite see our entry. The other cabins are piled high with snow, even beneath the overhangs. I’m assuming ours is too.

“How long do you think we could be trapped here?” Jeannie asks. That note of fear is back.

“Actually, with the storm over, I wouldn’t be surprised if we saw activity in the main building later today.”

“Really?”

“I’m sure they’re used to this. They have snow plows and things I’ve heard about in the news.” I draw her close to me. I don’t want her to be afraid.

“We really are two California beach bums,” she says. “I don’t know the first thing about being out in weather like this.”

She retreats to the sofa, digging through the snack bag for breakfast.

I head to the bathroom. “The water is still running!” I call.

“That’s good. I figured their pipes were prepared.”

I carry back two cups of water. We munch on protein balls and watch the fire.

“I guess we have to figure out how to pass the time,” Jeannie says.

I nuzzle her neck. “I have ideas.”

Those dimples appear. “I bet you do.”

And we give in, having little else to do, and so many new things to explore about each other. I want to hear all those glorious sounds she makes again.

I never want the hotel to reopen.

But we’re dozing in the late afternoon after a third round, when a BOOM, BOOM, BOOM pounds against the door.

We startle awake.

“Someone’s here,” Jeannie says, scrambling for her clothes. We did fall asleep naked this time.

I pull on my pants and a hoodie and head to the door. I peer through the peephole. Two men in dark uniforms stand on the porch.

I open the door cautiously. A cascade of white falls into the room. “We’re here,” I tell the men.

“Are you Hex?” the man asks.

“The one and only.”

“Your manager called us when he couldn’t get in touch with you.” He consults a notebook. “But this isn’t your cabin. Is Jeannie Young there with you?”

“She is. I think we’re the only ones left.”

“You’re both okay? The power went out last night.”

“We’re fine. We had firewood and food and water.”

He nods. “We’re here to escort you to a snowmobile. It’s going to be a few days before the roads out here get cleared. We had a bigger storm than expected. We need to evacuate you to a more populated area.”

I turn to the room. Jeannie is already frantically throwing things in her suitcase.

“I’ll need to get to my cabin to get my stuff.”

“We’ll wait.” He gestures behind them. There’s a pair of black-and-white rescue snowmobiles in the courtyard.

“Okay. I’m coming.”

I close the door and turn to Jeannie. Our time is already up. “Can I help?” I ask her.

“You go get your things,” she says. “I’ll meet up with you.”

I’m reluctant to let her go. “Can we stay together wherever we end up?”

She pauses in her packing. “Is that what you want?”

“Of course.” I stride over to her. “What do you think this is?”

She shrugs. “A hookup. A convenience. Maybe a weirdness because of the storm.” She forces out a laugh. “Sex and danger, right?”

I take the chef jacket she’s trying to fold and set it down to pull her close. I’m not sure she gets what I’m after, at all.

“I wasn’t in danger when I started coming to the deli. And it wasn’t a convenience when I took your crepes class. And I didn’t make an ass out of myself at a chef retreat for a hookup. Jeannie, I’ve been dreaming of this for months. We’re just getting started.”

“Are we?” Her words are muffled against my shoulder.

“We completely and totally are.”

She nods against my hoodie.

“Yes, you agree?”

She nods again.

“Yes, you’ll stay with me wherever they take us?”

Another nod.

“Good.” I stroke her silky hair. “And when we get hot water, I’m totally taking you in the shower.”

She laughs. “Okay.”

We meet up with several of the other chefs, who are all holed up in a hotel on the outskirts of Montreal, one owned by the same company as the Hotel Menagerie. It’s fun, taking over the kitchen after the restaurant closes down, making food.

Well, they do. I know better than to turn on a single burner.

Moreau isn’t with us. He found the hotel beneath him and left for a more upscale location. Good riddance. Without him around, Jeannie is much more relaxed. She makes me eggs with truffles and after one bite, I’m wishing I hadn’t passed up the one I could have cooked with on the first day.

When it’s time to fly home, I buy her a ticket in first class with me. She seems nervous about outing who we are back home, so I have her join a call with Max when we land in LAX.

“You made it out alive!” Max shouts into the speakerphone. “Is Jeannie with you?”

She leans in. “I’m right here.”

“Did Hex make a mess of everything?”

“He set my lunch on fire.” She grins at me.

“Oh, shit!”

We walk to a quieter spot at an unused terminal.

“So we have some news.” I hold Jeannie’s gaze, waiting for her approval.

She nods.

“Jeannie and I are giving this couple thing a try,” I say. “I’m probably not good enough for her.” I pause to laugh when she slugs my arm. “But so far, so good.”

Max clears his throat. “I see. Well, you’re definitely not good enough for her, but thanks for the heads-up. Jeannie, are you going to allow him in your kitchen?”

“Hell, no,” she says so quickly that Max and I both burst out laughing.

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” I tell him. “And thanks, Max. I owe you.”

I end the call.

“Thanks for what?” Jeannie asks.

“He’s the one who got me into the retreat.” We head toward baggage claim, my hand pressed low on Jeannie’s back.

“So he was your wingman for this whole thing?”

“Pretty much.”

“Huh.” We pause to let a family pass by. “Do you think he’ll let me take off to go to Vegas for your next big fight?”

She wants to come? My heart soars. “You could always quit.”

“Quit the deli?”

“This is the big time. The fighters are always looking for chefs and nutrition help. There will be work, and athletes at this level can afford to pay for it.”

She draws her eyebrows together as we walk along the shops. “It’s something to think about.”

“Don’t tie it to me. I’ll get you started. Then, no matter what happens with us, it’s your baby. Give good ol’ Eat Play Win a run for their money.”

“Actually, that company is throwing a lot of contracts around. I ought to contact them, especially since they tried to sponsor the retreat. It means they’re looking for chefs.”

“See, you’re figuring it out already.”

She seems thoughtful. “Maybe I am.”

I squeeze her hand. “Maybe we’re figuring it out together .”