An unexpected snowstorm brings about a surprise reunion when two young men find themselves at the mercy of nature's whim.
Jesse Ostermann's scenic detour in the family's new motorcar becomes treacherous when snowflakes start to fall. But a gallant savior shows up to offer assistance. Memories and longings are rekindled as the two hunker down against the howling winds in an Annapolis blanketed in white.
Jesse held up the earpiece. He jiggled the hook. “Hello? Hel -- Oh, Operator? Could you connect me with ...” He looked to Fig. He mouthed the word “name.”
“Dunphy,” Fig said. “Gerald Dunphy. Over on Glenwood.”
“Gerald Dunphy on Glenwood,” Jesse parroted back. “Yes, that’s right.” Jesse stepped over and handed the earpiece and base to Fig. “When he answers just ask --”
“Yeah,” Fig said. “I get this part.” He smirked.
As Fig spoke into the phone, Jesse headed over and retrieved their empty cocoa mugs. He walked into the kitchen and placed the mugs in the sink. He wondered if he should make more cocoa. Maybe Fig would want a snack. Or dinner. What could he make them for dinner that wouldn’t end up charred or a boiled-over mess? He pulled open a couple of cabinet doors to find jars of preserves, a sack of flour, various tins of ingredients he wouldn’t have the first clue what to do with.
“All set,” Fig said. “I owe Mr. Dunphy a farm and two horses for forcing him to bundle up and trek over to my grandma’s, but at least they’ll know I’ll be safe the night.”
Jessed folded his arms. “Oh, staying the night, are we?”
“Seems so, doesn’t it?” Fig gestured toward the window with mock emphasis. “Might be staying an entire week if this keeps up.”
Jesse raised a brow. “Oh? And how do you propose to earn your keep?”
“You’ll have to decide that.”
Silence hung between them. Fig smiled. He shook his head.
“What?” Jesse said.
“That resemblance of yours to Wes.”
“You keep saying that and I --”
“But damn, Jesse, you’re even better looking. If he ever ribs you, you can tell him that you’ve got the superiority over his dull face.”
“You really think I’m more handsome than my brother? My brother? The Apollo on Earth?”
“Well, yeah. I guess I just said so, didn’t I?”
“Should we confirm it with planchette?”
Fig whistled and looked toward the ceiling. “You had to bring that old planchette up again, didn’t you? Will I ever live down that embarrassment?”
Jesse threw up his hands. “Ooo, ooo -- I’m Fig! I’m soooo scared of a little bitty doorbell. I wish that I --” But before he could finish his sentence, he felt Fig’s hands clutch onto his arms.
“You better think twice about ever telling anyone that story,” Fig said.
They both jockeyed for the upper hand, twisting around each other, sliding back and forth across the kitchen floor, backing into the pantry door, spinning around and pushing each other along the countertop. Fig clutched Jesse harder, and as he tried to force him upright, Jesse’s feet slipped out from beneath him. He lost his balance and fell into Fig, causing Fig to slam against the mud room wall.
They were so close they could feel each other’s breath on their faces.
Fig made an odd sound, as if his something caught in his throat. And in less than the blink of any eye, Fig pressed his lips against Jesse’s.
