Far From Home

“No,” Taylor almost blurted out. “We’re just good friends.”

Her cheeks were bright red now, her eyes downcast. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought she had a thing for me, though she’d never mentioned it before.

And it’s probably for the same reason you never did.

No, the reason I never told her how I felt was because she was always dating someone else. That’s what I kept telling myself, anyway. In fact, I’d repeat it until my brain got the point. Taylor was off-limits.

“My mistake,” Brad said, his voice muffled as I tried to figure out what he hadn’t had the chance to say.

Taylor glared at her stepdad, then looked at me with a big smile on her face. “So what would you like to do today?”

I wiped my mouth with a napkin, then transported my plate to the sink. “No idea. I’m not familiar with the area, so it’s entirely up to you.”

“You should take her to the clubhouse,” Sue said, shooing me away when I tried to rinse off my plate. “Go on and sit, I can do this.”

I went to argue, but when Taylor dumped her things in the sink and asked me to join her, I didn’t object.

Once we were out of earshot, Taylor pulled me aside.

“Sorry about that.”

“About what?” Things seemed to have gone pretty well if you ask me.

“My folks are really pushing me for a long-term relationship,” Taylor said, oblivious to my thoughts. “I guess they thought—”

“It’s no problem, really,” I said as I did my best to alleviate some of her embarrassment. “Mine are the same way. ‘Sam, when are you ever going to settle? Sam, what about that nice girl down the street. Sam…’ It can get rather exhausting at times.”

“They mean well,” Taylor said to me as well as herself,

“but I wish they’d let me come to terms with it on my own.

The last relationship they pushed me into was a disaster, and we have a good thing, you know?”

“Sure do.” But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like more. I kept the last bit to myself, cursing my brain for ever thinking up such a thing. What we had was enough.

“Mom did make a good point, though,” Taylor said.

“Would you like to see the clubhouse?” She was already in the process of putting her coat on.

Following her example, I pulled on my jacket, then zipped it up until it almost reached my chin. “Sounds good to me, but a clubhouse? Really?”

“It isn’t what you’d expect.”

“No tea party, then?”

“I didn’t say that.” With a laugh, and after announcing we were going out to her folks, we stepped outside.

A light dusting of snow covered the ground, and at first, I couldn’t tell if it had all been from last night or if more had fallen this morning. Looking at Taylor’s car which was covered in a thin layer of ice, it seemed as though it was six of one and half a dozen of the other.

“Does it always snow for you on the holidays?” I asked, shoving my hands in my pockets as I stepped into place beside her.

“Usually, but the amount varies. Last year, I think we got eight inches. The year before we had over a foot. This year looks like it’ll mostly be ice, which really sucks.” Snow crunched under her shoes.

“Because of the roads?”

“That and the power lines. One year, the ice was so heavy, it weighed down the power lines until they snapped. We lost power for five days.”

“Oh god.” I could only imagine.