Chapter Eighteen
Charlotte
Charlotte had a hard time settling down to study after he left. Her entire body tingled. Yes, going out with Luke had been a good idea. She’d had fun, but there was more to it. The pull between them was too intoxicating to ignore. She’d brushed the same strand of hair for three minutes, lost in the memory of his hands on her body. She wanted more.
The next morning, Evangeline cornered her in the back. “Okay, what happened? You’re walking around in a fog. Was he that good?”
Charlotte’s face flushed. “Wouldn’t know. Yet.”
“Yet? Does that mean there will be a yet?” Evangeline gave Charlotte’s arm a little shake. “Tell me.”
“I’m pretty sure we’ll have a sleepover tonight.” Sleepover. That sounds like we’re ten. “At least, I hope so.”
“Oooh. I need to check on table ten before they start yelling, but don’t forget to shave your legs, got it?”
Charlotte rolled her eyes at Evangeline’s back. “I’ve done this before.”
“Done what?” Mr. Bzdyl appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel.
Charlotte jumped. Did he hear any of that? “Um…flown home out of Aspen. I’m driving to the airport tomorrow. Is that still okay?”
“Eh, it’s fine.” He smiled. “You should be with your family, yes?”
“Yes.” Charlotte had gotten a worrying text from Emily the night before, who insisted everything was just fine, okay? Except it sounded pretty far from it.
Mr. Bzdyl frowned. “But, I don’t know about the weather. Maybe you should leave today, avoid a blizzard.”
“I checked the weather. It’ll be fine.” Mostly. There was a chance of snow tomorrow, but planes flew out of Aspen in the snow all the time. She was lucky to have gotten the one direct flight by booking early, too. She’d make it home.
By two, when they closed, though, fat flakes started falling. Evangeline watched the window, her movements tense.
Charlotte went to her. “What is it?”
“I need to turn on the news.” Evangeline went to the TV in the corner and flipped to The Weather Channel. They were showing Colorado, and the meteorologist was making excited gestures. “Damn it. I hate it when Dad’s right. He has a sixth sense about blizzards.”
“B-blizzard?” Charlotte grabbed the remote out of Evangeline’s hand and turned up the volume.
“I can’t stress enough—this storm is going to be dangerous. Aspen and surrounding areas are looking at up to fourteen inches of snow overnight. Stay off the roads and suspend travel if possible.”
Charlotte’s phone rang. “Hello?”
“Roo? It’s Dad.”
The hair on her arms rose at the timing. He must be thinking the same thing. “I guess you’re watching the weather?”
“I am, and it’s not looking good.”
Charlotte squeezed her eyes shut against an influx of tears. “Dad, I’m leaving now. I’ll drive down.”
“You need to stay where you are, Roo. We’ll be fine. I hate that we can’t see you.” She could hear the strain in her dad’s voice, and he paused to clear his throat. “But I want you safe, and that means staying in Aspen. We’ll plan another visit in a few days. Will that be okay?”
“But you need me.” She hated how her voice wavered. “Emily and Mom need me.”
“We do, but not so much that you end up in a ditch on the side of the highway trying to drive down here. Please, stay there.”
Charlotte sank into a chair, dimly aware that Mr. and Mrs. Bzdyl had come out of the kitchen to stand by Evangeline. They were all staring at her. “Okay, Dad. I will. Please hug everyone for me.”
“Of course. We love you, Roo. We’ll call tomorrow, check in.”
“Love you, too. Bye.”
She ended the call and put a hand over her mouth. She couldn’t go home. Charlotte looked up at Mr. Bzdyl. “But the weather was supposed to be fine. Only a forty percent chance of snow. How’d this happen?”
He sighed and pulled out a chair to sit next to her. Taking her hands in his, he smiled sadly. “In Poland, you know a big snow is coming by how the air smells. The air this morning was shouting blizzard. These weathermen, what do they know? Lots of them come from places where it doesn’t snow much, so they don’t listen to the wind. They just look at their computers, which are wrong more than they’re right, yes?”
Charlotte nodded, too choked up to talk.
“I’m sorry, lovely Charlotte. You should come home with us. We may not open tomorrow, so come have Christmas with us. We’ll have traditional dinner: mushroom soup, dumplings, noodles with cabbage, sausages. It’ll be so delicious.”
Charlotte looked into his kind eyes, wondering if she should go. It did sound good, but part of her wanted to stay here. There was plenty of food in the café storage, and being alone when she was hurting sounded better. Besides, she really needed to study.
But none of those excuses would work with the Bzdyls. “I’m going to stay here. It’s possible some crazy people will show up in the morning, and I can make coffee at the least. Plus, ski patrol might be on avalanche duty. I can make them rolls.”
Mr. Bzdyl’s expression was like a sad basset hound’s. “Oh, Charlotte. You don’t have to be by yourself. No one will come tomorrow.”
Evangeline put a hand on her father’s shoulder, eyeing Charlotte. “Let her stay here, Dad. She needs time alone, to rest.”
Charlotte shot her a grateful look. How did her best friend always just know? “Is it okay if I eat some of the café food?”
“Anything you want.” Mr. Bzdyl stood and kissed the top of her head. “There’s extra firewood behind the shop if the power goes out, and you know where the batteries are for the flashlights.”
She nodded, feeling weary. “Why don’t you go on home while the roads are passable. I’ll clean up everything.”
Mrs. Bzdyl took Mr. Bzdyl’s hand. “Come, Piotr. Charlotte’s right.” She turned a gentle smile on Charlotte. “You need anything, anything, and I’ll drive through the blizzard to bring it.”
Charlotte bit the inside of her cheek to hold back the tears that would burst free any second. “Thank you.”
She saw them out, then lowered the blinds over the front door and turned off the main dining room lights. Going about her work methodically kept her mind off the situation for a few hours. She wiped down every counter with bleach water—something they had to do once a week, on top of using surface cleaner. She mopped and cleaned the ovens with baking soda paste. She even took apart the espresso machine and hand-washed each piece.
When the first gust of wind slammed into the front of the café, sending a shivering blast of cold air down the coffee bar, Charlotte braved a look out the window. All she could see was a blur of white. A few lights from the rest of the resort flickered in and out, but nothing more. How could Mr. Bzdyl be so right when the weather stations got it so, so wrong? Usually they went on and on about Snowmaggedon or some other kitschy storm name—and the storm never materialized. Today, though, the snow had become a barrier between her and her family.
Shoulders drooping, Charlotte put the espresso machine back together and went to sit in the chair she’d dragged into the kitchen, where it was warmer. She felt dull, numb. Like her heart had hurt enough and couldn’t handle anything more. Then her phone vibrated in her pocket.
It was Luke. Hey, obviously I can’t make it up to the café tonight. I’m so sorry. Rain check? Believe me, I definitely want one.
That was the last straw. Charlotte sighed and texted back. Me, too. Oh, and I’m going to be here for Christmas. My trip was cancelled.
L: Oh God, I should’ve thought…do you need anything?
A drink? A hug? A good cry? All three, probably. Nothing right now. I decided to stay at the café. I felt like being alone for a bit.
Her phone rang—Luke calling. “Hello?”
“Are you okay?” he asked. “You don’t sound okay.”
She took a shuddering breath. “I’m not, really. But there’s nothing you can change about the weather…can you?”
He laughed sadly. “I’m afraid my cred with the weather gods is pretty low. Look, as soon as the roads are clear, I’m coming up there. Maybe even before then. I have a Jeep for a reason.”
“Luke, not even a Jeep can drive in this. And I don’t want you to try. Like my dad kept saying, it’s dangerous. Stay somewhere safe and warm. I’ll see you soon, okay?” Her voice was wavering again, and she really didn’t want him to hear her cry. “Have a good night.”
There was a pause, then, “You, too, lovely Charlotte.”
As soon as the call ended, Charlotte buried her face in her hands and finally let herself cry.