Just let it be, Levy.

We were both there in that unknowing. In that possibility.

And then he took my hand and we silently walked back to the inn.

It was a good thing our flight wasn’t until the early afternoon, because when Dad’s phone call woke me up, I was nowhere near ready. As a matter of fact, I was still in my clothes from the night before. Eric and I had stayed up until at least three in the morning talking in front of that fire. I looked around the room. The rest of my clothes were strewn all over. Sweaters, jeans, socks drooping over the chair.

“Meet you downstairs in ten?” said Dad.

“Yup,” I said, and then started throwing things in my bag while I brushed my teeth.

Fozzie was the first one to greet me at the bottom of the stairs.

“He’s been waiting for you all morning,” said Eric, coming up behind him. His eyes looked particularly big and green and spectacular this morning.

“Hey, Fozzie. I’m gonna miss you,” I managed. I was already feeling hollow just thinking about leaving him.

Dad, Kathy, and Jeremy were having breakfast in our usual spot.

“Can I go for one last walk before we pack up?” I asked.

Kathy looked up and smiled. Did she know about me and Eric …?

“Sure,” said Dad.

Eric and I followed Fozzie out into the backyard. He bounded across the field, with us walking slowly behind. Eric took my mitten in his hand.

“So,” he said.

“So, yeah,” I said back.

We walked for a while not saying anything. Amazingly, he was the one who spoke first. “What do you think?” His voice was low.

“I don’t know. I mean, I wasn’t supposed to meet somebody like you,” I said.

“You mean devastatingly handsome, fascinating, and a lover of fine cheeses?” He squeezed my hand and gave me a mischievous grin.

I punched him on the arm lightly. “I mean, I was just supposed to go away with my dad and Kathy and Jeremy. Maybe learn how to ski. But this feels …” I didn’t know how to finish the sentence. Maybe I was making this into more than what it was. I really hoped not.

“Yeah, it feels like we might’ve just started something big, you know? I mean … I hope. Maybe,” he said.

And now my stomach was doing cartwheels and my heart was beating so loud I could feel it in my toes.

Levy, hold it together. But I was dying to say something.

“Me too! I mean, yes. I mean, I think so, too.”

“Yeah,” he said. I could feel the smiles on both of our faces.

We walked some more. Just to the edge of the Gallaghers’ plot though. My dad had given me strict instructions that we had to be in the car in twenty-five minutes. He’s crazy about getting to airports two years before the flight.

“Guess we gotta turn around,” said Eric.

“Yup.”

He kissed my mittened hand.

“Hey, I’m gonna call you tonight. To make sure you get home okay. Is that all right?” he asked.

“I’d like that.”

“And maybe while you’re up in the air, just so I can hear your voice mail.”

I giggled. “Sounds good to me.”

“And maybe right now, just to make sure I’ve got your number.”

I reached into my pocket to get my phone. I hadn’t touched it in days. I only remembered it because it fell out of my sweatshirt when I had gone to throw it in my suitcase. I looked at it now. Seven more missed calls. What? I opened it up. They were all from Phoebe.

“What is it?” asked Eric.

“Oh, my friend Phoebe. The one I told you about.” I had told him about Phoebe, but just briefly. I didn’t want to tell him just the bad parts. I knew there was a lot more to our friendship than just the past few days. At least, I thought so.

“You think you should call her?” he said.

“I will,” I said. “But for now, I want to be right here.”

When we got back to the inn, Dad was already packing up the rental car. Eric went inside to get Fozzie some food. He said he’d be back out in just a few minutes. I went in to grab a muffin and some coffee. I had decided once I got home that I was going to tell my mom to start making an extra cup for me in the morning. I was an adult, after all. And besides, if it stunted my growth, that was fine. I was already almost six feet tall.

Eric came back into the dining room and joined me by a window.

“Okay! All set!” sang Dad, coming in behind him. Kathy quickly ran in, too. She winked at me.

“Actually,” said Kathy, “I think the trunk isn’t closing all the way. Can you give me a hand please, Judd?” She grabbed Dad’s arm and pulled him toward the front door.

“She’s really pretty cool,” said Eric.

“Yeah, she’s okay. It’s a good thing someone butt his nose in and told me to give her a chance,” I said, smiling.

He pulled out a piece of paper from his coat pocket.

“Well, I just wanted to give you this. It’s nothing big. I’m not much for good-byes, you know? So, how about I just say, I’ll talk to you tonight, and then I’ll see you soon, and we’ll … um … take it from there.”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“I mean, once the busy season slows down a little, maybe I could take a drive down to New York with Fozzie. Like in March or April?”

“I’d like that a lot.”

“Yeah.” He swallowed.

“I’d really like that a lot.” I didn’t think I could say much more. And then, he just held me again with those arms. Those arms that had picked me up and led me down the mountain and into the most beautiful place I had ever been. And I breathed him in, the smell of his warm neck, like fir trees and cedar wood. I tried to take it all in. To hold it deep inside.

In the car, I waited until we were up the hill and past the main square of town. “Good-bye” I whispered to the snow-covered steeples and Canfield Corners. The road extended out in front of us like a dark ribbon between the mounds of fresh snow, the trees bending together to whisper among their branches. Dad was whistling and he had one hand on Kathy’s knee, keeping time to his tune. It slipped from “Paperback Writer” to “Eleanor Rigby” this time. Jeremy was leaning back and staring out at the mountains again. A low cloud of bluish-gray hung above the peaks, heavy with another snow about to fall.

I turned toward my window and slowly pulled out the piece of paper, then unfolded it delicately, spreading it out on my lap. It was a charcoal drawing of a girl, her head upturned, her eyes closed, her lips making a small circle. Her hair fell down long and straight across her shoulders. Her arms were outstretched and above her fell speckled bits of snow caught in midair.

It was me. I knew it was. But until this trip, I had never seen myself this way before. So relaxed, so carefree, so beautiful.

I turned the picture over.

Dear Sam,

I’m not sure what to say. As you said, “I’m not good at this.” But I just wanted to say, thank you for everything. For screaming at me outside. For sipping coffee by the fire. For walking to the Gallaghers’ farm with me and for sharing my favorite place in the world. For falling down and for picking me up. But most of all, thank you for teaching me how to kiss snowflakes. I hope we can do that again soon.

Love, Eric

I folded the paper back up and brought it to my lips.

That was one snowflake I hoped would never melt.

Craving more winter romance?

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