The Midnight Motel is exactly what one might picture when they conjure up an image of a roadside inn. There's a neon sign with an arrow below that blinks every few seconds and the word vacancy is spelled out on the reader board, missing the letter 'n.' There are three 18-wheelers off to the side of the parking lot and several oversized vehicles in front of the motel. If these big rigs are calling it a night, it's probably for the best that we are as well.

Alex unbuckles her seatbelt. "Do you want to stay in the car while I get us checked in?"

The last thing I want is to be alone in the car in a shady motel parking lot. "I'll come with you."

The lobby is sparse and smells like someone has tried to cover up the scent of mildew with Pine Sol. I wouldn't sit on the stained sofa if someone paid me.

"Let me guess," a man behind the counter says with a toothpick dangling out of his mouth. "You're the gals Flo called me about."

"I assume so." Alex pulls out a credit card. "I understand you have one room left?"

"That's right. It'll be $89 a night plus tax. Ya'll staying for a week?"

My head shoots back.

"I'm just messin' with ya!" he laughs. "Matter of fact, the longest anyone's stayed at the motel was three nights in a row. As I recall, that was around this time last year when a similar storm rolled through." He slides a piece of paper across the counter and places a pen on top of it.

Alex reviews the form, and then signs it.

"Yeah, they say this one should be all but done by about three or four in the morning." He passes the credit card through a black apparatus, and then hands it back to her. "I'm going to give you a few candles if the power goes out. Here's some matches, too. I gave all the flashlights out already so these will have to do."

I grab the four white, generic candles and Alex takes the tall one with Jesus on the side of the jar.

"Your room is three doors down to the right." He hands Alex a key dangling from a blue, plastic keychain. "If you need anything, I'll be here until morning. You can come on down to the office or hit zero on the telephone."

"Thank you."

I nod, remaining silent as I follow her outside.

"He was nice enough," Alex comments.

"Nice but dirty."

She gives me a look. "Let's put the candles in the room, and then get our bags." Alex shoves the key in the door and opens it to find one bed with a white and brown quilt in the center of the room and a string of bulky Christmas lights strung in an inverted V on the wood-paneled wall behind the bed. There's a painting of a mountain range on the opposite wall, and I'm sure I've seen that exact portrait at a Goodwill store for $2.50. The brown dresser matches the brown end tables and brown, shag carpeting. It smells similar to the lobby, but a little less moldy.

"It's kind of charming," Alex says, setting the slender candle on the table.

I try to remain positive. "The Christmas lights are a nice touch."

She sticks her hands on her hips and surveys the room. "I hope you don't mind sharing a bed."

"Looks like we don't have a choice."

She shrugs. "It sure as hell beats sleeping in a freezing car."

"You're not an ax murderer or anything, right?"

She lets out a soft laugh. "That's probably something you should've asked before getting in the car with me."

As we transport our bags to the room and I triple lock the door, the wind and snow picks up considerably.

Alex turns on the television as I pull the comforter off the bed, and then yank the sheets back.

She spins around. "What are you doing?"

I examine the beige linens. "Looking for bed bugs."

She stares at me with crossed arms. "Find any?"

"Not yet." I turn the flashlight on my phone and examine the bed more closely. Once I'm satisfied, I go into the bathroom and look closely at the towels.

"Is the coast clear?"

I know she's mocking me. "You might think I'm overreacting, but you can't be too careful when it comes to bed bugs. My cousin got them once and it took a week to disinfect her clothes and luggage."

Alex rests her hands on my shoulders and in fake sincerity says, "Thank you so much for caring about our health and safety."

"You're welcome."

She returns her attention to the TV.

"Alex?" I glance between the bedroom and vanity area. "I think we're missing a door."

"Looks that way." She walks to the sink, which is on the exterior of the small bathroom. "Hope you're not super modest."

"I'd prefer some privacy when I'm in the bathroom, but I guess that's not an option."

She pulls a towel off the rack and inspects it. "I'm guessing this thin fabric that loosely passes as a towel won't fully wrap around my body."

"I doubt it would wrap around a child's body."

She holds it up to the dim, flickering light. "It's almost transparent."

I tilt my head. "So really, there's zero privacy."

She tosses it back onto the rack with a smile and moves into the bedroom as the weatherman gives an update on the snowfall totals.

"You'll see the center of the low pressure system here," he points to a radar map. "This system is similar to a hurricane. The wind whips around in a counter-clockwise direction like this, and if you're in the southeastern quadrant of the storm, that's where you'll see the most damaging winds and the greatest accumulation of snow. Folks this isn't something you want to drive in if you're traveling on I-89 or I-91."

"Should we light the candles just in case the power goes out?"

She tosses the matchbox to me. "Sure."

I light all the candles, including the Jesus one, and continue listening to the weather report, which sounds dire. They're predicting blizzard like conditions overnight and into the early morning hours. The small towns along the interstate are expected to get between a foot and a foot and a half of accumulated snow by sunrise.

"I'm going to change." I grab my pajamas and enter the tiny, doorless bathroom.

I hear a phone ring. "Is that yours or mine?"

"Mine." I hear Alex say hello to the caller. "I couldn't make this shit up if I tried," she says into the receiver with a sigh. "Did you read all my texts?"

"Yeah, we read them." I can hear the other person on the line, but it's a little muddled. "Only Alex Fucking Vause could pick up a woman at the airport and convince her to drive across state lines."

My interest is piqued.

"It's not like that," Alex responds. "I'll fill you in when I see you tomorrow."

"Is she at least cute?"

I can see Alex's reflection in the mirror—she's grinning and quite possibly blushing. "I'll fill you in tomorrow," she repeats.

I quickly turn my back to the bedroom and button my flannel pajama top. "Was that your friend calling to check on you?"

"Yeah," she responds. "Sucks that I'm not there."

I sit on the lid of the toilet and pull on some fuzzy socks. "Is today her actual birthday?"

"Tomorrow."

I walk back into the bedroom, and Alex is messing with the dial on the heater. "Mind if I turn this thing higher?"

I shake my head.

She opens the curtains a bit and peeks outside. "It's starting to really come down now."

I join her on the other side of the room and feel a draft coming through the thin windowpane. "It is."

She turns to me. "Aren't you glad we're not driving in this?"

I nod.

"It would be one thing if it was daylight," she says, untucking her blouse. "But I don't know these roads well enough to drive in near blizzard conditions at night."

"As much as I hate to admit it, we did the right thing."

She stares at me for a moment, eyeing me up and down. "Cute pajamas."

I glance down at my snowman pjs. "Larry gave these to me last Christmas."

She slides past me. "Speaking of Larry, have you talked to him?"

I pick up my phone, noticing no missed calls. "I texted him at the diner, but I haven't heard back."

"Maybe you should give him a call." She grabs a few items from her suitcase. "I'm going to change."

She's right, I need to call him. Maybe there's some problem with my texts going through. I hit the green button on my phone, and he answers on the second ring.

"Did you get my texts?"

"Yes."

"Did you want to text me back?"

"We were in the middle of dinner," he explains. "And then I just…forgot."

"You forgot that your girlfriend was driving in a snowstorm just to be with you and your sick father for Christmas?" I try to swallow the irritation in my tone.

"Don't you mean ex-girlfriend?" he asks.

I remain silent for a moment.

"Are you driving by yourself?"

"There were no rental cars left at the airport, so the woman who took my seat on the flight offered to give me a ride since we were both headed to Burlington."

"If the woman took your seat, why is she driving with you?"

"The flight was cancelled," I reply, realizing this might be difficult to explain. "Alex had reserved a car in advance of the storm, and I'm glad she did because otherwise, I—"

"Spare me the story behind whatever ludicrous situation you've gotten yourself into," Larry begins. "And if you can't get here by tomorrow night, don't come at all. It's not worth it."

"I'm doing this for you!" I blink back tears and taste bitterness in my mouth. "I'm traveling with a total fucking stranger in a blizzard for you, Larry, so if I can't get there on your timeline, I'm fucking sorry!"

I'm so blinded by emotion that I don't realize Alex is standing next to me with a hand on my back.

"Call me from the road tomorrow." With that, he hangs up.

I stare at the phone as my chest heaves in and out. "I can't believe he's accusing me of not being there."

"I'm sure he doesn't realize what you've been through today." She sits next to me on the bed, brushing my hair off my shoulder. "He's angry at the situation, not at you."

"You're defending him?" I can feel tears hanging in my eyelids. If I blink, they'll cascade down my cheeks.

Alex lifts her shoulders. "I'm just saying he probably can't grasp the traveling shit show you've experienced today."

"I don't even want to be with him." I sniff. "He guilted me into this trip…probably so he could try getting back together." I wipe my eyes with the hem of my pajama sleeve. "Right now, the thought of being in the same house with Larry makes my skin crawl."

"You're not in the same house with him." She rubs small circles on the back of my hand. "And you never have to be in the same house with him." She places her other hand on my thigh. "I can drive you straight to the Burlington airport tomorrow and you can take the next flight home if that's what you want."

I close my eyes and breathe in through my nose, out through my mouth. "I'm sorry about all this."

"Don't worry about it." She walks to the vanity area and grabs the box of tissue. "I've seen much worse meltdowns than this."

I blow my nose on the tissue that feels more like sandpaper. "Really?"

"Sure. Lots of 10-year-olds have reactions like that," she jokes.

I let out a wet laugh.

She digs in her bag and pulls out two mini-bottles. "I knew I had these in here."

I lift my brows. "Is that tequila?"

"It is." She gets two plastic cups from the bathroom. "I got them on my last flight and forgot to take them out. I'm surprised I got through security at the airport."

"The TSA scanners probably figured they were less than three ounces." I take one of the proffered bottles and dump the liquid into the cup.

"To meeting new people in unexpected places." She taps her cup against mine.

"Cheers."

"And to this snowstorm ending in the very near future."

I take a sip of the stringent alcohol, and it burns all the way down. I cover my mouth with my arm and wince at the burning sensation. "I couldn't tell you the last time I had straight tequila."

"I could." She turns the volume down on the television and crawls into bed, crossing her legs at the ankles.

My attention was so focused on my conversation with Larry that I hadn't realized that Alex had changed into plaid pajamas. She looks warm and cozy. I sit on the opposite side of the bed with my back against the headboard, cup in hand.

"Are you going to fill me in?"

"It was this past August," she begins with a smile, looking to the ceiling as if recalling the memory. "I was dating this much younger woman, and we went to her place for a nightcap after dinner. She had literally the smallest apartment I've ever seen, and believe me, I've seen some small fucking apartments."

I take another sip of tequila, hoping to hide the blush that I fear is spreading across my cheeks when she announces that she was dating a woman. I had no way of confirming that Alex is gay, but it's fair to say I had my suspicions. That shouldn't excite me the way it does.

"If someone invites you over for a nightcap, you expect a choice of booze, right?" She takes a sip. "If not a choice, then definitely some kind of after dinner drink like sherry, brandy or even Bailey's."

"Or she just wanted to have sex with you and a nightcap was an excuse to get you into her bed," I comment.

"Sex was a given," she replies. "It's not like that would've been our first time."

I feel something stir in my body at hearing the way she says the word, sex.

"Anyway this girl, Laurie, had one Michelob Ultra in the fridge and a half-bottle of Jose Cuervo."

"That's it?" I don't let my body win this battle by asking more about the sex, though I desperately want to hear more.

She laughs. "Don't get me wrong—there are a few tequilas like Casa Noble—that could work as an after dinner drink, but Jose fucking Cuervo?"

"What did you do?"

"I drank it." She continues laughing. "I haven't shot tequila in years—I tend to sip the good stuff, but Laurie threw that glass back twice before I'd taken three sips."

"It probably would've gone down a lot smoother if you'd shot it," I offer.

"True." She grins and glances my way. "Needless to say, Laurie turned out to be a little too immature, and that was our last date."

I decide to ask a more personal question. "Was she your last girlfriend?"

"She wasn't my girlfriend," Alex replies, nudging her glasses. "But she's the last woman I went out with more than three times."

My bold streak continues. "Did you date the woman whose birthday you're going to in Vermont?"

"Nicky? God, no. She's my best friend." She takes another sip of tequila. "But I did date one of the other women at the cabin." She picks at the lint on the comforter. "It was a long time ago; we haven't hooked up in years."

Maybe it's the tequila talking. "Does she still have feelings for you?"

"I don't know." Alex averts her eyes. "She's the jealous type, so even though there's nothing going on between us, I don't bring other women around if I know Sylvie's going to be there."

"Larry is a lot of things, but he was never jealous."

Her head snaps up. "Not jealous of anyone?"

"I mean, maybe he was a little jealous when I talked about one of my co-workers too much," I say.

"Were you attracted to him?"

I take the final sip of alcohol. "Her."

Alex's lips twitch and an eyebrow almost imperceptibly arches.

"She had this larger-than-life personality and was a brilliant writer," I continue. "It didn't hurt that she had a British accent."

She grins. "Accents get me every time."

"Nothing ever happened between us. She was only in New York for three months and then moved back to Wales."

"Did she know you were attracted to her?"

I shake my head. "I didn't even realize the attraction until Larry brought it up. I thought she was fun to hang out with but being with her…romantically…never crossed my mind until she was gone. Besides, I was in a relationship. I wouldn't have cheated on Larry."

Alex hasn't moved; she seems hyper-focused on our conversation. "Had you ever been with a woman?"

"In college." I nod. "Two one night stands."

"I don't know how you went back to men after being with a woman," she comments.

"Sex is just sex." I shrug. "I'm more interested in the bond between two people."

"Then you've never had great sex." She tosses the remainder of the alcohol back. "I wish I had more tequila."

"Or that the motel had a mini-bar," I reply.

"Either would be nice." She flings her legs off the side of the bed and walks over to the window. I have a feeling she's suddenly uncomfortable next to me. I don't examine the reason too closely.

I sit up more fully. "What's it like out there?"

"It's a white-out." She opens the curtain wide enough for me to see thick chunks of snow blowing sideways. "At least we still have power."

"That reminds me." I get out of bed and search for my charging cord. "We should plug our phones in just in case."

"I'm going to set an alarm for 5 a.m." She places her phone on the table. "Hopefully we can get out of here before six."

"That would be good." I pad into the bathroom and pull out my toothbrush.

Alex stretches and yawns. "I'm exhausted."

"Me, too."

With my toothbrush hanging out of my mouth, I reach into my purse. "Mind if we listen to some Christmas music as we go to sleep?"

"As long as it's the soft kind."

"No Metallica Christmas tonight?" I ask around a mouthful of toothpaste.

She squeezes a dab of Colgate onto her brush. "I don't think Metallica made a Christmas album."

"I have an instrumental Christmas playlist." I rinse my mouth and head back to the bedroom. "I tend to sleep all over the place, so if I touch you, just shove me, and I'll roll onto my side."

"It's ok if you touch me." She rinses her mouth, so I can't see her expression. "After all, it is a small bed."