The Cosmic Law of French Toast
Day Ten: Snowed In
"I can't believe this," Delia said, her voice hushed. "It came on so suddenly."
"Yeah, it's a bit freaky," Melinda agreed, folding her arms over herself. "I'm going to go turn up the thermostat. It's freezing in here."
"At this point, we're going to be snowed in, inside Same As It Never Was and I do not want that," Delia insisted, following Melinda into the back room. "Seriously, we have to do something."
"Do what? There's nothing we can do," Melinda said, frustrated. "Do you really think that anyone in Grandview isn't aware that this is happening? We're probably not the only ones."
"But what about Ned? And dinner?" Delia wondered. "I'm hungry, Mel."
Melinda's heart pinched to hear the words. Not many people called her that. Just Jim.
"I'll go and pick up a pizza from that new parlor that just opened across the square, if you'd like," Melinda said.
"No, no way in hell I'm letting you leave me here," Delia said. "Take me with you. We can just lock up the shop and come back if we need to."
Melinda peered out across the square. "Scratch that idea. I can't see a damn thing. Only a fool would go out in this."
"You do realize that only an idiot would go out in something like this?" Ned asked Sam, his voice falsely patient.
"Your mom is stuck in that shop too," Sam replied. "Now the only question is, are you coming or am I going alone? That is something I'm fine with. I don't want to endanger you."
"Let me see what Melinda has in the fridge," Ned said, folding his arms and going to the kitchen. "Score! Leftover pizza. You can go ahead, J-Sam."
"What were about to call me?" Sam asked, poking his head into the kitchen.
"Nothing, you misheard me, Sam," Ned said, cramming a piece of pizza into his mouth. "Crazy weather. I just can't believe my luck at managing to reach Melinda's house before it hit."
"Yeah," Sam said. "I'm off. I'm going to take these snowshoes; I found them in her garage."
"That's a good place for them to be," Ned commented cautiously.
"I've got coffee in three thermoses and I'll see about picking up food for them in town," Sam said. "Now I'll be going."
"Are you really ready for something like this?" Ned asked. "I mean, you only just got amnesia. Were you a sportsman of any sort before now?"
"I don't know," Sam admitted, slumping a bit. "But there's something that won't let me not go to Melinda right now. I know, it sounds majorly messed up and weird."
"Not as much as you'd think," Ned admitted. "Go on then. I can't stop you."
Sam nodded and left the house. He was wearing more than enough layers and there was something else that was urging him on: the thought of Melinda.
He wasn't sure why. She'd denied them having an affair before her husband's death but my god, how else could you explain the connection between them?
Every time he looked at her, his heart skipped a beat. He'd wake up in the middle of the night from steamy dreams, all centered around Melinda's body. True enough, he had no idea of who the man he was before now but he really hoped that Sam Lucas hadn't made a habit of having erotic thoughts and dreams about his employers. Because that was something he didn't want to handle.
God, they were so vivid, though. It was like he was actually remembering sexual encounters with Melinda. He could instinctively think of how she felt in his arms, cradled close. He could almost imagine how her breasts would feel; sometimes it was like he'd actually held the weight of them in his hands.
What...why...how could this be happening if he hadn't ever seen Melinda naked? Melinda like that? Melinda at her most vulnerable, begging for him to give her release?
How could any man's imagination be so fucking vivid?
He shook his head, definitely not cold now. He was burning up and all the blood in his body seemed to have rushed to his groin.
God, he hated being a man sometimes.
Melinda could turn him on with only the slightest of words; motions. She could make him feel alive just by tugging her hair back into a ponytail. She sparked more memories in him than any time he'd seen his parents since the accident.
And there was something inside of him that wouldn't let him turn back.
So he forged on, getting just enough visibility in the storm to make the right choices. Hitherto unknown skills came in to play: he found that he was very skilled at walking on showshoes.
Melinda pulled another coat on. "I hate doing this, since we might mess up our inventory, but you should put a coat on too, Delia. We're going to be frozen."
"I found some fudge in a tin back here!" Delia called, emerging from the back room in triumph, holding it aloft.
"Really, give me a piece!" Melinda said, her stomach growling. "Oh, wow, this is almost completely full!"
"Yeah, I think it was an early Christmas present from Mrs. McGee, you know, she owns that flower shop?" Delia said, taking a piece.
"Yeah, I know her," Melinda said, diving into the fudge. She and Delia moaned at the same time. "This is amazing," Melinda said, taking another piece.
"What does she use?" Delia exclaimed, taking two more pieces and eating them in rapid succession.
"Probably condensed milk but I've never tasted a fudge this smooth, but still so...chocolate-y and fudge-y and oh," Melinda said, another piece finding its way to her lips.
They ate in silence for a few minutes before Delia heaved a sigh and cast the tin aside. "Who am I kidding? This isn't going to help us."
"It might help our waistlines expand," Melinda said heavily, taking another piece and Delia quickly put a lid on the tin.
"It's like two pounds, so yes," Delia said. "We have to stop eating, stat."
"Fine," Melinda said, folding her arms. "Then put a coat on. We need some way to stay warm."
"Yeah, I guess," Delia said. "Seriously, what are we going to do? Spend the night in the shop?"
"That's the only option we have, Delia," Melinda replied. "Unfortunately."
Just then the door banged.
Melinda and Delia whirled around to see a masked man entering on snowshoes.
Melinda's heart skipped a beat. "Sam?" She wondered, stepping forward to shove the door closed behind him.
"Yeah, it's me," Sam said, pulling his mask and scarves off. "How are you two holding up? I've got hot coffee."
The travel mug was jerked away from him in an instant, and Delia downed it. "Oh, thank god," she muttered.
As Sam gave them an update, telling them about Ned and what he'd heard about the storm, Melinda watched him carefully, wondering what had brought him here.
In the end, he went out and got a pizza for dinner. The couple who owned it were snowed in there, too, and he got some news from them.
The pizza was pretty cold by the time he got back, but Melinda dug out an old (literally) space heater and it got warm in no time.
They spread blankets and coats on the floor in the front, settling down as it steadily got darker outside. Melinda locked the door.
"We should move the blankets close together so that we can use each other's body warmth too," Sam urged, doing so as he said it. "Your thermostat isn't worth beans, Melinda."
"I know," Melinda sighed, moving to crank it up one more notch. "But my heating bill will be through the roof anyway. Oh, how the world works."
"Yeah," Delia said, taking the coat on the edge. "Melinda, sleep next to me."
Melinda glared at her, but knew that wisdom in what her friend said, settling down into the cocoon.
Sam turned out the lights and in a moment she could hear him settling in next to her. She could see his back, broad and strong, in the dim light coming into the shop from the street lights outside.
"Good night," Delia said. "Don't say it back. I'm too tired."
Melinda stayed silent, not believing how much this hurt to be so close to Jim and yet so far away.
She'd thought of him as Jim, not even correcting it to Sam.
She folded her arms around herself, feeling tears coming on. She kept her sobs silent, but they racked her body anyway.
She cried herself to sleep.
When Sam woke up, Melinda was cradled in his arms.
It felt so right. It felt like this was how it had always been, how it should be between them.
Her eyes had dark circles underneath them and he wondered if he'd imagined the sobs he'd heard last night.
"Oh, Melinda," he whispered, daring to press a kiss to her temple. "It's wrong but I might love you."
In the silence of the shop, Delia was the only one who heard him. Her lips curled into a smile. "You don't know how happy that makes me," she said to herself. "And Melinda when I tell her...no, that should be private. She can find out on her own. Knowing Jim...she will, and soon."