Page 24 of Love Under Snowfall

“Wrong,” she lied again, doubling down. “As usual.”

“Cool, then I have some free time before dinner. Meet me at The Rooftop in a half hour for a beer so we can catch up.” Jonathan challenged his sister, knowing full well she needed every minute of the next two hours to get ready. An awkward ten seconds of silence crept by before Frankie finally caved.

“Fine. You win. I’m a cozy burrito with drool on my face, ok?” She groaned, finally accepting the end of her nap. “I’m just about to hop in the shower.”

“I’ll take my twenty bucks in small bills, thank you.”

“I’ll bring you a bag of nickels.”

Jonathan let out a hearty laugh that reminded Frankie of their father’s. Her heart pinched.

“It’s good to have you back home, sis.”

“I’m glad to be home. See you guys in a couple hours. Love you.”

“Love you too. Don’t be late. Bye.”

“Bye.” Frankie deposited the receiver back in its cradle. She rolled over, snuggled further under the covers, and shut her eyes before letting out a long, groaning sigh. She didn’t want to let her brother down. Or her soon-to-be sister, Lucy. Or her mom. They were all working so hard on the wedding while she moved to Seattle for school and hadn’t helped with a damned thing. The least she could do was be ready and on time.

It took all the mental and physical strength she could muster for Frankie to flip the covers off and let her feet touch the ground. The comforter seemed to beckon and whisper sweet nothings to entice her to stay.I’m warm. I’m snuggly. I’m a cozy sleep tortilla.Frankie jumped off the bed to distance herself from temptation and begrudgingly stomped to the bathroom. Hopefully, a warm shower would snap her into party mode.

An hour later, as she finished blow-drying her hair, her phone buzzed. She walked to the nightstand and picked it up.

Jonathan:

Wake up! It’s officially T-minus one hour until you are supposed to be here!

She took a quick photo of herself, complete with her tongue sticking out and middle finger brandished, to show off her freshly dried hair.

Frankie:

Bite me! Now leave me alone, you big bully.

She tossed the phone into the mass of comforter and returned to the bathroom to continue primping. Soon, with a fresh face of carefully applied makeup and hair curled into Hollywood waves, Francesca shimmied into the hunter-green wrap dress she’d chosen for the night. Tugging the sleeves into place, she realized she filled the outfit more than when she’d bought it in August. The switch from rafting and climbing forty-plus hours per week to studying all the damn time added a little fluff to her typically firm form. Taking in the near-overflowing bust and rounder hips, she grinned, not minding the added curves one bit.

Gold pumps, dangly earrings, and a clutch completed the ensemble. She dug through the purse she’d used daily for the pastfew years and pulled out the necessities that would fit into the shiny little handbag: lip balm, lip gloss, ID, cash, aspirin, and her hotel room key card.

Where is my phone?

She dug through the covers to find it. Eventually, she picked up the fluffy white comforter and shook it until her phone landed with a thud on the ground.

She winced. “OtterBox two, gravity zero.”

A glance at her phone showed she had a missed call and a text message from an unknown number.

Unknown:

Francesca. It’s Professor Clark. We should probably talk. Soon.

It’s rather important.

Please, Francesca.

Whaaaaaaat?

Frankie couldn’t think for a moment. Static crackled in her skull, mimicking the sensation of a head stuffed with Pop Rocks. So many questions buzzed together in a jumble of chaos.

Why the hell is Professor Clark calling and texting me?

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