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Her mom sighs at her when she bounds down the stairs, made-up and wide-eyed before nine o’clock. “Is that all it takes to get you out of bed this early?” she asks, hardly bothering to hide the disapproval from her voice, “A cute boy?”
Josie fixes her hair in the mirror in the hallway by the door, mostly ignoring her. “We have plans to meet for breakfast,” she explains, voice even, “That’s usually an early-morning activity.”
“Just breakfast?” her mom asks, in a way that makes Josie avert her eyes from her reflection in the mirror, where she’s seated on the couch behind her.
“Well – breakfast is the start,” she murmurs, winding a scarf around her neck. She’s pretty sure there’s snow in the forecast today.
“I just want you to be careful, Josie.” It’s far from the first time she’s said as much. Since she got off the bus from college, her mom has expressed plenty of concerns about Robin, especially as things around town elevated. No amount of arguments could deter her from being wary. “You do still barely know this man.”
“That’s not true,” Josie argues, voice light. The last thing she wants is to get into this again now. They’re burning daylight. She’s going to be late. “And I’m not fighting with you about this anymore.”
She slips her hands into her mittens, grabbing the wrapped present on the coffee table and heading towards the door before the conversation can continue. “Be back later,” she calls over her shoulder, skipping out the door and almost immediately sliding on a patch of ice. “Shit!”
“Language,” chides her mother, before she pulls the door shut, regaining her balance with a huff.
Thank god she’s meeting Robin at the diner.
Snow crunches under her shoes on the walk across town, just a dusting left over from while she was sleeping. Cedarport is quiet and peaceful around her as she makes her way to main street, her eyes lighting up when she sees the person waiting for her outside the diner, pink-cheeked from the cold.
She only has a split-second to study Robin and his scarf and peacoat before he turns and notices her, grinning brightly as his eyes rake up and down her body. He pulls her into a tight hug as soon as she gets close enough to reach on the sidewalk.
“Hey,” he murmurs into her ear, lips warm where they brush the side of her face. “Good morning. You look like something out of a Christmas catalog.”
“Is that a compliment?” Josie laughs, resisting the urge to dig her fingers into the soft wool covering his broad shoulders.
“Sure is.” Robin pulls back enough to look her over again, then abruptly lifts her hand into the air to spin her around. “And if you were in a catalog, I’d rip your pages out and hang them up in my room.”
“That’s some pretty smooth talk for someone cute enough to make my heart stop.” Her hand lifts, then, to tug on the lapel of his coat playfully. “This is quite the look.”
Robin’s chest puffs out under her mitten. “You like it? Only the finest, for my last day in Cedarport in 2020.”
Silence settles around them heavily. It’s not like he’s never coming back, she reminds herself, not for the first time. It’s barely even two weeks that he’ll be gone, and even then, Robin’s only going to Northbridge. Without traffic, he’s just thirty minutes away.
But he won’t be here.
Josie clears her throat, dropping her hand down into his. Robin’s not wearing gloves, and his fingers are so cold she can feel them through the fabric of her own knit mittens. “We should get a table,” she prompts, “You promised me pancakes.”
Robin’s frigid hand squeezes hers. “And all the coffee you can drink,” he agrees, reminding her of what he’d had to say to get her to agree to breakfast plans in the first place. So – she’s not what some (anyone) would call an ‘early riser.’ Sue her.
There’s an open booth in the corner of the diner that’s perfectly secluded from the rest of the room behind a potted plant, dousing her with an instant relief that feels so good she’s almost guilty. Is it so wrong if she doesn’t want to see or speak to anyone on Robin’s last day in town?
Evidently not, judging by the way Robin smiles fondly at her from across the table as he shrugs out of his coat, cupping his hands in front of his mouth to blow feeling back into his fingers. “Private back here, eh? Don’t feel like sharing much today?”
“Shut up,” she returns, kicking him gently under the table. Instead of wincing, Robin just bumps her foot back with his, curling his ankle over hers and tugging her leg to his side of the booth. She rolls her eyes, ducking her face behind the giant menu in front of her.
Not that it matters. When the waitress arrives, Robin orders pancakes and hash browns and coffee and hot chocolate for both of them, snatching the menu out of her hands before she can protest. After the briefest moment of trying not to be charmed by it, she gives in and lets herself smile stupidly at him again.
“It’s going to be so weird, not seeing you every day.” It’s true. Since she came home in the summer they’ve practically lived in each other’s back pockets, in one way or another.
The expression on Robin’s face softens. “I know.” Though he only looks sad for a second, and then he brightens, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. “Tell me about what you guys are doing, though. Any Thompson family traditions?”
“Well, we already did the tree,” she hums, tilting her cheek into her hand. “But on Christmas Eve we usually stay up late watching cheesy old movies. And my mom makes a big breakfast in the morning. Normal stuff.”
“You mean you actually get up before noon?” he teases, eyebrows arched high on his smug, handsome face. “You must really love Christmas.”
“Okay, I’m not that bad,” Josie laughs, forcefully wiggling her foot free from where it’s trapped between Robin’s shins to kick him again. “Just because some people are, like, up with the sun –”
“The early bird gets the worm, Josie.”
“– doesn’t mean that there’s anything wrong with sleeping in.”
Robin holds up his hands placatingly, grinning wide. “Okay, okay. Forget I said anything.” Amusement flickers in his gaze as his eyes dip to the present in the booth beside her. “Were you planning on carrying that thing around with you all day?”
“Well, we can’t start with presents,” she murmurs, uncharacteristic embarrassment making her avert her eyes back to the Formica tabletop between them. “The whole day would seem less special compared to that.”
“A day with you could never not be special,” he declares. Then, his voice quiets, and he allows, “But, fair enough. I’ll hold off, for now.”
She blinks. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”
There’s a loud laugh from the other side of the booth. “You got me something.”
“Yeah, but – you didn’t know that.”
The way he’s looking at her makes her feel too warm, given how cold it is outside. Her toes are still frozen in her boots, but her face feels like it’s on fire. “Call it a hunch,” Robin smiles. “Reporter’s intuition.”
“Your nose just knows, huh?”
“Exactly.”
He doesn’t take his eyes off of her even as their plates start to arrive at the table, one after another with two mugs for each of them. It’s only when Robin has a whipped cream mustache from drinking his hot chocolate that he shifts to grab a napkin, so he’s not looking at her when he says, “It’s too bad you couldn’t have come back to Northbridge with me. My mom would’ve loved to meet you.”
Oh, no. She was already too warm – now she’s positively sweating. “Really?”
Robin’s eyes glitter affectionately when he nods. “Sure. I mean – you’re in so many of my stories, whenever I call. Of course she already knows all about you.”
That makes her groan. Josie drops her face into her hands, covering her flush. “So she thinks I’m a troublemaker.”
Without lifting her head, she hears the bark of Robin’s sharp laugh and can picture his wide grin perfectly. “She knows that I’m the troublemaker. She thinks you’re my perfect match.”
Oh, god. She’s going to die of embarrassment, here, in the hometown diner she used to close out after high school football games. “You’re kidding.”
Josie parts her fingers to peer at Robin from between them. Predictably, he is grinning as hugely as she’d imagined he would be. His pancakes are already cut chaotically, haphazardly divided into unequal shapes and sizes. She swallows, dropping her hands to work on her own – slicing them into methodical, even triangles.
“No way,” Robin answers sincerely, voice so eager it makes her stomach flip. It’s weird, how he just – does that. No one she’s ever dated has been so forthcoming before, but Robin says what he’s thinking and compliments her without prompting pretty much all the time. She never has to guess what’s on his mind or fish for praise, and he acts like it costs him nothing to be so open and honest – so vulnerable, even after only knowing her for six months. “I think she’s glad I finally found someone to balance me out. If it weren’t for you I probably would have been arrested by now.”
Her face still feels too hot, even as she arches an eyebrow at him from over her pancakes and jokes, “Probably? Try ‘definitely.’”
He shrugs good-naturedly at her while he tucks into his own food, like he hasn’t even noticed how utterly mortified she is, or that if he has, he’s chosen to find it cute and charming.
The pool of syrup on his plate is at least an inch thick over his jagged pancake rhombuses and trapezoids.
And, god, she is fond of him. For his chaos and so many other things. If Robin’s mom thinks she’s the one balancing him, she should’ve known Josie when she felt hopeless – when it seemed like the Stricklers of the world were everywhere and there was no point in fighting them because she was just one person who everyone thought was a nuisance with little more to offer apart from a big mouth.
There’s no denying just how good he’s been for her. And while she certainly sees how her temperament could be beneficial to someone as wild as Robin, it seems inaccurate not to make note of how much she’s changed for the better since graduation in May, largely because of him.
He dimples at her as he shovels hash browns onto his pancake plate, right into the syrup. “You’re staring.”
“Just wondering who’s going to keep you in line next week. You know, since I’ll be here and all.”
“Believe me,” Robin sighs, “I do know. But – my brothers are actually worse than me. So I think my mom is going to have her hands pretty full.”
“Hmm.” Her lips twitch into a smile as she pushes her perfect pancake triangles around in her modest river of syrup. “When was the last time you were all together?”
“Probably… God, it must’ve been last Christmas,” Robin answers, sounding surprised as he mentally tallies the time. “But Julian lives abroad now, so. It happens.”
“That seems like the perfect excuse to travel, to me.”
“You’d think.” Robin’s lips twist sardonically. “But when I was working at the Times I barely had a few hours to sleep, let alone vacation days. That’s one of the reasons it’s so much better being on my own.” His eyes lift from his breakfast and settle on her face again. “I finally have time to pursue the things I want.”
“Corny,” says her mouth, but she can feel the way her eyes are practically bugging out with over-exaggerated cartoon hearts.
“I know.” The words are said like they’re a heavy burden to bear, though the glance he sneaks up at her before he smiles gently and scrapes up the last of his syrupy hash browns makes her feel like she’s had twenty cups of coffee instead of just one.
It’s snowing again when they step outside after the check’s been paid (by Robin, despite her insistence that just because she’s still unemployed doesn’t mean she’s broke), full and ready to face the cold. Her teeth worry her bottom lip as she wonders if the new weather will push up his departure time, in an effort to get back to Northbridge before he’ll have to drive in the snow.
As if he’s reading her mind, Robin’s hand swings out and clasps hers. “So, what’s next on the agenda?”
“Well – I finally wanted to show you the ice skating rink,” she starts, “If you still have time?”
He turns his head and looks at her like she’s speaking a language he doesn’t understand. “We’ve got the whole day, Josie.”
“You should really leave before it gets bad, though. I wouldn’t want you to get stuck –”
Robin stops her on the sidewalk, lifting his free hand to her shoulder. “Okay, so we’ve got most of the day. The point is, I’m going to spend as much time with you as humanly possible, even if I have to drive up to Northbridge in the dark in a blizzard afterwards.”
Bewildered by the intensity of his insistence, she simply answers, “Okay,” changing their course to head towards the lake.
Robin is just as hilariously bad at ice skating as she’d assumed he’d be, though his clumsiness is just another hopelessly endearing facet of his personality. She about dies ten thousand or so times from how sweet he looks tripping over himself trying to impress her, or wobbling across the ice with both of his freezing cold hands held tightly in hers.
They take slow turns around the lake until the afternoon crowd of teenagers rolls in and they have to rush across the park to find someplace private to walk together. Despite his unbelievably slow go at something passable, Robin still beams, “That was fun,” when they’re alone again.
She can’t help her laughter. “You were awful.”
Robin’s mouth drops open in exaggerated shock. “It was my first time!”
“You were like a baby deer,” she teases, “Just – wow. It’s a good thing you’re pretty.”
He sniffs, faux-offended. “Like you’re one to talk.” His head swivels to squint up at the cloudy, dim sky, and she watches, completely fascinated, as slowly drifting snowflakes settle on his eyelashes and the tip of his nose. Her heart slows to a stop that resumes in a frantic double-time when Robin blinks and turns his gaze on her, pleading, “Tell me it’s finally time for presents.”
It is, but only because they can’t delay the inevitable forever. He will have to leave soon, and – that’s just reality. It could be worse, she reminds herself, for the fourth or fifth time. It’s only Northbridge.
So why does it feel so terrible, even as they settle on a freezing cold park bench together with their shoulders pressed close?
She sets Robin’s gift aside to take his hands in hers, lifting them up to eye-level for inspection. “You’re turning blue. I can’t believe you came out here today without gloves.”
“Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m very reckless,” Robin deadpans, squeezing her hands. He looks unbelievably pleased with himself as she starts to laugh. “So – that present.”
“Oh my god, you’re horrible,” Josie tsks, shaking her head. “It’s so obvious you’re the youngest sibling. Here, Mr. Impatient.”
The wrapped box is thrust into his lap unceremoniously. Robin doesn’t waste a moment before tearing into the snowman-adorned paper excitedly, his eyes wide when the lid lifts and the tissue paper falls away, revealing the leather journal embossed with his initials.
He’s silent as he lifts it reverently into his hands, turning it over. “Do you like it?” She asks, unnerved by how quiet he’s being. Robin’s never quiet. “I did the leather stamp myself, so –”
Josie’s rambling is cut off abruptly as Robin leans forward to kiss her, dropping the journal back into the box to slide his freezing cold hands into her hair. The ends of her curls are starting to get wet from the snow but she hardly notices how badly they’re both dressed for the escalating weather with the way he seems intent on pulling every last breath out of her lungs.
“I love it,” he declares hoarsely, when he pulls back just enough for her to see the cloud of his breath through the cold, “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Fuck.”
“Fuck?” she questions breathlessly, eyes dead set on the wet line of his mouth.
“Uh huh.” His confirmation is nonsensical, and yet she understands him perfectly. Robin darts back in for what she assumes is meant to be a quick kiss that swiftly captures her full attention, leaving her sighing against his lips as his icy hands press against the back of her head to keep her in place. This time, when he dips away, he says, “I want you to be my girlfriend.”
She blinks, stunned. There’s snowflakes all over his beautifully genuine face. “Okay.”
Robin looks just as stunned as she feels. Her head swims deliriously as she considers the possibility that he might’ve thought she could have said anything else. “Okay?”
“Yeah.” She swallows, then wets her suddenly chapped lips. “I’d really like that.”
His face splits into a grin, though she only catches the briefest flash of it before he’s kissing her again, enthusiastically sliding his mouth against hers in time with the way his hands greedily pull her closer. Robin looks utterly dazed when they break apart for the third time, shaking his head in wonder. “You have to stop distracting me. I was going to give you your gift first.”
She laughs, brushing snow off his cheek with one hand. God, but he’s irresistible with a cold-flushed face. She must be in deep if she even thinks the way his nose is running is cute. “I’m not doing anything.”
Robin’s eyes drop back to the journal in his lap. He nods at it when he says, “This is something. To me. It was – thoughtful.”
Well, it should be. Pretty much all she does lately is think about him. “I mean, you are in my thoughts.”
He huffs, looking torn. She realizes he’s trying to stop himself from kissing her again when he pulls back with great restraint, hand fumbling in his jacket pocket for what must be her present. “Just wait until after I’ve given you this to say stuff like that, okay? I can barely concentrate as it is.”
“Sorry,” she murmurs, slipping her mittens off and turning the small box over in her hands. It’s impossible to tell what it is from its size alone, so she works on the paper, delicately lifting the sloppily-taped-down corners up and running her nail along the seam to slowly pull the plain red wrapping off.
It’s a jewelry box, soft crushed velvet turning damp from the still-falling snow. She pops it open and is surprised to see a dainty four-leaf clover necklace winking back at her, one tiny stone glittering from the pendant.
“You’re my lucky charm, you know?” The sound of Robin’s voice tears her eyes away from the necklace and sets her gaze back on him. There’s a quiet intensity on his expression that’s impossible to look away from, his tone pitched to match it. “My life’s done a completely one-eighty since I met you, Josie. You’re just… God, you’re one-of-a-kind.”
His look turns sheepish. He rubs the back of his neck shyly. “This was the part where I was going to say the girlfriend thing.”
She doesn’t even know where to start. It’s impossibly overwhelming, thinking that Robin likes her as much as she likes him. There’s so many things about herself she assumes should be detractors, to someone like him.
But he’s the only person she’s ever met that she hasn’t had to hide a single flaw from. And he never saw any of her personality quirks that way, anyway.
Her fingers fiddle with the silver chain in her lap. “Did you – you practiced that?”
“A potentially embarrassing amount of times,” he confirms, though his grin conveys anything but embarrassment. She understands the sentiment exactly; it’s hard to care about anything, just then.
She hands him the necklace and twists wordlessly so Robin can help her get it on. He does, sliding the clasp into place on the first try – impressive, given he must have little to no feeling in his fingertips, this late in the day – and smiles at her when she spins back around. “Perfect fit.”
God help her, but they are. Somehow, despite the fact that it makes no sense and how life isn’t actually supposed to work in the strange and mysterious ways that always happen in romantic comedies, where your literal perfect match who compliments you in every way possible randomly falls into your lap – they are.
“I love it,” she murmurs, more than mildly overwhelmed. None of her past relationships had ever felt like this. “Thank you.”
“Thank you.” His eyes search her face, making her hold perfectly still, lest she disturb whatever it is he’s looking for. “You’re remarkable.”
“And you’re a flatterer,” she teases, pressing one last, lingering kiss to his lips before sighing, “Who’s going to worry his mom sick driving through a storm. You should really get going.”
Robin’s arms tighten around her. “I don’t want to,” he answers petulantly. “You can’t make me.”
One eyebrow arches skeptically. She digs her fingers into the ticklish spot at his side, and he practically leaps off the bench, pouting at her all the way. “Unfair,” Robin laughs, “You know that’s a dirty trick.”
“Dirty, but effective.” It’s really coming down, now – thick, fluffy white flakes that are starting to accumulate on the grass up to their ankles. Soon there’ll be too much snow for her to walk the rest of the way home.
“I want so badly to make a joke,” Robin sighs wistfully, hugging the journal to his chest. The gold stamped r stares back at her from behind his forearms. “Just know I’m restraining myself for you.”
“How noble,” she snorts, pushing carefully to her feet, too. No matter how much they both dawdle, today has to end sometime. “Can I walk you to your car?”
“I feel like I should be the one asking you that,” he muses, “But, yeah. That’d be cool.”
They trudge through the snow slowly, the weight of their impending goodbye almost stifling. Cedarport is pointedly quiet around them, deserted and hushed with the heavy snow that’s starting to come down hard. If they weren’t in such a miserable situation, it’d be beautiful.
Robin’s car is covered enough that it’ll need to be brushed off before he can drive when they finally stop at the side of it, but he makes no move to get going, turning to stare at her again.
“Want me to drive you home?”
She shakes her head. It’s a short walk from this part of town, and, anyway, “You really should go before it gets worse. The visibility’s going to be bad as-is.”
“Well, maybe that’s a sign I should stay one more night, then.” Robin’s grin turns cheesy, too-wide and suggestive. “Would you stay the night with me? So I don’t get lonely?”
Josie laughs, reaching out to smack his shoulder. “Your mom is expecting you, you dork. And I don’t want to fall out of her good graces.”
“Fair enough,” he sighs, “Because you definitely are.” There’s a beat, and then he grows more serious, lifting his hand to her cheek again. “I will miss you, though.”
“I’ll miss you, too,” she returns, suddenly shy under the full force of his attention. Robin’s smile widens as his cold hand cups her jaw. “But – I’ll text you nonstop, so. It won’t be so bad.”
“I guess there’s a silver lining to this after all,” he says, before closing the distance between them to kiss her one last time, so thoroughly she’s left shivering for reasons that have nothing to do with the cold.
It’s an hour before Robin finally texts her, but she’d expected that, given the weather and the evening traffic. They’re in the middle of dinner, at her house, but she pulls her phone out under the table to sneak a glance at it and is so lost in her thoughts she almost falls out of her chair when Charlie asks, “Okay, why do you look like that? It’s making me sick.”
Stuffing her phone away hastily, she rushes to say, “It’s nothing,” even though the words Just got home. I already can’t wait to get out of here and see you again run through her mind on a loop for the rest of the evening.