Snowed In; a novel

Old friends. Fake flames. New feelings?, by Catherine Walsh (a summary by Pat Evert)  

• Prologue 

MEGAN minutes away from walking down the aisle to marry Isaac becomes anxious and comes to her senses. There was a small break in all the preparations and she bolts. She is a run-away bride. 

• Christian

Five years later, an old friend who was last to see the run-away bride is in a Dublin pub seeking a good time, but not finding it. It is like a sweaty, smelly gym locker room, only more crowded and cramped. In the jostle a woman spills her glass of wine down Christian’s shirt. 

• Megan

She was having a bad day. As coincidences will have it, it is Megan, the run-away bride, who spilled the wine on him. She almost faints from dizziness and goes home for the night. 

• Christian 

“That’s one good thing about bad days,” I say, as her face falls. “They always end.” I’m just nervous about going home. It’s been a while.” “How long’s a while? You’re joking? Since the wedding?” “Didn’t exactly leave on the best of terms with everyone. I promised Mam I’d go back this year,” she says, dragging me back to the present. “But between the possibility of bumping into Isaac and seeing everyone else, I keep thinking of excuses not to.” 

• Megan 

Do you want to come up? Do you want to come up and have sex with me, Christian Fitzpatrick? Then step this way. Come right in. Be my freaking guest. I invited him up. Because he’s gorgeous. There’s no depth to my intentions here. I am a shallow lady with shallow needs. Needs that, let’s be honest, that man looks like he would have no problem fulfilling. But ideally, he would also be a stranger while doing so. Someone who doesn’t know about my past and who doesn’t care about my future. Who’s only thinking of tonight. But it wasn’t just my fiancé I left behind at the altar. It was everything. When I left him, I was no longer Megan from down the road. I was the girl who broke his heart. Unfriended, unliked, and unsupported. The level of animosity wasn’t something I was used to. So I stayed away. For everyone’s sakes. And now I was coming back, single and broke. Dropping my head back as I allow myself one moment of stressing about everything before letting it all out. There’ll be plenty of time to worry later, but right now, I deserve to relax. “Neither of us is looking forward to spending Christmas single, but neither of us really has a choice if we don’t want to let our families down. So why don’t we do it together?” “I’m beyond confused. As a couple?” “Not a real one. Will you be my fake girlfriend for Christmas? You wouldn’t be so worried about bumping into Isaac. I wouldn’t be the only single member of my family for another year. We’d each have a partner in crime. Backup.” 

• Christian 

I messaged her Saturday morning, and she still hasn’t replied, and fine, I can take a hint, but like calls to like, and I think she needs this just as much as I do. “I’m not looking for a relationship right now.” “Neither am I.” At least not a real one. I don’t think I could handle something serious for a while. It’s been nothing but one breakup after another these last few years, and I’ll admit it, I’m tired. I’m not trying to trick you,” I tell her. “I’m asking for your help to make the next few weeks a little more bearable for me, and I hope a little more bearable for you.” 

• Megan 

“What happens a month later when we fake break up and everything’s back to normal?” “Would you believe me if I said I’m not thinking that far ahead?” Rules: Number one,” he continues. “No tongue.” Christ. “A little louder, please. I don’t think the people in the back heard you.” “Number two—” “Let’s just say nothing the other person is uncomfortable with,” I say, and he writes it down. “No putting one family above the other. No made-up stories beyond what we’ve agreed to. It will be way too much to keep track of.” I take a moment, thinking. “No telling anybody. No cheating. And no… no backing out.” 

• Christian 

“Mam, I’m bringing someone home for Christmas. She’s from home. It’s Megan O’Sullivan. She hasn’t been home in a while.” “Not since the wedding,” Mam says, her voice dropping to a whisper. She might as well have said the murder. I pick out a picture of Megan and send it to her, seeking permission, and five minutes later, her answer comes through. Okay. And then: You can tag me. And then: Do it before I change my mind. I take her at her word, uploading the photo, and announcing our relationship to every social media account I have. It takes only a few seconds for the first few likes to start coming through. Only a few seconds to make it official. And that’s it. We’re coming home for Christmas.

• Megan 

I told my mother. Think she bought the whole “just bumped into each other” thing. “This is going to be good, okay?” And he sounds so confident, and he looks so confident, that all of my earlier worries vanish from my mind. I want them to like me. And we can learn as much about each other as we want, but we’ve still got to improvise. “We should always hold hands,” I say. “All the time. Whenever anyone else is with us, we are holding hands.” We stop at a pub for dinner. Afterwards we see Isaac in the parking lot. Our eyes meet, and panic surges through me, taking over all reasonable thought. Oh my God. Oh my God. “What do I do?” “What we agreed,” Christian says, his voice low and soothing as they start walking our way. “Just remember, we met in Dublin. We hit it off, and we fell in love.” “Megan?” I drag my eyes to Christian, and I swear it’s like my brain shuts off. It’s the only explanation I have for losing all rational thought. All I can think about is ex-boyfriend and fake boyfriend and kiss here, not there, and before I’m even aware of it, I’m fisting the front of his jacket, rising up on my toes, and pressing my lips to his.

• Christian 

She was glowing on the way up here. And now it’s like it’s all been sucked out of her. Leaving her lifeless. And it’s all because of him. 

• Megan 

I wasn’t prepared at all. Not to see Isaac. Not to meet Natalie. Not to kiss Christian. 

• Christian 

My relationship with my father growing up was complicated at the best of times. He encouraged all of us to pursue our own lives, but he always thought I’d take over the farm. I probably broke his heart, as all shitty kids do. And I don’t think he ever forgave me. “I hear you’ve got yourself a girlfriend.” “Megan. She’s—” “The knitting girl. She used to knit hats for the lambs when she was a child. Her mother would drop them over, bring her sometimes.” The knitting girl. She’ll like that. “Most people think of her as the runaway bride,” I tell him, and he grunts. 

• Megan 

“You’re early,” I whisper. “I couldn’t wait to see you,” he says in a normal voice as Mam roots through the cabinets. “You never told me how you two met.” “She poured a glass of wine over me,” Christian says and looks at me with such convincing affection that I almost blush. Then he ruins it. “While on a date with another man.” In this family, you’re known as the knitting girl.” “You’re doing great,” he whispers, and that’s when I come to understand that my new fake boyfriend is a big old liar.

• Christian 

“What’s that?” she asks, confused. “It’s the lake,” Andrew says. It’s where we spent most of our summers when we were kids and might as well have been a massive waterpark to us with the way we carried on. But I have no desire to dip so much as a toe into it today. “I told her we were just having lunch,” I say, exasperated. “Ruining a romantic plan, am I? She doesn’t have to get in. She wants to impress you.” “Well, consider me impressed,” Andrew says lightly. “Relax. She’s doing great. Honestly, she’s brilliant,” Andrew says. “I love her already.” Megan doesn’t so much as glide along the water as she does power through it, a lot stronger than she looks. I’ve never been competitive, never needed to be, but an unfamiliar sense of pride fills me as I watch her, the urge to shout like the other two growing stronger as I get caught up in the moment. “She’s amazing!” Molly yells, shaking my arm in her excitement, and I can only nod because, yes, she is. Afterward I notice Megan O’Sullivan has freckles. Dozens of them. Maybe hundreds. I’ve never seen them before because I’ve never seen her without makeup, but whatever she was wearing washed off in the lake, and now she’s here with her face tinged pink and dotted all over and her gray eyes so bright you’d swear they were lit from within. Something squeezes in my chest, and it becomes hard not to stare at her. Hard not to feel like a piece of shit either. This is the best mood I’ve seen her in since we got back here. And I’m ruining it. “She’s using you,” Hannah says. “I’m sorry, Christian, but it’s as clear as day to everyone but you. You don’t think it’s a little odd?” she continues. “You don’t think it’s even a little suspicious that her ex-fiancé gets engaged, and after years of being away, she coincidentally returns to the village with you on her arm? She’s using you to make her look good. She doesn’t love you,” she says bluntly. “I know when people are in love with each other. “Something’s up with that girl. I know it.” “And what if there is?” I ask, starting to feel tired. “What if I don’t care? I’m not in love with her either, Hannah. We’re just taking things as they come. But I like spending time with her, and she likes spending time with me, and I would really, really appreciate it if you stopped making her feel like shit every time you look at her. Hannah. If you don’t trust her, then trust me. Drop it, okay? But thank you for protecting my honor.”

• Megan 

It’s Saturday night and my brother Aidan wants me to go out for drink with him and won’t take no for an answer. We walk in the pub and many of my old friends are there especially Sofie O’Meara, a bestie, all give me the cold shoulder and begin talking gossip among themselves. 

• Christian 

“What did I do? Date his sister? He should be happy about that. I’m considered a real catch around here.” “Who considers that?” “My mother. You were brilliant today,” I say, and she brightens slightly. “Yeah?” “Yeah. Mam thinks you’re great, and Andrew won’t stop talking about your swimming.” “So I passed?” “Flying colors.” I remind her. “If someone makes you feel like shit, you’re supposed to tell me. You call me, and no matter where you are or what time it is, I’ll pick up and I’ll come running. That’s the whole point of this.” 

“No, I’m sorry. I don’t care that it’s been a while. You can’t just show up here like nothing happened and expect us to pretend we haven’t seen you in five years. You were selfish.” And I’m wondering just how much yelling will be allowed before we’re all kicked out when three things happen at once. Cormac whips around to see the commotion, bringing the two sticks he’s holding with him. One narrowly avoids Megan’s forehead as I tug her back, and I’m so focused on her that I don’t see the other one until it’s too late. She gasps as the heavy wood connects with my face, and for a split second, I hover in that gray area between impact and pain. And then, just for a moment, everything goes black.

• Megan 

Everyone else has gone quiet, tempers dying as quickly as they flared. “I think this is going really, really well,” he deadpans. “I think you got hit in the face with a pool stick,” I tell him. “I think everyone is suspicious as hell, and I think we still have to get through Christmas.” 

Despite the other night being an unmitigated catastrophe, it also kind of wasn’t. Hannah didn’t seem to think I was the worst person in the world anymore, and Aidan finally opened his eyes to the fact that not everyone was pleased to have me home. “So you can’t have the fundraiser?” “Not at Cliffside, anyway,” she says. I’ve already rung around, and we’ve confirmed space at—” She cuts off abruptly, her eyes widening in alarm. “They have space at the Regency,” she says reluctantly. The Regency Hotel. Where I was supposed to get married. That’s where she’s throwing it? I know in a heartbeat that if I told her I wasn’t fine, she wouldn’t go through with it. She wouldn’t go through with any of it. But this fundraiser isn’t about me. 

• Christian 

“Megan. Look at me. I’m not backing out. I’m not doing that to you.” “Can you teach me to dance?” Megan glances at me in surprise as a delighted look crosses Mam’s face. “I suppose I could,” she says, sounding a little girlish. I mean, you have to understand, I’d been with Isaac since I was fifteen. Do you know how much you have ahead of you at fifteen? A lot,” she confirms. “And it was all intertwined with him. I went to the same college as him so we could be together. I applied for jobs to be close to him. And then, all of a sudden, I was by myself. Just like that. Twenty-five years old, and I might as well have been a kid with how much I knew about being alone. I was terrified.” “A runaway bride is a lot cheaper than a divorce. And a lot more fun.” “Stop trying to make me feel better.” Hannah takes another step, unusually hesitant. “I was wondering,” she begins, her eyes flicking to me. “If… well, I thought I could make you a dress.” “I think it would really suit you,” she says, ignoring me as she focuses on Megan. “I’ll have to make a few alterations, but no one else will be wearing anything like it. Really, you’d be stupid not to—” What I’m saying is, I’d love to dress you. If you like it, of course. And if you don’t already have something in mind.” Her face falls. “Do you?” “No!” Megan says the word so quickly that I know it’s a lie. “I was going to go shopping tomorrow, so you’ll be saving me a whole morning of trouble. And apology accepted.”

• Megan 

Swathes of red velvet ribbons around the room or dust the glittering chandeliers that hang above us. Several hundred people mill about the main ballroom, all dressed in their finest as photographers slink in and out, and the whole place feels alive with excitement. “Well, here I am,” I say with a rigid smile. “In the flesh.” Over and over, they approach with the same questions and the same comments, some a little more pointed than others. With each question, I get better at answering what I want to and brushing off what I don’t. Christian charms them and then I swoop in, reminding them to bid, marveling at the auctions. Christian plays the part perfectly. He doesn’t stop touching me for the rest of the evening. His hand on my back, my arm, my elbow. Like he knows I need it. Because I do. and when the band takes to the stage, and the dancing starts, he pulls me to the floor without hesitation. He just likes it, spinning me around like we’re the only two people there. Like this night is just for us. And just for a moment, just for one fairy-tale second, I wish this was real. All of it. 

I meet Isaac on the patio. “There’s not going to be a wedding. It’s not happening,” he continues. “The wedding. The relationship. Any of it. We broke it off six weeks ago.” No wedding. No… “You’re pretending you’re still in a relationship?” “Two failed engagements and I’m not even thirty.” He shakes his head. “It’s like a soap opera.” Isaac looks annoyed. “He can wait a few more minutes. You owe me that at least.” “I owe you nothing.” I shove his jacket at him. “Goodnight.”

• Christian 

That damn dress – I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone more beautiful than her tonight. every time I look at her, I have to keep reminding myself that this isn’t real. I could barely breathe when I saw her back at the house. Could barely think. I still can’t. This was an important night. One I’m at risk of ruining because I can’t keep my hands off her. As I follow her across the room to her mother, I realize I’m getting so good at pretending that I’m starting to fool myself.

• Megan 

“I don’t get it,” he says finally. “Why did you run?” “The tipping point was when he sabotaged my career. He pretended to be me and turned down a job I wanted. Because he was a controlling dick,” I say. “Because he had been for years. We did what he wanted to do. All the time. Always. School, college. What restaurants we went to. What we did on the weekends. He had our whole lives planned out. I was just along for the ride.” It was the first and only time in our relationship that I stood up for what I wanted, and he acted like I was trying to break us apart. I don’t like who I was back then. I didn’t want you to know me as her. I wanted you to think of me as I am now, and I… I wanted you to like me.” I take a deep breath, but that’s a mistake because my head fills with the woody, spicy smell of him, and I swear I can feel it, whatever the new thing is between us. Feel it like it’s a tangible thing. “I like you,” he says, his voice rough. “I like you a lot.” The noise I make when his lips meet mine would embarrass me in any other circumstance with any other man, but with Christian, I quickly forget about it as we collide in a messy, slightly desperate way that sends a bolt of heat through me. We haven’t kissed without reason before, without an audience, but there’s no one watching us now, no one to convince or deceive, just him and me and the sudden harshness of our breaths when we come up for air. “Our extremely official contract?” I pluck it from his hands. I smooth the napkin out, making a careful line through the words ‘No tongue’. “Some tongue,” I announce, adding in the correction. “Much clearer.” As he pulls onto the road, reading through the rest of our terms. “We’re pretty good at this.” “You think?” “Yeah.” The word is muffled by a yawn. “I think we should do it every year.”

• Christian 

Three days before Christmas and Molly’s sister surprises them with a visit. She wants to take Molly shopping, not knowing Andrew had a surprise get away in the woods for a day or two and to propose to her. As Andrew’s plans are ruined, Andrew asks if Christian can go in his place to receive the food that is being delivered there. Christian says he will and decides to take Megan with him and enjoy the evening alone. 

• Megan 

Yes, Christian, I will help you collect some food in exchange for spending a few hours in a luxury cabin I’d never be able to afford otherwise. I will make that sacrifice for you. You’re welcome. 

“You [Isaac] knew I was unhappy, but you didn’t care. Because I always had to be the one to follow you. Your college, your apartment, your job. I had to mold my entire life around yours, and I couldn’t go to the pub with my friends without running it by you first. I couldn’t turn my phone off during a movie because I had to be in constant contact with you, and God forbid I didn’t answer your text in five minutes, or you’d call me. I couldn’t even wear this coat because you didn’t like it and I love this coat. I love it. You’re controlling, and needy, and you lie, and you never listened to me. You never even knew me…” “You can’t just keep ignoring what happened between you two,” Christian tries again. What he did.” “Watch me. Can we please just go to the cabin?”

• Christian 

Her standing there in snow-soaked jeans pushing all her anger and hurt to the side to help me. Her with her hands on her hips and her smudged mascara from rubbing her eyes in the car. Something changes in that moment, and all of a sudden I wish I’d never thought of this plan. I wish I could go back to her apartment that first night and sit on her couch and kiss her like she should always be kissed. Like how she should be right now. And there’d be no pretending about it. 

“I don’t give a shit about that anymore, okay?” “But I agreed to—” “I think what we agreed to pretty much went out the window after your mother’s party,” I say, and her cheeks go pink. Andrew sent me up with Megan to get things ready. We are snowed in at the cabin and Molly and her sister are stuck in traffic. We are stuck for the night. And the real storm is yet to hit. 

After sleeping a whole day plus we are snowed in. If I weren’t so annoyed by it, I’d find it beautiful. “Yes, we’re stuck. But it will be a day or two at most. We have plenty of food and plenty to do. We’ll be fine. What I wanted was to have a good Christmas. And I have a feeling that’s exactly what I’ve gotten.”

• Megan 

The living room has been transformed. It’s a vision from a storybook. Nat King Cole croons softly from the stereo, and the television plays an old black-and-white movie with the volume turned down low. The strings of fairy lights we’d found bundled in one of the cabinets have been detangled and strung both around the room and the furniture. Besides the roaring fire, they’re the only source of light, and it casts the place in a warm, safe glow that makes me feel instantly at ease. The table is filled with dishes, all of it far too much for two people, and from the look of it, all vegetarian. Dips and sauces are dotted in between the different foods, and I count at least three, no four different kinds of potatoes. The man has cooked us a feast. I’ve never been with a guy who had washboard abs. And not on people who have made it exceedingly clear that they find me attractive and wouldn’t mind taking things up a notch. I step forward, leaving my comforting robe behind… and freeze at the same time Christian does. His eyes pin me in place before I’ve even left the kitchen, staring at me like I’d just been staring at him. Only he’s not even trying to hide his interest, taking his time as his eyes rake over my body in a way that makes me want to press my thighs together, and I… love it. 

• Christian 

And then she walks onto the porch in that bikini, and the last thing I’m thinking about is being in any way platonic. I could barely handle seeing her in a swimsuit, for God’s sake, and that covered a lot more skin than she’s showing now. I don’t know what it is about her that makes me feel like a teenager again trying to catch the eye of a girl for the first time, but I’m enormously glad I’m already in the water when she approaches. “I guess it never occurred to me to try being alone,” she admits. “Even though I had no idea what I was looking for or what I even wanted. I never met anyone who lasted more than a few weeks, maybe a few months. I stopped defining myself by my connection to other people. “I learned that I needed to find myself before I could find someone else.” “And did you?” Her smile slips back. “Yeah. Turns out I’m great.” “I could have told you that,” I say. And now I’m the one who can’t draw a breath. How I’ll never be able to say no to this person. How I’m completely at her mercy. “This doesn’t feel like pretend,” she says quietly. She’s kissing me. It’s a hungry kiss, all tongues and teeth, and gasping breaths, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on in my life. I love kissing Megan. She does it with an enthusiasm I’m not used to. Like she’s not scared to show how much she wants me. She smiles a sexy little smile that tells me she knows exactly the power she has over me. 

• Megan 

I see him looking at me like… well, like I’ve never been looked at before. “You say the word, and we stop, okay? Anytime. I wanted you the moment I saw you in that wedding dress. Should have run away with you,” I would trust Christian Fitzpatrick with my life, and lying here before him, I realize with complete certainty that I trust him with my heart too. Wherever that may lead me. He only stops when I tell him to, beg him to, too sensitive for so much as a kiss. He presses into me, going so slowly I can hardly bear it. I can certainly feel it, though, every inch of him a delicious stretch that I never want to end. When he can finally go no more, he pauses, letting me get used to him. And the fire crackles and the fairy lights dance, and I feel so warm and so cherished and so loved that I know what this is, whatever we have, it’s different.

• Christian 

I got to know her freckles intimately last night. Her freckles and her curves, and the scar just above her left knee. The tattoo on her hip. I especially liked that. A small smattering of stars that I discovered on one of my many inventories of her body. I couldn’t stop touching her. “Would it be weird if we stayed here forever?” “No,” I say instantly, and she laughs. Later Andrew and Molly arrive who originally rented the cabin and we head home. 

• Megan 

“Molly saw the rose petals. Andrew ordered them to propose. How many situations can you think of where your boyfriend whisks you away to a cabin getaway and orders two buckets of rose petals? She knows. Or guessed at least.” Looking at the rigid hold of her shoulders, at her head turned firmly to the side window. If she’s guessed what Andrew was planning, she doesn’t look very happy about it. 

“I wanted to apologize,” Sophie says. “For what I said in the pub. And for everything that came before it. I’m sorry you couldn’t tell me what was going on. I couldn’t sleep the other night thinking about it. That you felt you had to do it all by yourself. God, you should have seen it. When we overheard you the other day? I’ve never seen Cormac so angry. He just lost it. And Aidan… I’m surprised they didn’t get into a fight sooner. The truth should have come out years ago.” She grins when I do, her face lighting up just like it used to. Back when we were younger. Back when we were friends. It feels like the beginning of something. “Andrew just messaged,” Christian says, holding up his phone. “Molly definitely knows about the proposal. She started freaking out when it was just the two of them, and when they got back. She ran.”

• Christian 

“I saw the rose petals, and it all clicked and I—” She takes a shaky breath. “And I realized what you were planning,” she says, her voice breaking. “And that I’d messed it all up by planning the exact same thing. And I felt awful because I ruined your proposal.” “And I ruined yours. No time like the present,” he says, grinning up at Molly like he planned this all along. Andrew gets on one knee and says, “Your turn.” It takes her a second to realize what’s happening, and when she does, she blinks rapidly before moving jerkily to the floor, mirroring his stance. “Molly Kinsella—I love you,” he says simply. “And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?” “Yes,” she says. “Will you marry me?” Andrew spins her around with such joy you have to wonder if the whole world can feel it. 

Like we’ve gone straight back to the beginning. With no idea what to do, or what the other wants. And though I don’t want to admit it, it scares me just a little. You don’t have as many failed relationships as I do without getting a little cautious.

• Megan 

[Christian] I was thinking, what am I going to do if she wants to stick to the plan? If, in a couple of days, she shakes my hand, and we go our separate ways. What the hell am I going to do? Because the thing is, the biggest thing I’ve realized is that this is real to me. All of it. And I’ve been trying to figure out when it stopped being pretend, but I can’t put my finger on it. “I’m falling in love with you,” he says and my heart squeezes like a fist. “I’m falling hard and fast and I don’t want to stop. But I don’t expect you to feel the same way. I swear, I don’t. We can take this slow, and if that means breaks or time apart, then we can do that. But I want you to know where I stand. I want to spend next Christmas with you, Megan. And every day in between. I want to wake up knowing I’m going to see you. I want to know everything there is to know about you and I want to start right now.” “And I think I’m falling in love with you too.” “You want to try this? For real?” “I do.” “No backing out?” “No backing out.” And as the exclamations of wonder start behind us, as the bonfire crackles and the stars glint overhead, I lift my lips to his once more and seal it all with a kiss.

• Megan – One Year Later

“No second thoughts?” Hannah continues and gives me a wicked grin over her shoulder. Molly doesn’t notice, too busy staring at her reflection like she doesn’t recognize the girl gazing back at her. She’s a beautiful bride. This is a proper Irish wedding. It’s big. It’s a party. And at Christmastime, no less. There’s a lot of guests down there. Hannah made all our dresses, deep forest-green ones that she designed as a present to her brother. It happened pretty quickly when we came back after Christmas last year. The two of us were inseparable, and by March, I was spending so much time at his that I had basically moved in. And when he officially asked me to one morning in bed, I said yes. One day, I came home from work to find he’d painted the bedroom a soft pink and added an incredibly comfy yet slightly ugly armchair to the living room. He put it next to the midcentury lounge chair by the bookcase, so I could knit while he read. Bit by bit, we transformed the apartment from his into ours. Until it felt like my home too. Three months ago, Aidan officially left Australia. It wasn’t as easy as packing his bags. Christian closer to his dad too. I think he’s spent more time with his dad in the last year than he ever did in his life, and the effect is noticeable. No more awkward conversations where they’re both scared they’re going to say something to set the other off, no more arguments, no more tension. They still might not know how to communicate fully with each other, but they’re getting there. Christian stands next to his brother with the biggest smile on his face, all his attention on me. I am, as I seem to be more and more lately, right where I want to be. Right where I need to.