Almost Paradise (Sinners on Tour Book 8) (10 page)

“Congratulations on your marriage,” the man said in parting.

“Thanks!”

It was a long, long drive to Niagara Falls and they had this stuff up north called black ice, which made the roads treacherous and Eric proclaim their impending deaths on a recurring basis.

“You’re a great driver,” Rebekah told him over and over again, as if that would keep the VW’s tires from slipping. They were just outside of Buffalo when thick, fluffy flakes of snow began to fall.

Eric leaned forward in his seat to peer up at the gray sky. “We’ll never make it in this. Maybe we should find someplace to stop.”

“We’re almost there,” she said as she consulted her phone’s map. “Less than twenty miles.”

“Well, if we die, we’ll go together.”

“Stop saying we’re going to die. Look how beautiful it is.”

The large snowflakes quickly covered the dead grass along the side of the road and coated gnarled tree branches in a blanket of white. After gazing at a thousand miles worth of dormant vegetation, the snow appeared magical.

“Reminds me of the white sand beaches of Tahiti,” Eric said under his breath. “Except it’s deadly and it’s cold.”

“You’re the one who wanted to go to Niagara Falls.”

“It always looks warm there on the postcards!”

After paying a toll to cross a long steep bridge that had Rebekah clinging to the dashboard and praying to sweet baby Jesus, they found themselves in an expanse of wilderness. The emptiness seemed strange after having just skirted a city through an industrial zone.

“Are you sure this is the right way?” Eric asked.

She consulted her navigation app again. “I’m sure. We’re right on course.”

As if trying to refute her claim, the minibus hit a patch of ice and fishtailed. Eric tried to keep them in their lane, but he overcorrected, sending them into a spin that made Rebekah’s stomach turn. Eventually they came to a halt with the back wheels off the side of the road and the windshield facing oncoming traffic.

“Are you okay?” Eric asked.

“Yeah.” She was pretty sure if she elaborated, she’d be sick.

“Well, that was fun.” He laughed.

Her eyes popped open wide. “Fun?”

“It felt like an amusement park ride.”

“I guess it wasn’t as bad as that crazy contraption at the top of the Stratosphere.” She’d felt closer to death then than she did now. “Are we stuck?” She peered out the window at the chaotic tire tracks they’d made in the fresh snow.

Eric shifted into first gear and tried to coax the vehicle out of the ditch. Both rear tires whirred noisily, kicking up plumes of snow as she watched in the side mirror.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to get out and push,” he said.

“Me?”

“You know the minibus won’t run for you.”

Rebekah glared at him. “You planned this all along, didn’t you?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, his sarcasm thick. “I couldn’t wait to slide off into a ditch so I could make you get out and push.”

“That’s what I thought,” she grumbled. Still, she crammed her hands into her gloves and pulled on a stocking cap, zipped her coat up to her chin, and then braved the wintery outdoors. She could have sworn she heard Eric snigger when she slammed the door.

“Don’t stand behind the tires,” he called out of his open window. “I don’t want you to get hit by flying debris.”

“Your concern is touching,” she yelled angrily.

“Are you ready?”

She slapped both gloved palms on the back of the bus and put her weight behind her push. “Ready!”

The tires spun slowly, as if Eric were afraid to hurt her by gunning it, but she was pissed off enough to find uncommon strength. The wheels found a bit of traction and with a loud roar, the bus popped up onto the shoulder and halfway into an oncoming lane. Luckily, the road was deserted except for the enormous yellow snowplow headed directly for them.

“Oh shit!” she heard Eric yell as he directed the van onto the narrow shoulder.

Rebekah scrambled to duck behind the Volkswagen as the plow roared past, the giant blade scraping the asphalt and spraying snow and salt and debris all over their vehicle. Some rained down on Rebekah’s back as she crouched and covered her head with both arms, but most missed her entirely.

“Rebekah?” Eric’s door swung open and he jumped out. “Rebekah!”

“I’m fine.” She squeaked when he lifted her out of her huddle and into his arms for a mighty hug.

“I’m sorry I made you get out to push. We should have just called Triple A.”

“Too late now,” she said as he set her on her feet.

“I can’t believe you got us out of that ditch.” He nodded at the idling VW before swatting Rebekah on the butt. “My woman is badass.”

“And don’t you forget it,” she said, laughing as she circled the van and settled into her seat. Eric climbed in beside her, and she pointed to the road in the opposite direction. “Follow that snow plow.”

Once Eric got the vehicle turned around, they crawled along the deserted highway, Eric having learned his lesson about speed and slippery roads, and made it to their hotel without further mishap.

Their accommodations weren’t opulent, but she could see the fast-flowing Niagara River out their window. The falls weren’t visible from this vantage, however. Their location was situated behind the falls. Rebekah scrunched her brow at yet another disappointing view. She vowed to demand a good view when they got to Tahiti. This was her honeymoon, for heavens’ sake.

“I think we have to stay on the Canadian side to be able to see the falls from our hotel room,” she said.

“Canadians take all the good stuff,” Eric said, unzipping his coat and hanging it in the closet.

Including her brother’s ability to walk, she thought darkly. Though she knew the bus accident that had partially paralyzed Dave wasn’t Canada’s fault, she couldn’t help but feel the entire area was bad luck for her family. Technically, she was still in the United States, but she was close enough to the Canadian border that it had sent her and Eric flying off in a ditch.

“Why are you taking off your coat? I want to see the falls before it gets dark.” Seeing as it got dark around noon this far north—not really, but it sure felt that way to her—they probably had less than an hour to venture out.

“It’s cold out.”

“It’s not that bad. Just a few degrees below freezing.”

“And still snowing.”

“We should enjoy it while we can. I never get to see snow back home unless I go up into the mountains.”

“It’s cold out,” he said again. “And you promised you wouldn’t let me freeze my ass off.”

“You have snow pants,” she reminded him.

He huffed out a resigned sigh. “Fine.”

He bundled himself up as if he were going to climb Mt. Everest and the peak had magically been transported to the South Pole.

“You’re going to suffocate,” she warned as she wrapped a scarf around her neck.

“Vru zay tat dow,” came from somewhere in the layers covering his face.

“What?”

He tugged his mouth from its twenty layers of scarf. “You say that now.” Using thickly gloved hands, he fumbled with the scarf to cover his face again.

They ventured out into the twilight-lit park just across the street from their hotel. There were few others out braving the cold, but those who were gaped at the tall, bundled-up abomination who was holding her hand and walking like a penguin to keep from slipping. A cold, damp breeze blew through Rebekah’s jeans and she shivered. Perhaps Eric, in his ridiculous snowsuit, had the right idea after all.

The park stretched out in both directions where the path divided to follow the river. They followed a partially snow-covered sign to the falls. The mist churning up from the water clung to poles and benches, trash cans and lamps, making everything sparkle with a coating of ice.

“I dan ear duh faws,” Eric said.

“What?”

He braved a few seconds of frigid temperatures to tug his scarf down. “I can hear the falls.”

She stopped and tugged her earmuff from her head to listen. Frozen branches creaked overhead, Eric’s boots scraped along the sidewalk several steps, and a truck beeped rhythmically as it backed up somewhere in the distance, but over it all she heard the thunderous roar of thousands of gallons of water tumbling over the falls. The sound felt out of place among the slumber of the ice-coated trees and the peacefully floating snowflakes, but as they walked past the bluff and she could see the river gushing over the edge and crashing against the rocks below, her breath caught. Along the edges where the water flowed less chaotically, long icicles had formed to frame the waterfall with cascades of water frozen in time.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, her words lost in the thunder of the falls.

“Wreftakeh,” Eric said.

She glanced up into a familiar pair of eyes. The rest of him was unrecognizable. “What?”

He jerked his scarf down around his neck and left it there. “Breathtaking,” he repeated.

She cuddled against him, her cheeks freezing, her eyes stinging from the cold, her breath hot and moist in her scarf. But on the inside she was warm just because Eric was near.

“I’m glad we came in winter,” he said close to her covered ear.

“Even at risk of freezing your ass off?”

“Yep. It’s enchanting.”

She had to agree. She was sure the falls were beautiful year round, but she couldn’t imagine anything more beautiful than the ice formations along the edges. At least she thought that until Canada turned on the colored lights across the way and the water and ice and freezing mist took on a hued glow.

“Wow.”

Eventually they returned to their room. Except for parts of his face, Eric was toasty warm. Rebekah, on the other hand, was completely frozen.

“That’s the last time you make fun of my snow pants and parka,” Eric said as Rebekah shed her clothes and climbed between the covers, her teeth chattering.

“Come warm me up,” she said, stretching out beckoning arms in his direction.

“No way in hell, woman.” He dropped his coat on top of her.

It was still warm from his body heat, and she burrowed into it gratefully.

“Order some soup,” she said. “And hot chocolate and coffee and tea and anything else that’s warm.”

“So bossy,” he said as he picked up the phone.

“Please,” she added, curling into a small ball as she tried to fit her entire body into his coat. Tahiti was sounding pretty nice at the moment. If they got an early start, they’d reach Bangor late the next day and then they could head off to those warm sand beaches Eric had wanted from the start.

The storm blew over during the night, dumping several inches of snow first. The locals assured them that they’d gotten off easy. This time of year, lake-effect conditions could drop several feet of snow from one storm. Rebekah couldn’t even wrap her head around that amount of snow on the ground. The minivan protested mightily when Eric started her, but he let her run while he used his new ice scraper to clear the windshield. The Volkswagen was used to mild Californian temperatures as well. It obviously didn’t appreciate being forced to run on a cold December morning. Rebekah wasn’t running so well herself. The only thing that had managed to warm her the night before was Eric’s hot, lean body, but she doubted he’d be willing to strip off his clothes to make love to her in the back of the van just then.

The city streets were treacherous, but the highways were clear. She marveled at how quickly the roadways had been made passable. There were a few slick spots, and Eric took it slower than he normally would—he was a bit of a lead foot—but Rebekah’s anxiety was soon replaced with wonder as she watched the stark white scenery slip by her window.

“Have you decided if you’re going to meet your grandparents yet?” she asked as nonchalantly as possible. She was curious how he truly felt about this idea of hers. The closer they got to their destination, the more she worried that coercing Eric to meet these people was a terrible mistake. But these people were his
grandparents
. Grandparents were always wonderful, loving individuals. What could possibly go wrong?

“I’ll decide when we get there,” he said, never taking his eyes off the road.

Her heart ached for him. She could only imagine the thoughts tumbling through his mind. How hurt would he be if they didn’t accept him? And if they did, would it make him truly happy? That was all she wanted for him, his happiness. But now she wasn’t so sure she’d forced him down the right path.

Please, God, let them love him as much as I do, she prayed silently.

When Eric’s stomach rumbled its desire for lunch, he realized Rebekah’s plan to get to Bangor that night just wasn’t going to happen. They’d just entered Vermont and it was already after noon. Eric knew she wanted him to have enough time for a long, happy visit the next day before they caught their plane to Tahiti, but winter driving was stressful for seasoned Northerners. Eric was so tense by noon that he felt like he might snap in half. He tried to convince himself that his granny-on-Sunday driving was due to the road conditions, not the idea that when they reached Bangor, he’d be forced into a very uncomfortable situation. He knew well what kind of person his mother had been. She wasn’t the first woman to choose drugs over providing a loving, stable home for her child. More than likely, she’d come from a similar home and didn’t know how to break the cycle of drug abuse and child neglect.

He was probably lucky he’d never met his so-called grandparents.

Yeah. Lucky.

Eric rubbed at the tension in his face with one hand, and tilted his head side to side to relieve the drum-head tight muscles in his neck.

“Why don’t we stop somewhere for the night?” Rebekah asked.

Eric took his eyes off the road just long enough to gape at her. “This early?” He knew how much she liked that schedule she’d pretended to abandon days ago.

“We can make a snowman.” She smiled. The concern in her pretty blue eyes ate at his gut. He needed to do a better job at pretending he wasn’t freaking out about what lay ahead in Bangor.

“I can go a bit farther,” Eric said.

Rebekah perked up and offered him a cheery smile. “Does that mean you’re excited to meet your grandparents?”

He’d promised not to lie to her. “Not in the least.”

Rebekah’s shoulders slumped and she turned her attention back to the snowy landscape outside her steamed-over window.

Maybe it was a good time to stop. He began to scan the sides of the road for accommodations.

“That looks quaint,” Eric said as they zoomed past an ancient roadside motel. If quaint actually meant cheap and sleazy. “Let’s check it out.”

Rebekah opened her mouth and he thought she would protest his idea, but after she scanned his face, she nodded. “I’m in.”

Damn, he must look as shitty as he felt. A nap would do him good. He found a place to turn around and headed back to the inn.

Their room was clean, but dismal. Eric groaned at the uninviting bed. “I was considering a nap, but…” He wrapped his arms around Rebekah’s shoulders and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “I think we’ve finally found it.”

“What?”

“The
opposite
of paradise.” He’d meant it as a joke, but she stiffened.

“We’ll be in your beloved Tahiti in less than two days,” she said. “I think you’ll survive.” She shrugged out of his grasp and yanked the worn, floral-patterned bedspread from the nearest full-sized bed before wadding it into a ball and tossing it on the floor. “There. Is that a little closer to paradise for you?”

Ignoring her testiness, he flopped face first onto the mattress, which squeaked like a colony of mice lived inside—because they probably did. “Maybe I’ll dream of paradise,” he said, before dropping off to sleep.

Less than an hour later, his eyes popped open and he announced, “I need food, fun and fucked, in that order.”

Rebekah, who was standing near the window, turned up her nose. “We’re going to have to do it standing up, because I’m not touching any surfaces in this place.”

“Shower sex then,” he said, springing from the bed and dropping a kiss on her neck.

“Only if I can wear my flip flops.”

He chuckled, imagining how adorable she’d look with her legs wrapped around his hips, flip-flops dangling from her toes. “Let’s go eat before we attempt fucking in flip-flops. I’m starving.”

The food at the nearby restaurant was surprisingly delicious and roach-free. Rebekah seemed much less cranky after she’d eaten, which was good, because he always wanted a smile on her face. On their walk back to the motel, Eric found the fun he’d demanded. “Let’s build a snowman.”

“A snowman? I thought you hated the cold.”

“Explicitly,” he said, and dashed to the VW for his snow pants, parka and other arctic gear. “And you were the one who suggested it, remember?”

Neither of them had ever constructed a snowman, but Eric was sure he knew the proper technique. He made the bottom layer by rolling a snowball around the edge of the parking lot. By the time he was satisfied with its size, the frigid ball of dirty, dead-grass flecked snow was waist high.

“I think you overdid it,” Rebekah said, the snowball she’d made for the head far smaller in comparison.

“Nonsense.” The middle snowball was too large for him to push into place by himself, so Rebekah helped him roll it up the side of the massive bottom.

Eric had to stand on tiptoes to put the tiny head on top.

“I don’t think they’re supposed to be this enormous,” Rebekah said, eyeing the tottering structure that towered over her.

Eric packed some extra snow around the snowman’s waist to keep it from collapsing and crushing his wife. “He’s awesome. He just needs a face.”

They scrounged through the Volkswagen for parts, coming up with a few stale cheese curls, a half-eaten Slim Jim, an empty Mountain Dew bottle and a pair of drumsticks.

“I didn’t know you brought drumsticks,” she said as they returned to their giant snowman.

“I never know when an impromptu drum solo might be required.”

Eric lifted Rebekah onto his shoulders and handed her the cheese curls to serve as eyes and the slender bit of greasy sausage for the mouth. He stuck the drumsticks in either side for the arms.

“Give me the nose,” Rebekah said, leaning over his head to peer at him upside down.

“We don’t have a nose,” he said, ramming the green plastic bottle into the snowman at crotch level. “It’s a boy!”

“Eric! That’s totally inappropriate,” she admonished, but she was laughing so hard, she was at risk from toppling from his shoulders. “And some little kid might see it.”

Eric pulled the bottle out of the snow, leaving an open hole behind. “It’s a girl!” He handed the bottle up to Rebekah and, as the bottle was too large for the smallish head, she just used the cap to make the nose. She also pulled off Eric’s hat and slipped it on the snowman’s head.

“Well, now I’m cold,” Eric said as the chill seeped through his sweat-dampened hair. “Let’s go in.”

She didn’t have a choice but to go where he wanted, as he held her trapped on his shoulders, her calves pressed securely into his chest. He nearly knocked her out on the door frame when he entered their rented room. The bed looked more inviting now. Maybe because his companion was laughing now. And he knew that after fun came fucking.

He tumbled her off his shoulders onto the bed, cursing winter tenfold as he struggled to remove layer upon layer of outerwear. He was really looking forward to Tahiti—if for no other reason than having far fewer clothes to remove when the mood struck him.