A Trip to Remember by Meg Harding

Chapter One
     
    T HE CITY was blanketed in snow. The roads were slick with it; the cars parked along the side nothing more than large lumps of white. Snowflakes continued to fall from the sky in an endless stream, buffeted about by a not-so-gentle wind.
    A blow-up Santa went sailing down the street, borne away on a particularly strong gust. Candy canes lawn ornaments barely poked through the snow. The flickering of lights could hardly be seen through the thick veil of white.
    It was the picture of winter; Christmas spirit in all of its glory.
    Colin hated it.
    A blizzard, the lady from the airport had called to say. No flights were coming in, and none were departing. “I’m sorry, sir,” she’d said. “We can call to let you know when flights resume.”
    He then made the mistake of asking when she thought that would be.
    “Not for another three days, at least,” she’d said. “It’s a bad storm.”
    It might have been rude, after all the weather certainly wasn’t her fault, but he’d hung up then. Three days. In three days it would be the day after Christmas, and he’d have missed the holiday.
    He peeked out his window at the sea of white, cursing it up and down. The lights in his living room flickered. “No,” he pleaded, “no, no.” The lights went out, and his fan slowly wound to a stop. He banged his head against the window and then did it again for good measure.
    After letting the blinds fall shut, he retreated to his bedroom, shedding his clothes along the way. It was six in the morning; he’d get some sleep, and maybe when he woke up the snow would have miraculously stopped, and he’d have power again.
    He wasn’t holding his breath.
    Lying down in his cool sheets (which would soon be very cool indeed as the heating ceased to work), he found he was unable to sleep. All he could focus on was what a disaster this was. He didn’t want to spend Christmas alone. He wanted to spend it with his family at their fancy ski cabin in the mountains, where he could relax and see people he hadn’t seen since the Christmas before.
    Did the weather not know how much it was inconveniencing him?
    Out of habit he unlocked his phone and clicked on the Safari app. He was greeted with a “Service Not Available” page. Right, no power meant no Internet, which also meant no phone.
    Disgusted, he tossed it to the side and rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow. What was he going to do?
    He turned to his side, then to his other side. He flopped to his back and stared up at the ceiling. He wondered if his roof would cave in under the pressure of all the snow. Would his insurance cover that?
    Sleeping was clearly not going to happen. He rolled out of bed, stooping to pick up his shirt from where he’d discarded it by the door. He pulled it on, then a couple feet later bent over to pick up the sweater he’d been wearing over it. He grabbed his pants that he’d left at the end of the hallway and finished getting dressed.
    It was already starting to get cold in the house.
    He got his coat from where it hung next to the door. He tugged it on. He contemplated going back to his room to get a scarf and maybe some gloves; his hands were starting to get cold.
    Shoving his hand into his coat pocket, he felt his car keys. He ran the sharp edge of the key over his thumb and chewed on his bottom lip a bit.
    It would be crazy. No one was driving in this weather.
    Hand still in his pocket, he backtracked to his room and grabbed a scarf and some gloves. He wrapped the scarf around his neck, making sure to knot it just right. He tugged his left glove on, stuck the right in his other pocket. He hunted down a beanie, one of those ridiculous ones with all the fur and earflaps, and put it on.
    Walking back out to the living room, he stuffed his feet into his boots by the door and wrapped his fingers around the handle of his suitcase.
    When he stepped out of his door, his feet sank right into the snow. He grimaced as his pant