Mr. August by Jan Romes

taking off for New Hampshire to see his folks after the book was sent to his editor. Which meant, he needed to keep his butt in the chair until the blasted thing was finished.
    ****
    Max merged off of Route 33 onto I-270 and grumbled under his breath that truck drivers were supposed to move over so people could get on the interstate without having to hit their brakes.
    Libby shifted in her seat. He’d been quiet since they left Celina. On the rare occasion that he did speak, she could tell he was on edge. The road conditions were probably to blame. State trucks had plowed and salted, but they were fighting a losing battle. A heavy batch of fresh snow covered last night’s snow that had partially melted and refroze, making the trip a white-knuckle adventure. Max had taken precautions by loading bags of water softener salt in the back for weight but Libby had felt the car slide a few times. One false move would’ve put them in a ditch. “We’re almost there. Take the next exit.”
    Rory was snuggled against Libby’s thigh and was almost as quiet as his master. He inched closer and let out a soft whimper when Max grumbled about the truck driver who didn’t move over so he could merge onto the interstate. Libby scratched him behind the ears and patted his side.
    Max moved to the right-hand lane.
    Shortly after leaving the interstate, Libby directed Max to a red brick house with white shutters and a rosy-cheeked little girl bundled up in a pink snowsuit throwing snowballs at the front of the house. Libby slanted Max a toothy smile. Steph’s kids were a challenge, but they were also amazing. She was sure their incredible imaginations would appeal to the writer in Max. “Let the chaos begin.”
    The corners of Max’s mouth tipped up slightly. Libby studied him for a long few seconds and put a hand on his forearm. “Are you okay?”
    Max nodded. “I should have stayed home but there was no way I was letting you drive in this stuff.”
    So that was it. He was worried about the book. He’d mentioned the deadline was fast approaching but she didn’t realize he was feeling the pinch. “Thank you for getting us here safe and sound.” Libby rested her hand on his. “After we hang out with Steph for a while, we can hole up in my apartment until tomorrow. I can fix supper while you give your muse what it wants.”
    Max let out a deep, guttural noise. “I was on a roll, thanks to you, but the last couple of chapters suck. The ending is supposed to take the reader by surprise.” He put his hands up in surrender. “I’ve got nothing to shock and awe.”
    Libby winked. “Maybe the visit with Steph and her kids will give your brain a break.” She leaned toward him so their shoulders touched. “And when we get to my apartment later you can bounce ideas off of me.” Or he’d be so tired from being pounced on by a bunch of adorable hooligans that he’d fall asleep instead of writing.
    Steph’s four-year-old daughter, Gretchen, muffled “Aunt Libby” with her nose flattened against the car window. Before Libby could get the door open, Gretchen knocked on the glass. “Why are you still in the car?”
    “You’re going to love them, Max.” She opened the door and Gretchen threw herself into Libby.
    “I missed you too, Gretch,” Libby said, hugging the little girl.
    Max watched Libby interact with the child who had tufts of blonde hair peeking from the hood of her snowsuit and a runny nose from the cold air.
    “Gretch’, this is Max.”
    “Hi, Max,” Gretchen peeked from behind Libby’s thigh.
    Max waved, but didn’t try to force his way in. Libby picked up the tiny scamp. “Let’s see what your mom’s up to.”
    Gretchen’s brown eyes widened when she spotted Rory. “She’s trying to get red soda out of the carpet. Aww, Aunt Libby, you have a doggie. What’s his name? Does he bite? Can I pet him?” She didn’t wait for answers, just snatched the dog from Libby and cuddled him like a baby.
    Max raised his