“Right,” he replied.
“They don’t have duchesses in America,” I educated him.
“Well, that’s the truth.”
Why was I explaining about aristocracy? I returned to target.
“Let go!” I shouted again.
He completely ignored me shouting and looked into the boot.
Then he asked what I thought was insanely, “Groceries?”
“Yes,” I snapped, “I bought them in Denver.”
He looked at me and grinned again and again I thought it was insanely before he muttered, “Rookie mistake.”
“Would you let go so I can close the boot and be on my way?”
“Boot?”
“Trunk!”
“English.”
I think at that point I might have growled but being as I was alarmed at seeing only red, I didn’t really take note.
“Mr…” I hesitated then said, “whoever-you-are –”
“Max.”
“Mr. Max –”
“No, just Max.”
I leaned toward him and snapped, “Whatever,” then demanded, “Let go of the car.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes,” I bit out. “Seriously. Let. Go. Of. The. Car.”
He let go of the car and said, “Suit yourself.”
“It would suit me if I could travel back in time and not click ‘book now’ on that stupid webpage,” I muttered as I slammed the boot and stomped to the driver’s side door. “Idyllic A-Frame in the Colorado Mountains, not even bloody close. More like Your Worst Snowstorm Nightmare in the Colorado Mountains.”
I was in the car and had slammed the door but I was pretty certain before I did it I heard him chuckling.
Even angry, I wasn’t stupid and I carefully reversed out of his drive, probably looking like a granny driver and I didn’t care. I wanted out of his sight, away from the glorious yet denied A-Frame and in closer proximity to a bed which I could actually sleep in and I didn’t want that bed to be in a hospital.
I turned out of his drive and drove a lot faster (but still not very fast) and I kept driving and I didn’t once look into my mirrors to see the lost A-Frame.
Adrenalin was still rushing through my system and I was still angry as I think I’d ever been when I was what I figured was close to the main road but I couldn’t be sure and I hit a patch of snow shrouded ice, lost control of the rental and slid into a ditch.
When my heart stopped tripping over itself and the lump in my throat stopped threatening to kill me, I looked at the snow in front of my car and mumbled, “Beautiful.” Then I went on to mumble, “Brilliant.”
Then I burst out crying.
* * * * *