had emailed a copy of the itinerary and emergency numbers the same way he had last spring when he and Mom had spent a weekend at a B&B in Tofino. Jeremy tried to tell himself it was proof that nothing had changed, not really.
Max’s stepmother, a small woman in her mid-forties or so with a blond ponytail and a bright smile, said in a perky voice, “You must be Jeremy! I’m Valerie.” She walked toward him.
Jeremy extended his hand, but Valerie opened her arms and gave him a hug. For a moment, Jeremy stood frozen before hugging her back. She actually smelled like apple pie, or maybe it was maple syrup? It was incredibly wholesome, whatever it was, and he hugged her gratefully.
She stepped back, adjusting her red woolen toque, matching mittens on her hands. “Sorry, I’m a hugger. We don’t stand on ceremony in the Nadeau-Pimenta household. This is John.”
Max’s father stuck out his gloved hand, pumping Jeremy’s enthusiastically. He looked a bit older than his wife—in his early fifties, Jeremy guessed. He was stocky and a few inches shorter than Max, his hairline receding and smile big and gleaming white. “Greetings, young man! Merry Christmas and happy Hanukkah and joyous Festivus.”
“You forgot Kwanza,” Meg noted.
“Oh, yes! And happy Kwanza. We never met a holiday we didn’t like.”
Meg asked Jeremy, “Did you know Canada has a national tartan day? It’s in April. He legit made us wear plaid that day every year.”
“And you loved it,” John said. As Meg and Max opened their mouths in unison to likely protest, he cut them off and said, “Let’s get moving. Only fifteen minutes for the parking.”
They hurried down the street, which ended a block away at a lake. Jeremy shuddered in the icy blast. “It’s so much colder here!”
They all laughed. Meg said, “Oh yeah, Barrie and Pinevale might only be an hour or two north of Toronto, but it’s a whole different world up here.”
“Welcome to the snow belt!” Valerie chirped.
Jeremy volunteered to sit in the middle in the SUV, and he buckled his seatbelt securely, keeping his arms folded so he didn’t take up too much room. His right foot was against Max’s left, and he angled his knees inward so he was touching as little of Max as possible. Because an erection wouldn’t make a great first impression on the Nadeau-Pimenta household.
As Valerie drove them back up to the 400, which had finally cleared, she asked Max about Honey and the guys, and they chatted about his friends’ plans for the holidays. Jeremy realized after a few minutes that Meg was eyeing him. He smiled hesitantly.
She smiled back, but her gaze was assessing. “You comfy?”
“Uh-huh!”
“You seem a little tense.”
“No, I’m good. Just don’t want to squish you.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m not very breakable, I assure you.”
Valerie asked, “Okay? Is it too cold? Too hot?”
“Or just right?” John added.
“Just right,” Max and Meg chorused, like it was an old joke or something.
Jeremy stayed quiet as the family caught up with each other. They turned off toward Pinevale, and there was definitely way more snow than the slushy remnants in the city. Here, it was banked up along the sides of the road where plows had rumbled through.
“And…any other news?” John asked.
A strange silence filled the SUV. The radio was down low, and a faint, tinny carol played. Jeremy thought it was “Deck the Halls.” Yes, there was the “Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la.” A second before Max spoke, Jeremy realized what John had been asking.
“Not yet.” Max was tense beside Jeremy. “There’s some processing delay. They sent an email saying they might not post the results until after Christmas.”
Valerie tutted. “Oh, that’s frustrating, sweetheart.”
“But we know you aced it,” John said.
“We know you did your best,” Valerie added, which made Jeremy like her even more.
“Of course!” John agreed.
Max shrugged, a jerky motion. “I guess we’ll see.”
Meg rolled her eyes. “As if you don’t crush every exam you’ve ever taken.”
“Shut up,” Max muttered.
Should Jeremy pat his arm? Leg? What would a normal person who didn’t want to hump him do? He wasn’t sure, so he kept his hands in his lap. He also couldn’t help but wonder if there really was a delay on the results. There was something about the way Max usually tried to change the subject when law school came up. Probably just nerves.
Valerie slowed and turned into a laneway with a big, red wooden sign at the entrance. In black script, it read: Nadeau Family Farms. The lane