It was starting to snow when we drove into town.
Basking had not changed.
The little town was one of the prettiest in California’s Gold Country. Nestled at the base of the snowy Sierra Foothills scenery, the shady streets were lined with charming boutiques, cozy cafes, and quaint Victorian homes. All of it made even prettier by lavish Christmas decorations. In fact, it kind of looked like Santa’s Village. I mean the real Santa’s Village, if Santa lived in a village and not at the North Pole.
You know what I mean.
“It’s Brigadoon,” I told Jake as we parked in front of a cute little pink house with a wishing well and a white picket fence.
“What?” He gave me a funny look.
“Basking. The town. I don’t think it’s changed at all.”
“Right.”
I mused, “The property values have tripled. That’s for sure.”
Jake didn’t answer.
A couple of snowflakes hit the windshield—and did not dissolve.
The plan was breakfast, grocery shopping, and then finding a Christmas tree. But even a decent-sized house plant would do, if it started to snow for real.
I shrugged into my coat, glanced at Jake, who hadn’t moved a muscle since we parked.
“Coming?”
He threw a quick, harassed look out the window and then stared at me. He swallowed. In fact, it was kind of a gulp.
I frowned. All at once he seemed a little pale, even glassy-eyed. Kind of how he looked when he had to climb on the roof. Every Superman has his kryptonite, and Jake’s was heights.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Fine.” But he kept staring at me in that weird hostage-photo way.
“You sure?”
He said curtly, “Look where we’re parked.”
I looked in my side mirror. Peered down at the curb. “I think you’re okay. Nobody’s going to be handing out tickets on Christmas E—”
He said in a strangled voice, “Adrien.”
Now I was truly alarmed. “What’s the matter with you?” Clearly, he was having some kind of postcoital conniption.
Jake nodded meaningfully at the pink house. I followed his gaze, expecting to see, at the very least, a man with a gun. But no. A tidy square of lawn, an abundance of pink roses, small, brick wishing well, carved-wood sign—
Stop.
Go back.
A white carved-wood sign which read: PINK ROSE WEDDING CHAPEL, and in smaller print: SAME DAY WEDDINGS. If you are in love, you are welcome here!
“Uhhhhh…” I said.
Jake’s gaze locked onto mine. “What do you think?”
I did a doubletake. “You mean here? Now?”
Jake nodded. “It says they’re open.”
I turned once more to the sign to verify.
HOURS: 9:00 AM – 5:00 PM. WALK-INS WELCOME!
It was so quiet in the car, I could hear his wristwatch ticking.
