Blame It On The Mistletoe (2013) - Plot & Excerpts
He’d probably worked all night. I left him to sleep, packed on a few layers, and went out on my own. But the salt trucks hadn’t been by yet, and the snow was still dense on the sidewalks and roads. I gave it up as a bad deal. Thursday’s are heavy class days for me, and I worked at the Grain Basket from eleven to one, making sandwiches and smoothies. I did that shift Monday through Friday, in rain or shine, in sickness or in health. It made the day go by fast, which was good, because I was too busy to think about stuff I didn’t want to think about—like a certain thing that had happened in the snow. I got home at four thirty, and Fielding was studying at the kitchen table. “I’m dying for a run,” I told him. “Wanna come along?” “God, yes. Please.” He dropped his pen, stood, and stretched. Our favorite route was a three mile loop that took us through the Cornell Plantations arboretum with its gardens, bogs, and woodlands.
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