Snowed In: Sam and Lincoln

“Damn, it’s fucking freezing out here,” Lincoln Willets declared as he pulled his down jacket and scarf tight around his torso and neck. The wind had picked up, too, which no doubt accounted for a lot of the frigidness in the air.

He stood next to his brother’s Jeep, having just helped Monroe pack it for his long journey back to Los Angeles from the Mammoth Lakes area.

The predicted snow had not yet started to fall, but Lincoln knew it was only a matter of time. The overcast sky showed signs of becoming threatening.

Monroe grimaced at him from under his woolen beanie. “I hope I make it out of here before the snow starts. I hate driving in that shit.”

“If you get started now, you should be okay.”

Monroe looked toward the condo building. They’d been staying there for the weekend, courtesy of Lincoln’s friend, Ellen, who owned the place and spent the better part of the season renting it to vacationers. Ellen had let them have the place for free.

And so they’d had a sort of guys’ reunion over a long weekend, Thursday through Sunday. It was made up of guys Lincoln had gone to high school with, having graduated ten years earlier, and his little brother, Monroe, had wanted to be involved.

Two of Lincoln’s buddies, Rupert and Jameson, had left an hour ago to make their way toward San Francisco and Sacramento, respectively.

“When do you think you’ll get out of here?” Monroe asked.

“Collin’s just about ready, and Winston’s just heading off to the Yosemite area so he doesn’t have too far to go. Said he’d be out of here within the hour.” Of course, Lincoln had to stay to the last as he’d told Ellen he’d lock up the place when they were through.

“And Sam?” Monroe raised his eyebrows.

“He’s still asleep.” Lincoln chuckled. “He had a lot to drink last night. I thought I’d let him stay in a little longer. Soon as everyone else is gone, I’ll wake him.”

“You and that crush of yours.” Monroe shook his head. “You don’t stand a chance with him, Linc.”

Lincoln scowled. “It’s not about that. I’m just trying to be nice. Jesus. Get out of here, will you?” He clapped his brother on his back and pushed him toward the driver’s door of the Jeep. “And text me when you get home. In fact, if you stop along the way for food or gas or whatever, text me then, too.”

“Yes, Dad,” Monroe said as he opened the door. Just as he slid into the seat, the first flakes of snow began to fall. “Damn it.”

“Just be careful until you’re out of the area. You’ll be okay. By the time you get up the road by Bishop, you’ll be out of the snow for sure. Probably before that even.”

“Okay.”

Lincoln squeezed his brother’s arm. “Text me from Bishop. Just so, you know…”

“Worrywart.”

“Maybe a little, but they keep saying this is supposed to be one hell of a storm up here. The sooner we all get out of here, the better I’ll feel. Bye.”

He stepped onto the sidewalk, shoving his cold hands into the pockets of his jacket, wishing he’d put on gloves before coming outside. He watched as his brother made his way out of the parking lot.

These were pretty rustic condos, really. On the outside, they were covered in wood shingles. They were two stories, four condos to a building. So two on top and two on the bottom. Ellen’s place was on the top right. It had most of the amenities. A fireplace, central heat. A kitchen, living room, dining room, and a balcony with a barbecue. That, of course, was for summer visitors. Then there were two bedrooms on the first level with a rather winding metal staircase that went up to a loft that contained a few more beds, and another bedroom with two mattresses laid out on the floor. No actual bed, just the mattresses. In that bedroom, Ellen also stored tools and old cans of paint as they were forever redoing the place.

Lincoln made his way up the stairs and opened the condo door, coming face to face with Collin in the front hallway.

“Hey. Your brother get off all right?”

“Sure did. Snow’s started, though, so you’d better get going yourself.”

Collin nodded. “I’ve seen worse snow then this, trust me. Right after high school, I lived in Buffalo for about five years.” He grinned. “Now thatwas snow. Listen, I tried to wake Sam, but he was having none of it.”

Lincoln chuckled. “I’ll take care of it. Drive safe and say ‘hello’ to Patsy for me.”

Patsy was Collin’s wife, and Lincoln had been a groomsman at their wedding three years earlier.