[chapter six]
Disclaimer: If you've heard of them, I don't own them. Everything else is mine, so no stealing, pretty please. ;-)
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~Jeff's POV~
"Hello?"
I'm trying really hard to concentrate on being polite on the phone, and not on killing Madelyn with my bare hands.
Man, she drives me crazy.
"Hi Jeff. It's Joan." I can hear her grandmotherly voice through the phone, and relax slightly, despite the throbbing in my knee.
"Hi Joan. Are you guys okay?" I ask, hoping they were safe in town and not marooned on the side of the road somewhere.
"We're fine, Jeff. I just wanted to let you know Frank and I are going to stay in town tonight - the weather is showing no signs of letting up and we don't want to risk it. There is a lot of snow falling. Will you and the nice journalist lady be alright?"
Nice journalist lady, my ass.
"Sure, we'll be fine, but the power just went out and hasn't come back on yet. Can you tell me where to find some candles or something?" I ask.
"Actually, on your bedside table there is a candle and matches should be in the top drawer. Help yourself to any food, and we'll call in the morning to let you know our plans." Joan says. "I'm so sorry about all this."
"Well, it certainly isn't your fault. We'll be fine here. Thanks for calling to let me know, otherwise I would have worried."
"You are such a sweet boy, Jeff." Joan says and I shake my head. She really is the nicest lady. "Take care, and we'll be in touch."
We say our goodbyes and I sigh deeply as I replace the phone. "They are staying in town. We're stuck here. She said to help ourselves to whatever."
"Did she say anything about the power?" Madelyn asks, her voice serious and calm. No more freaking out. At least for a minute or two.
"Nothing. But there is a candle on the table and matches in the drawer." I say, feeling my way across the room and digging around by feel for matches. My hand closes around a small box and I fumble a few times before finally striking a match. It flares and I can see a large candle sitting on the table. Lighting it, I blink several times, trying to adjust to the new light source.
"That's better." Madelyn says, and I pick up the candle, catching her in its dim light. "Hmm." She murmurs.
"What?" I ask defensively.
"Nothing."
"What?!"
"You look nice in candlelight, that's all. Jesus. No more complaints for Mr. Egomaniacal."
Oh.
Wasn't expecting that.
"I'm starving. Think we can find something to eat downstairs?" Madelyn asks, her voice hard, professional.
I sigh inwardly and nod in the darkness. "Probably. Let's go find out."
As we head out the door, I wince as I make an observation of my own.
Madelyn looks damn good in candlelight herself.
This is gonna be a long night.