Before The Snow Falls | Holiday Novella

The Grahams

Ithaca, New York

2019

I stared open-mouthed at Hale as he put the letter down.

"What?" he asked in response to my look. "Did I spill some coffee?" He looked down at the Cornell logo, and I tried not to laugh at the instant double chin that formed as he looked for evidence of coffee stains on his favorite sweatshirt.

"No," I said, laughing. "That isn't it. Did you hear what you read?"

"Which part?" Hale replied slowly. "The part where Felix completely name drops his hotel in hopes that she'll visit? Or the part where he makes up reasons why he traveled across the Atlantic to see her?"

"Huh," I muttered, his words distracting me from what I was going to say before. "You really think so? After all, you just finished telling me how it would have taken weeks to cross the Atlantic. And you didn't think it was very plausible that Nora could return to England for him."

Hale shrugged. "Felix is a man."

I made an indignant sound, and he threw up his hands in defense before explaining. "Look," Hale said, leaning forward. "Felix would have had a lot more freedom to take a trip like that. Not to mention the money. It would be a lot more challenging for a 19th-century woman to arrange spontaneous travel from New York to England. It isn't merely the time it would take for her to get there."

"I suppose that makes sense," I allowed.

"Plus," Hale continued, shrugging, "it's pretty obvious that he's obsessed with her."

I contemplated what Felix had written for a second before saying, "He definitely likes her."

Hale gave a little snort and mumbled, "Likes?"

Suddenly remembering what I was going to say before, I reached out and snatched the letter from his hand. I searched the slanted text for the sentence I was looking for. "Ah, here it is!" I exclaimed and smiled.

"What?" Hale asked, curious. His hand floated upward in his eagerness—as if to grab the parchment from me. But then he seemed to realize what he was doing and dropped it in his lap.

"And one Felix Graham is here to assist," I read and then passed it to him because I knew he wanted to see it.

Hale's brows furrowed, and he just looked at me like I was crazy. But I saw the moment where it clicked in his head, his eyes flying open.

"Felix Graham!" he exclaimed.

"Finally!" I said, laughing. "I'm surprised you didn't catch it right away. His last name is Graham!"

Hale pointed at me playfully, almost as if he were shooting finger guns. "And your last name is Graham." Then he cleared his throat and leaned further across the cushions, an intent expression on his face. "Okay, but seriously. Could Felix be related to you? It would explain why your parents had the letters, of course. I don't know why I didn't think of that before. Have you ever looked at your lineage before? Are you British, Lana?"

The words flew from his lips as if his mouth had just jumped on a treadmill, and the little flecks of excitement in his eyes made me smile. "I'm not sure," I admitted.

Hale groaned dramatically. "Well, I'm freaking out a little bit here and need some answers." He threw each of his hands on the side of his face, effectively squishing it together between them.

"Take a deep breath, Hale," I said, grinning and taking his hands down from his face, placing them gently in his lap. "I've never looked at my genealogy, but I know I am some mix of European. History is your thing."