The Jeep stopped under a brightly-lit canopy, engine humming behind the blast of the heater.
"Rock paper scissors for it?" Kira had her hands up, right fist sitting on an open left palm.
"Sure," said Alexandra. "Winner chooses whether to get out and pump or stay inside but pay?"
"Oooh, you like tough choices," said Kira. She tucked an errant strand of blonde hair behind her ear and smiled. "Fine. On three?"
"Yes. One...two..." Alexandra stared at her girlfriend, trying to figure out what Kira's rock-paper-scissors go-to move would be.
Rock
, she thought.
Direct, powerful, no-nonsense.
Then her mind flipped:
No, too obvious. She'd go paper, just because I'd think she'd go rock. Or...
"Um, three?"
Alexandra instinctively threw down scissors. It was the same thing Kira had tried.
"One, two, three!" Kira said again.
Again Kira threw scissors, but Alexandra looked down to see her palm flat.
Ugh
, she thought, reaching for her down jacket and thick woolen hat.
Pumping gas in the middle of fucking Wisconsin in the middle of a fucking snowstorm in fucking February.
She pulled the hat over her side-combed pixie and took a deep breath.
"Stop," said Kira. "Just sit right there."
Alexandra dug around her feet for her purse, which had disappeared into the darkness of the footwell.
"No, stop," the driver said again. "I won. And I choose that I'll pump the gas and that I'll pay. It's Valentine's Day this weekend and it's about three degrees out there and I love you and just sit your gorgeous ass down in that seat and I'll handle this."
"Thank you." Alexandra's voice was barely audible over the swishing of her partner's coat.
She stared out at the yellow glow of nighttime gas station lights and the swirling snow beyond. It had been a gray-sky day in a gray-sky week in the Midwest's gray-sky month, but at least it had ended in a Friday night. And that at least had the prospect of several days without crosstown Chicago commutes or brain-melting applications of economic theory.
It also had the prospect of a romantic weekend with Kira far from the big-city noise. Alexandra's girlfriend had chosen a lakeside resort in Wisconsin that probably looked better in summer but would be markedly less crowded now.
And besides
, Alexandra thought
, Wisconsin isn't a sunshine destination at any time of the year. But a massage and some whirlpool time, with a side of wine? Yes, please.
So she sat in the right side front seat of Kira's Wrangler while her girlfriend pumped gas. There hadn't been a ton of planning: just a nice spa weekend with a king-size bed, lingerie, and no distractions.
After two too-long minutes, Kira slid back into the driver's seat, blowing on her hands.
"Forget your gloves?"
"No," said Kira. "Took one off to run my card. Then forgot to put that one back on. I'm an idiot, apparently. Fuck me, it's cold."
"Only half an idiot, right? I mean, one glove is better than none?"
"So's one brain cell, but that didn't help me either."
"Fine, dummy," said Alexandra. "Go around the outside and take my seat. I'll drive, as long as I don't have to get out."
"Look at you, Alex. Kicking me out of the driver's seat of my own car." Kira stuck out her tongue just before opening the door to another Arctic blast.
"I had to contribute something, right?" Alexandra had shifted to the left side and started the engine. "You paid for the weekend, you paid for the gas, and apparently you lost an arm doing it?"
"Shut up. Just turn the heater on. Like, all the way."
Alexandra did so and pulled back onto the dark highway. It was still an hour to their destination according to Google Maps, and she was not looking forward to sixty minutes of darkness and blowing snow.
For a while, only the sound of the blasting heater broke the silence.
"Remember that time coming back from the airport that truck blew a tire in front of us?"
"Yes," said Kira. "I do tend to remember near-death experiences." She paused. "Also, that was like a month or so ago, and I'm not quite that dumb."
"You're the one talking about having one brain cell. And with that platinum hair, you look the part-"
"You know what Dolly Parton said about dumb blonde jokes, Alex?"
"Wait, I was just-"
"She said they didn't bother her."
"Okay..."
"Dumb blonde jokes don't bother me, Alex, because like Dolly I know I'm not dumb. Also like Dolly, I know I'm not blonde."
Alexandra shook her head. "Sometimes I'm still not sure whether you're joking or making a serious point."
A small, ancient sedan passed them in the left lane, going too fast for even normal conditions.
"He must have..." Kira cut herself off. "Nah, it feels like tempting fate to make some joke about single-car accidents on snowy highways resulting in that car being totaled and thereby increasing in value."
"Well, fate tempted, seeing as you just said the entire joke out loud, my dear blondie."
"No, the version in my head was much worse. It had -"
"Nope, don't wanna hear it. Besides, the Dolly quote doesn't work for you. Dyeing your hair from blonde to blonder doesn't mean you're not a blonde."
"Now who's got the single brain cell, Miss Henderson? That's exactly what I was telling you."
"Huh?"
"Like Dolly Parton, I am not naturally blonde."
Alexandra's head spun for a moment, just at the same moment that a car on the opposite side of the highway fishtailed and slammed into the guardrail.
"
Jesus
! Did you see that?" She realized she was shouting only when Kira covered her ears in mock irritation.
"I did. News flash, conditions suck. I mean, I assume that's why you're doing fifteen under the speed limit?"
Alexandra checked the speedometer. She was indeed fifteen under.
"Fine. I'll stop worrying about that guy who just brained himself on the southbound there and go back to talking about hair dye."
"Better than focusing your mind on it and becoming the next wreck."
Alexandra breathed deeply. She felt sick for a moment and inhaled large gulps of warm air, trying to make the nausea subside.
"Need to pull over?" Kira's voice had lost the sarcasm.