Sixteen
The following day was nothing like the one that preceded it. Rather than dance around each other and spend most of the day naked, they bundled up and headed outside.
The snow was barely falling now, and Miriam had spotted a snowplow making slow progress through one of the neighborhoods at the base of the hill. They were still under several feet of snow, and the temperature remained stubbornly frigid, but at least the snow had stopped. People were starting to emerge from their homes, and from the vantage point of the upstairs library this morning she’d spotted a few brightly colored parkas dotting the whitewashed landscape.
“Ready?” Chase positioned the round plastic disc on a hill at the side of the house and held it steady for her to climb on.
“You first,” she said, tipping her chin.
“No, thanks.” He twisted the toboggan deeper into the snow.
“Chicken.”
“Sticks and stones, Mimi. Get your very fine rear on this sled.”
“It’s a toboggan.”
“Stop delaying.” His dark hair ruffled in the breeze, his ears bright red. He’d torn his hat off a few minutes ago when he’d gone searching for the toboggan, or sled as he called it, complaining he was hot. Only Chase Ferguson could be hot in fifteen-degree weather.
“After shoveling, you deserve to have some fun. Maybe we should go down together.”
His eyes were uncooperative slits, but he surprisingly agreed. “Okay, fine. Take hold of this while I put my hat back on.”
She squealed her way to the bottom of the hill, nestled against his front while he sat behind her. When they came to a landing at a cluster of trees she was glad they hadn’t mowed into, she’d collected a pile of snow between her legs.
“Again?” Warm lips touched her cheek. “Or do you want to go inside and warm up?”
“Again!” She couldn’t help herself. She hadn’t done this in years. This was too fun not to continue.
They went again, and again, until her legs were jelly from climbing the hill and Chase had flat out given up. He lied and said he was making snow angels, but she could tell he was taking a beat to catch his breath. After their final climb up the hill, he leaned the toboggan against the garage and they shut out the cold, peeling off their snow-packed outfits before dashing inside to start a fire.
Once they were dressed in comfy clothes, fire lit and mugs of soup for both of them, Miriam’s nose finally began to thaw.
“Told you I’d make a mountain man out of you yet.”
“You’re very persuasive.” Chase finished his mug of soup and set it aside, scrubbing his hands down his legs and then holding his palms in front of the fire. “I miss Texas. Shoveling is for the birds.”
“I’m sure if you lived here you’d be able to find someone to shovel for you.” When he looked over at her, his brow a contemplative mar, she said, “I mean if you visit here again. In the winter. It doesn’t always snow this much.”
She pressed her lips together to stop the spillway of words.
“Speaking of, I need to find someone to do just that,” he said. “The city will take care of the street, but this long driveway is too much work for one shovel.”
“I have snow-removal guys on speed dial for my job. I can call one later on today.”
“Or tomorrow.” He locked his eyes on hers. “No sense in beating the street plow.”
“Right.”
They fell silent, listening to the fire snap and pop. Her time here was ending. She’d only been here a few days, but it felt longer. Like that summer past had bled into a fall she’d forgotten and a winter that lingered.
The same niggling, disturbing sensation of no time having passed occurred while she and Chase loaded the dishwasher. He rinsed her mug and took the spoon from her hand while she’d dropped in the detergent pod. He shut the device and pressed Start, and just like that, they’d perfected the dance in the kitchen without a word.
Like a couple who knew each other.
Like a couple who hadn’t been apart for ten years.
* * *