Snowstorm

Snowstorm
Part Eight

"I'm going outside for a bit," I said, after finishing the tea, rinsing out the cup and placing it on the drain board. Alan glanced at me from his place on the sofa, a folded magazine in his hand.

"There's an extra coat in the hall closet," he informed me, and I found it easily enough. I also found a pair of snow boots that looked like they've been here since the 1970's and sat down on the floor to pull them on, feeling three years old.

As I pulled on the coat, it was rather large and the sleeves came down past my wrists, my mind was racing. I needed time alone to clear my head. "Beth?" Alan's voice stopped me near the front door. I thought he was going to say something more, but he merely held my eyes for a moment before breaking the contact and looking back down at his reading material.

I sighed and found the doorknob. It was warm from the fire he kept going within the hearth and turned it. It clicked open easily enough and I pulled the door ajar. As soon as I stepped outside, the wind caught me full-force and knocked the breath out of me.
I closed the door behind me and leaned heavily against it. Bringing the collar of the coat upwards to shield my face, I wished for a hat to cover my ears. I scanned the area off the front stoop and gasped at the white sparkling beauty of the world around me.

I made my way around the cabin, not wishing to go far, my feet crunching into the snow and leaving the borrowed pajamas I wore damp to the knees. The wind stung my face and numbed my ears. I heard the crunch of a branch behind me and turned to see Alan standing there, sans a coat, shivering slightly as the wind played with his hair.

"It's freezing out here, Beth," he said, rubbing his arms, and glancing from me to the back door he'd left standing open, "How long are you planning on staying out?"

I regarded him from the tree I'd been leaning against, and shrugged, "Not long... Go back inside. You forgot your jacket..."

"I didn't forget it, Beth," he said, and approached me. I had turned away from him to gaze outwards, down a step embankment and towards the snow-topped mountains beyond. It was all so awe-inspiring. I was feeling a mixture of wonder, regret and hatred at the unfairness of the world that would allow such...prettiness to exist and yet would take loved ones away so they would never be able to...

I didn't finish the thought as I felt his arms around me from behind and pulling me from the cold, comfort of the pine. "I didn't forget it, Beth," he said, as he pulled my back against his chest and breathed against my ear, "You're wearing it."

"You said it was an extra one..." I said, my voice a note too low for accusations.

"Would you have worn it if I'd said it was the only coat in the house?" he asked and I thought for a moment, finally shaking my head; "No, I guess not. I wouldn't want you to freeze..." I realized how stupid my words sounded, aloud and grew silent. I was thinking of everything I would have to face in the coming weeks, months, and years ahead.

God, I didn't want to. I didn't want to have to deal with anything. Anything at all... I don't know how long we stood there, wrapped within our own thoughts, so close and yet so far away. He broke the quiet; "Are you all right, Beth?"

I didn't know if I was or not. I felt all right. As all right as I could be, really, all things considered. I could be raving and screaming, couldn't I? And not as calm as I was. I had a feeling that there would be time for raving and screaming later, at the moment, though, an odd bit of stillness had settled upon me. The only thing I knew for sure was that....

"I don't know..." I said, reaching up to cover his hands with my own, "I'm scared, I guess..."

He turned me around and I looked up into his wind-bitten face, "It's all right to be scared, Beth..." he said, speaking slowly, "If you said you weren't, I'd have called you a liar..."

Without waiting for my response, he took my arm and led me back towards the cabin, "It's so bloody cold out here... we're going back inside..." I had to agree with that as we crossed the last few feet and entered the house. He closed the door behind us and we stomped off the snow from our boots in the small foyer.

I slipped a bit on the slick wetness of the floor and he caught me as I fell against him. That, in turn, caused him to slip and we ended up in a heap upon the floor with his back against the wall and me sprawled out upon his lap.

"Oops..." I tried, laughing, and we helped each other to our feet. Before our laughter died, I couldn't help feeling a tinge of guilt that I could still laugh and enjoy a moment when my sister and her husband hadn't even been dead for over a week. I felt like I was betraying them somehow.

"It's all right to still enjoy things, Beth," he said to me as my laughter died a quick death between us, "I don't think that accident meant that you had to die as well..."

Instead of answering, I changed the subject, "What do you have to eat besides instant noodles?" I'd removed the oversized socks, as they were now a wet lump on the foyer floor and headed back towards the kitchen, "Never mind! I'll look around..."

I had to give him credit for knowing when to not push a subject as he rejoined me a few moments later. "You should take off those pants..." he said, from behind me and I raised a brow at his suggestion. A faint flush crossed his features, blending well with the cold-nipped crimson of his cheeks and ears.

"It's not like that!" he exclaimed, "They're wet from the snow... I thought you could lay them down by the fireplace and they'd dry there...Christ, Beth... You have a dirty mind..."

"Do I?" I asked, bending down to peer into one of the cupboards. I'd found a few cans of green beans and a packet of wrapped hamburger behind an empty carton of milk in the fridge.
"You're the one who thought it, not me..." I closed the cupboard, rose and began to search the others, "Do you have any potatoes...?" I asked, and I could he was caught off guard by my sudden change in topic. I continued pulling open doors and moving things around.

"There," he said, pointing to a door I'd missed, and added, "You seem to have it under control here... I'll take my leave and go finish my reading..." I was silently thankful that he didn't seem to mind me taking over his kitchen and soon put the thought of my head as I went about the task of fixing something a bit more filling than a few cups of instant ramen.

"Call me when you need the stove lit," he finished before leaving me alone. Not really alone, I corrected myself, I could see him from where I stood in the kitchen, picking up the magazine and settling back down upon the sofa. In the same spot he'd recently vacated.

As it turned out, the hamburger was bad and I had to throw it out. I was left with vegetables and a few handfuls of potatoes. After a moment, I decided to fry them using bit of lard beneath the sink and boiled the green beans. It wasn't much, but at least it would fill us up.

I wondered that he hadn't gone shopping to stock the place before deciding to vacation here. A moment later I had my answer. He probably had and had only shopped for himself and had eaten most of the supplies before the storm had hit. And, I thought, slicing the potatoes, before I showed up.
~*~*~


"Do you think you should phone your family now?" Alan asked, pausing in between bites of fried potato and green beans. He was seated upon the sofa, our plates on the coffee table. I was on the floor across from him, my own fork held up as I regarded his words. I knew the phones were working; he'd gotten a few more calls from people I didn't know as I'd been working in the kitchen.

"As I’ve mentioned; they'll be worried about you, I think..." I nodded, swallowing another bite of potatoes and said; "Yeah, I know... I just..." I didn't really want to speak to them, my parents, just then. I knew how upset they'd be and I didn't want to face that. Not right away. But, I knew it would be worse to put it off. Much worse.

Sighing, I put down my fork, it clattered against the plate, and headed for the telephone. Listening to the dial tone for a few moments, I steeled myself and pressed the numbers I knew by heart.

I know how it sounds to most people, being my age and still living with my parents. I normally didn't care what other people thought. My home was my home, regardless of how old I became. My father answered on the third ring. His voice was strained, far away and I had the feeling he'd been shouting at one point.

"D-Daddy?" I asked, my own voice a croak of a sound, "It's me..."

"Bethie?" He used the nickname he'd given me as a child, "Bethie, is it really you? Where are you? Are you....?"

Before I could reply, I heard muffled noises and suddenly my mother was on the line, crying loudly into my ear, her voice high-pitched and shaky, "Beth!? Oh, my god! Beth! Where in heaven's name are you!? Do you know how worried your father and I have been...We...we...thought you were....Oh, my god...Beth...."

I couldn't speak, other than to ensure her that I wasn't hurt and I was all right, because she was sobbing and screaming in my ear at the same time.

I guess I couldn't blame her for being worried, all things considered. I felt a stab of guilt for not calling sooner. For not calling as soon as I knew the phone was working. My mother finally relinquished the phone to my father once more.

"Bethie?" My father asked, as if afraid I'd have hung up, "Where are you? Are you all right?" I repeated that I was fine, and that I was somewhere safe. "The roads are still bad, Daddy," I said, when he mentioned coming up to fetch me himself, "I'll be all right to wait... you need to stay with Mom..." I could hear her crying in the background, "She needs you, Daddy..." Before I replaced the phone on the hook, I added, "I love you... Tell Mom... I'll be home soon... "

My father didn't answer. He wasn't the type to repeat endearments. It may have been my imagination, in fact, now, in retrospect, I am sure it was, but I thought I caught a glimpse of something other than worry and fear in my father's silence. My mind flashed on the car accident once more, and once more I saw those un-used seatbelts. I turned from the phone and swiped at the tears standing in my eyes. I knew I'd been putting off contacting them because I knew it would bring back everything that had happened and make it all the more real. The sound of my parents' worried voices over the phone had brought it all home tenfold.

"Are you all right?" Alan asked and I turned to find him standing behind me, concern etched across his open, handsome, features, "Beth?"

"He blames me," I said, without thinking, "I could tell... He blames me for what happened...."

"You know that's not true," he said, without asking who 'he' I was talking about, "Beth...?"

"I know my own father!" I cried, disgusted at myself for yelling at this man who'd only shown me kindness, "Katie was the special one! The one everyone loved..." God, how could I be saying these things about my own sister?! I hated myself more and more, but could not stop the flow of words from escaping, "She was his 'Princess'... She was... she was.... so fucking special!" I collapsed into sobs and sunk to the floor, hiding my face in my hands.

After a moment, I looked up, sucked back the snot and rubbed my eyes. "He hasn't called me 'Bethie' since I was three years old... " I don't know that he understood what I was saying, it sounded like so much asinine rambling at that point, but somewhere between my babbling and crying, I ended up on his lap on the floor, his arms about me, as he rocked me gently and smoothed my hair with one hand.

When all my tears had dried, once more, I sat still, hiccupping and trembling, my head upon his shoulder, for the longest moment. He hadn't stopped rocking and stroking. I felt tired. Crying hard always makes me feel like sleeping. My limbs felt heavy but I was loath to let go of him. I clung to him as though to let go would be my downfall. I knew I'd have to let go sooner or later, though. I also knew that our time together would have to come to an end.

As soon as the roads were open, I knew, our brief engagement would be at an end. Such a short time, I thought, such a short time to get to know someone... to become as close as we had become. So close and yet...still so far away. Maybe that's all human beings really were to each other, I mused, as I felt his breath against my cheek; no matter how close one becomes, we're always going to be far away.