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Image Credit: Cute Couple Kissing ~Sephrena.
 

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Most of the time, I don’t need my alarm clock to go off in the morning to rouse me, and this morning was no exception. It was a good thing too. I rolled over on my side in the darkness and sought confirmation of what my internal clock was telling me, only to be confronted by the flashing of the incorrect time. The power had flickered again and that wasn’t a good omen, for the worst of the storm was yet to come if one put stock in the forecast scenario.

Reluctantly abandoning the cocoon of warmth that my floral comforter had to offer, I slowly waded into the chilly air of my small room and dangled my hairless legs from the edge of the bed. Then, I stood up and smoothed out my pink satin nightie.

Rubbing my equally soft and smooth arms, I walked over to the window and parted the curtains. My teeth started to chatter a little as I slowly raised up the window a few inches to see if the dire forecast was indeed playing itself out.

There was still a hissing sound outside, but at least it no longer sounded like two television sets had been left on after the station they were tuned to had gone off air like in olden days. No, the hissing was no longer nearly as intense. And that worried me as I gazed at the silhouette of the tree line behind my house that now served as a poor noise buffer between me and the shopping center to the west.

Everything was glazed over. It was beautiful, but it had me shaking my head as well. The last time I had seen a scene like this, it was over fourteen years ago. Unfortunately, it seemed the forecasters were spot on about the timing. The transition had begun in the wee hours of the morning, and it was only a matter of time before it was just freezing rain. This was certainly going to be a Valentine’s Day to remember. I closed the window, and there was chilly silence once more.

“Should have worn my flannel pajamas,” I muttered as I searched for my robe.

I noticed that my cat had moved from the foot of the bed to the warm depression I had left in the sheets. I gave her a quick scritch before I put on my white robe and made my way out into the hall toward the bathroom. The bright vanity lights of the bathroom stung my eyes and my pride a little. I hated this part of my morning routine. I begrudged the unforgiving fluorescent lights for pointing out every perceived flaw of the otherwise thin and attractive red head staring back at me, especially on the most romantic day of the year when all of my girlish longings, denied for so long, cried out for fulfillment.

After washing my face, I walked into the living to the sight of my beagle, Zoe, trotting on over with her tail wagging the whole way to greet mommy. I gave her a quick pet before walking onto the hard tile of the kitchen to put the kettle on. While I waited for the water to boil, I collapsed into a chair in the corner by the window. Now, the only hissing was coming from the kettle. Outside, there was just the soothing sound of softly falling rain. It kept calling for me to climb back into bed and hibernate for the rest of the day until the storm passed, but I had to be ready to come into work just in case.

I put my tea to steep and turned on the Weather Channel. Before I had a chance to check the local on the 8s, my cell phone vibrated on the glass top of the coffee table like it was issuing a warning. I didn’t even need to check the number. I was pretty sure it was an automated alert from the University. And it was. Now it was official. The University-as indeed the entire region was about to be-was shut down.

I muted the television and grabbed my tea. After sitting back down, I held up my mug as if to offer a toast to an imagined significant other.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” I said quietly while staring blankly through the sliding glass door next to the kitchen at the glistening trees whose branches were starting to sag a little too much for comfort. Then I looked down. “For what it’s worth,” I added.

I was actually a little disappointed not going into work, but the roads were already starting to ice up, and the overpasses were already skating rinks. Today of all days, I would have welcomed the distraction of work. I wasn’t expecting my Valentine’s Day to begin until evening. At the moment, I wasn’t sure what was worse, braving the treacherous roads, or being left alone with my thoughts.

I sighed as I perused the DVDs next to my phone, an assortment of some I owned as well as some from my Netflix queue, and I hoped I’d make it through at least a couple romantic comedies before the power went out. I would need all of the vicarious living I could get to sustain me through this long day. And thank goodness I had purchased a lot of alcohol. I smiled as I looked over at all of the unopened bottles of wine on the countertop.

But before I could enjoy my day off, I had to get in the right mood. After I let Zoe out, I put on my sexiest black lingerie under my little black dress and finished off my ensemble with some pantyhose and high heels. Then, I applied my makeup until I crossed the threshold from attractive to gorgeous. At least that’s the way it seemed to me in the soft gloomy light of my bedroom.

I strutted in front of the full length mirror in my bedroom and struck a few sexy poses until I managed a smile.

I sashayed back into the living room. Now I know what I’m about to tell you next is pretty pathetic, but I really, really, needed the boost all the same. I grabbed the dozen roses I had purchased from the grocery store the previous day and put them in a green vase. I pretended they were from an attractive coworker that I had a crush on. I even wrote a card to myself as if he’d sent them, but I’ll spare you the mushy details and simply say that if he’d written what I’d written, it would have set my feminine heart aflutter.

I set the flowers down on the coffee table, carefully arranging them again so they were just so before heading back to the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine and a glass which I’m sure would quickly become superfluous.

It was kind of funny. I had gotten all dressed up just so I could kick off my heels and hide my sexiness by getting all snug as a bug in a rug under a knit blanket after putting in the first movie, Legally Blonde. I watched that movie first because it’s just one of those movies that always has a way of cheering me up when I’m depressed, even if it’s just a little bit, like on a dark day such as today.

Valentine’s Day always seemed to be a bad day for me in spite of my best efforts. I winced as memories of Valentine’s Day past worked their way to the surface, specifically, the unexpected confrontation between my ex-fiancée and I. That was my cue. It was time to stop thinking about the past and nip this downward spiral in the bud. It was time to press play.

The opening credits of Legally Blonde started, and before they were finished, I had already downed my first glass of wine. I poured another, and Elle Woods helped me wait out the first hour and forty-five minutes of what would turn out to be forever known as the Great Valentine’s Day ice storm.

It was near the end of the film and I was lightly dozing as much as Zoe was when it happened.

Snap! Crack! Thud!

I was snapped back to reality to the sight of the power flickering once more. I walked over to the sliding glass door with Zoe accompanying me the whole way with her tail still tucked between her legs. I looked past the thick icicles on the railing of the deck at a landscape that seemed to be changing by the minute. I searched among all of the sagging limbs until my eyes landed on one of Nature’s first victims about a quarter of the way into the woods. The sturdy limb was just lying there on the ground as if it had always been there until I looked up about three dozen feet and noticed a sheered area of clean and pale wood where the avulsion had occurred.

There was another snap, this time further to the left. Then there was another deeper into the woods and to the right, just outside of my field of view. And then there was another, followed by several more in quick succession. It was like some angry giant was roaming the normally quiet woods, slapping limbs at random with a clumsy hand.

Then the power went out. It dropped out like my heart seemed to drop in my chest at the sound of that first inevitable snap and thud against the unforgiving frozen ground.

I walked back into the living room and stared at the blank screen for a few moments. Oh well. So much for the best laid plans. But I was prepared, as indeed I hoped most people were prepared. Not only had I not forgotten to charge my phone and laptop, but I hadn’t forgotten to bring in armful after armful of wood from underneath the deck.

In place of the glow of the television, I lit some starter logs and had a roaring fire going in no time to replace the lost ambiance as best I could. As wonderful as the warmth of the fire was as I cozied back up with my blanket on the couch, I would have traded it for the warmth of some companionship. I fought back a couple of tears while I pulled the blanket closer.

I tried to focus on the crackling of the fire instead of the nerve wracking sound of limbs snapping off and crashing in the distance. As time passed by, and I plied myself with more wine, the assault outside became less jarring and it seemed I was becoming as habituated as a city dweller who lives near an elevated train. I soon drifted off to sleep.

I would have slept the afternoon away if nature would have eased her assault on the landscape. But she had no intention of going out that quietly. After only being asleep a few hours, I was jolted back to reality by a sound equivalent to about one-hundred crackling fires. It was so violent that I felt the vibrations course their way through the house and shake the walls.

I jumped to my feet. Now I was shaking like the walls had been a few moments earlier. I rushed over and parted the curtains of one of the north facing windows of the living room.

“Oh my God. Scott!” I said in a loud whisper, holding my hand over my mouth.

The ancient tree that had survived the onslaught of hurricane Isabelle and the brief fury of the June 2012 derecho had finally succumbed, a victim of its own somewhat precarious posture after trying to right itself after nature’s vicious pruning.

The massive tree had crashed into the back left of Scott’s house, demolishing the master bath along with most of the bedroom as well. If anyone was in that room, God help them.

I had to go check on him to see if he was okay. Still a little out of it, I put on my heels and stumbled my way to the closet. I fumbled for my coat in the darkness and threw it on. Before I could even open the door, there was a desperate pounding on the door.

Scott was mid knock when I thrust the door open.

“Thank God you’re alright!” I said, placing my hand over my heart.

“I know,” he said, forcing a smile. “Must be my lucky day. I was up in the bedroom about fifteen minutes before that tree came crashing down on it. I knew I should have had that tree cut down before I moved in.” He clutched his black North Face coat closer to his body.

I nodded. “Yeah…But all that matters is that you’re safe now. Come on inside. Let’s get you out of the cold before you catch your death out there.”

“Or I slip and kill myself on the ice,” he said, forcing another smile before he crossed the threshold.

“Sorry. I was going to salt the walk but I forgot. I wasn’t expecting it to get this bad.”

“No problem. I don’t think anyone was expecting it to be this bad,” he said as he stepped into the hallway.

Shifting my attention to the scrabbling that was coming from behind me, I smiled at Zoe. Her tail was wagging and she seemed to have quickly recovered from her earlier trauma.

Glancing back at Scott, I introduced him to this most eager member of my family. “This is Zoe. Zoe, say hi to our next door neighbor Scott.”

“Hey there Zoe,” he said, kneeling down. “She seems friendly enough.”

He rose to his feet and took his coat off, revealing a dark blue sweater. But despite all the insulation on that tall and thin frame of his, he still seemed to be shivering.

I said, “Let me put on another log and get this fire going again.”

Before I could walk over, he said, “No, no. Don’t trouble yourself Stephanie. Let me take care of it. It’s the least I can do.”

“Okay. Thanks. Would you like anything while I’m up?”

“No thanks. I just came over here to use the phone mainly. Hopefully I can get in touch with my insurance company.”

I grabbed the empty wine bottle and wine glass and quickly cleared them out of sight while he was stoking the fire. He closed the mesh screen and stood up.

Taking a load off in one of the beige chairs, he said, “You have no idea how glad I was to see your car in the driveway. Now that Mark and Lynn from across the street are on that cruise, you’re the only one else in this neighborhood that I know so to speak.”

“Gee thanks,” I teased.

“No. No. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that I’m still a little new and don’t know that many people and to be perfectly honest, when it comes to women such as yourself, I’m a little…you know, I’m just not very good at striking up a conversation.”

My heart skipped a beat. With arms akimbo, I said, “What do you mean women like me?”

“I’m sorry?” My expression softened and he continued on. “I…I didn’t mean anything by it. When I said women like you, I just meant, well look at you. I just meant to say you look very nice dressed the way you are.” I smiled at the complement, but then he shook his head. “Sorry. This day has just been such a disaster. I must be coming across as such an idiot right now. I never was any good at small talk or anything like that. That’s probably the reason that…”

“The reason what?” I wondered.

“Never mind. Can I please use your phone now?”

“Sure. My cell’s on the coffee table. The reception is okay. It’s better out on the deck but that’s probably not such a good idea right now.”

“Thanks,” he said, reaching for it. “My cell along with my laptop were on my desk which are now crushed together underneath that damned tree. At least my wallet wasn’t there too.”

He pulled out his insurance card and dialed the number. He paced around the room while it rang on the other end. His face lit up briefly until he realized he had gotten through to a recorded message.

He sat down and waited patiently for a few minutes. After five minutes, even I was getting tired of the muzak. He finally shook his head before hitting the end call button.

He said, “It’s probably best if I call back later. There are probably about a hundred people ahead of me. I don’t want to run down your battery.” He shrugged his shoulders and handed it back to me. I noticed his hand was still a little shaky when he handed it back to me.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink? It looks like you might be my guest here for quite a while and you really look like you could use one.”

“Uh…I don’t know.”

“Well I’m going to pour myself one. I don’t anticipate going for a drive anytime soon.”

“That’s true. The last I checked, most of the roads were impassable. I suppose it’s just a matter of time before all of the roads are closed. You know what? Maybe I will have just one drink to calm my nerves.”

“Now you’re talking. It’s not every day you have a brush with death and live to tell the tale. I’m having wine, but I’ve got some whiskey if you want something stronger.”

“Wine sounds fine.”

I poured two glasses of wine and strode into the living room with a smile. “Here you are,” I said.

With a half smile, I raised my glass and said, “Here’s to a long delay of your appointment with the Grim Reaper.”

He frowned as he raised his glass half heartedly. Then he looked at the roses on the coffee table. He managed a brief obligatory light smile before saying, “And to Valentine’s Day. At least one of us will be able to make a day out of it.” I frowned before pursing my lips and averting my gaze. “Oh I’m sorry. I forgot. I guess he won’t be able to make it out on account of the weather.”

“Something like that,” I said almost in a whisper. I took another sip of my wine. “I’m sorry you’re going to be alone today, as if it isn’t bad enough having a tree laying in your bedroom.”

“Yeah. But what can you do? My fiancée was going to try to fly out this morning but…” He pointed toward the window with the now half full glass of wine still in his hand. “Oh well. Best laid plans as they say.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

He shook his head before saying, “You know, the funny thing is, I had just finished unpacking and gotten everything just right for today. All that work and…” His voice trailed off and he started chuckling. “I have no idea why I’m laughing right now. I know there’s nothing funny about the present situation, but I just can’t seem to help myself.”

“I think if you couldn’t laugh at life sometimes when it throws you a curve ball, you’d go insane. At least I know I would. And an infusion of alcohol now and again doesn’t hurt either. I downed the rest of my glass.” I set it down and stifled a burp. “Want some more?” I wondered, eyeing his quarter full glass.

“Now you’re talking,” he said.

This time I brought a fresh bottle of wine out with me along with some snacks.

I said, “Here’s some crackers and cheese if you get hungry. There’s plenty of food in the fridge too. Plenty of cold cuts and some leftovers if you get really hungry.”

“Thanks,” he said.

“I figure we might as well start eating what’s in there. Who knows how long we’re going to be without power. The last ice storm I had to deal with, my family and I were out of power for four days. We had soup for Christmas dinner.”

“Really?” he said, munching on a cracker. “Where’d you live?”

“Williamsburg.”

“Yeah. I think I vaguely remember that one. Must have been a fun Christmas.”

“It was memorable alright. All I’ll say is that thank goodness we had a fireplace, a kerosene heater, and lots of board games, which is why I never live in a place without a fireplace.”

“I hear ya there.”

“And speaking of board games, I’ve got quite a few if you start getting bored.”

He chuckled before saying, “Maybe. But do you mind if I use your phone again first?”

“Go right ahead.”

“Let’s see if I can get through to State Farm this time. Got to try and get in touch with my fiancée and let her know I’m still alive too.” He picked up the phone with one hand and put his other hand in his pocket. Once again, he started pacing around the living room. Then, he made his way toward the sliding glass door. “Can I borrow your umbrella? The reception is really lousy right now and I think I might need to step out onto the deck.”

“Sure. Let me grab it for you.” I handed it to him and then said, “Wait here for a sec.” I walked over to the pantry and grabbed some salt. “Here you go. Can’t be too careful you know.”

“Thanks,” he said with a smile. “Who knew making a phone call could be so dangerous. Let’s see if I can do this without slipping and breaking a hip.”

After he stepped out, I watched him sprinkle the salt on a two by two square section. As the salt ate through the thick coating, I thought back on his earlier comment. I frowned at the realization that if he broke something, I’d probably have to splint it myself. I wasn’t even sure if an ambulance could make it out here. If the carnage in my backwoods was any indication, you probably couldn’t swing a dead cat without running into another downed tree across any of the secondary roads.

Then again, the idea of tending to him and nursing him back to health wasn’t entirely unappealing. He was kind of cute, in an awkward nerdy sort of way with his disheveled brown hair and glasses. Then I mentally slapped myself for indulging such thoughts. First of all, he had a fiancée, and second of all, even if he didn’t, he didn’t know about me. As far as he was concerned, I was just the attractive neighbor lady whose looks made him kind of nervous.

I looked up and bit my lip. “Thanks a lot!” I whispered loudly. “Thanks once again for reminding me of what I can’t have at the moment you sadist!” I would have given God the finger if it wasn’t for Scott turning around and reaching for the door.

I opened it for him, and he briefly turned away to shake out the umbrella before handing it to me.

“Any luck?” I asked, while he shook off the cold.

Hands in his pockets, he just shrugged and said, “Still couldn’t get through to State Farm. Guess it will have to wait till tomorrow maybe. Anyway, it’s not like that tree is going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Did you get a hold of your fiancée?”

He hesitated a few seconds before saying, “Yeah. Most of the flights are grounded. She’s not going to be making it out here anytime soon. So the question is, what do I do now? I can’t stay in my house tonight. And even if there was a motel with electricity, there’s no way I could get to it. I doubt I could even make it up that first hill to get out of the neighborhood.”

“Don’t fret,” I said. “You can stay here until you figure things out. I’ve got plenty of room.”

“Look. I don’t want to impose or anything.”

“Trust me. You’re not imposing. I really want to do this. So Whadda ya say? Do you want to drink some wine with me and help make this Valentine’s Day a little less lousy?”

“Sure,” he said, managing a warm and genuine smile for the first time. “Given the circumstances, I think my fiancée will understand. What about you? Please tell me your boyfriend isn’t a big football player who’s the jealous type?”

I simply smiled and shook my head. If only I could reassure my neighbor by telling him that my significant other was as jealous as he was real.

Rubbing his hands together he said, “I think I’ll take you up on your earlier offer. You wouldn’t happen to have Scrabble would you?”

“You bet. It’s in the hall closet on the top shelf. Why don’t you go ahead and set it up. I’m going to make a sandwich. Want one?”

“Uh…Yeah. Thanks. I only had coffee and a bagel for breakfast. I guess I should probably eat something.”

“No problem. Two sandwiches coming right up.”

When I came back into the living room, the deluxe version of the game was set up on the coffee table. Scott was petting Zoe after stoking the fire.

“Isn’t she just the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen?” I asked.

“She sure is. I’ve always been more of a cat person myself, but I might just change my mind here.”

“It’s funny you should say that,” I said, setting the plates down. “I’ve actually got a cat. She’s probably upstairs right now on my bed. I’m sure she’ll be down here soon enough.”

“Is she as friendly as Zoe here?”

“Oh yeah. She and Zoe are the best of friends if you can believe that.”

“Wow,” he remarked. “Oh my! Cats and dogs living together. What has the world come to?”

I couldn’t help but giggle. “Here, let me get these roses out of the way.” I picked up the vase and carried it over to the mantle and set it down. “I’m going to go ahead and get us something to drink. Something other than alcohol I mean. Watch the food carefully if you would please. Zoe may seem all sweet and innocent, but she never misses an opportunity if your back is turned for a few seconds.” Once I was back in the kitchen, I hollered, “What would you like? I’ve got water, milk, iced tea, and some diet sodas.”

“Iced tea is fine,” he said.

I grabbed the drinks and set them down on the coffee table as well. Then, I pulled up a chair.

“Here,” I said, grabbing the bag of tiles and giving it a good shake. “Let’s see who’s going to go first.”

I pulled out a tile and hesitated before looking at it and furrowing my brow.

“What’d you get?”

“A t. Hmm. That shouldn’t be too hard to beat.”

“I wouldn’t count on it. I never have been very lucky. Alright,” he said. “Let’s see what lady luck has in store for me.” He closed his eyes and felt around for a second or two. “Ahh,” he began. “An H. Looks like my luck is finally starting to turn around.” We both laughed after he looked at me and smiled.

He drew the rest of his tiles and about a minute or so later, he made his word. I smiled as he arranged the letters horizontally.

Nodding I said, “Heat. Somehow that seems very appropriate given the circumstances.”

Next, I made the word love. “Maybe we’re on our way to a Valentine’s Day themed board here.”

“Maybe so,” he chuckled.

It wasn’t long until the fire had eaten away at the logs as much as we had eaten our sandwiches. The Valentine’s Day themed board that I felt ambivalent about creating didn’t exactly pan out. In fact, one of the words I made on my second to last turn was “hate” among a random assortment of others. It seemed as if I was managing to get one last word in edgewise regarding a day I was beginning to despise almost as much as New Year’s Day, when my Christmas Tree ends up a green corpse by the curb. However, I was grateful that he won. You know how guys can get when they lose a game, even if it’s just to pass the time on a dreary day.

While he gathered up the tiles and stuffed them back into the bag, I looked over by the fireplace and noticed Zoe was gone. Then I heard a whining coming from the door.

“I’d better take her out,” I said. “She’s getting restless.”

I rushed into the kitchen and grabbed what was left of the table salt. There wasn’t much left, but at least I could make the steps less treacherous. I slowly opened the foggy storm door to make sure I didn’t unleash the hound and sprinkled the remainder of the contents on a small area of each of the three steps. Thankfully, there was an overhang above the small porch area.

After a matter of seconds, I returned inside and got the retractable leash and prayed that Zoe wouldn’t pull too much, at least not until after we descended the steps.

As it turns out, it wasn’t Zoe’s usual impatient pulling that was the problem. After crunching around on the grass for what seemed like an interminable amount of time, she finally did her business. We were taking a short cut across the frosted flower bed to bypass the treacherous driveway when the loud snapping of a neighbor’s pear tree caught me by surprise and startled me. It happened just as I was stepping back onto the aggregate walkway between the flower bed and the steps. I didn’t scream; instead, I yelped like Zoe when I accidentally stepped on her paw that one time. A few seconds later, Scott rushed out.

“Stephanie! Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“Just my pride I think,” I said, as I tried to rise to a sitting position. “Maybe I should have changed out of this dress first. I must look completely ridiculous now.”

“Here,” he said, extending his hand. “Let me help you up.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Just watch your footing.”

He knelt down and grasped my hand. He hesitated a few moments as his smile met mine. I can’t explain it, but for the briefest of moments I felt the strongest connection I had ever felt while gazing into his brown eyes. My heart fluttered, and I don’t think it had anything to do with adrenaline. The feeling persisted as he helped me up, until he lost his footing a little and had to avert his gaze while steadying himself. The moment had passed. And it was probably for the best anyway.

We walked like penguins back into the house.

“Ahhh,” I said. “Look who’s decided to join us.”

My cat Sabrina had jumped up onto the divider separating the hallway from the living room with her usual cheerful chirp.

“Who’s a pretty kitty,” I cooed, stroking her fur.

“Oh. She’s a calico. I used to have a Calico when I was a little boy.” He started scratching her head as he reminisced, and she revved her motor even louder until she was competing with the crackling of the fireplace.

“Wow. She really likes you.”

“I guess she senses I’m a cat person.” He frowned before saying, “I’m just glad that I didn’t have a cat in the house when it happened. “She-I mean my cat-passed a few months before I moved out here. I don’t know, maybe it was for the best.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks.” He managed a half smile before continuing on. “But she had a nice long life. She went peacefully in her sleep. We should all be so lucky. Right?”

I could tell he was fighting back some tears. So was I. I picked up Sabrina and held her against my bosom and gave her a kiss on the head before setting her back down.

I said, “I guess all we can do is love them as much as we can while they’re here.”

He nodded before retreating to the living room. Parting the mesh screen, he stoked the fire again, even though the fire seemed to be doing fine on its own at the moment, the flames cheerfully dancing away. I think he just needed a few moments to compose himself, and so did I.

I smiled again at Sabrina’s usual offering of unconditional love as a wayward tear coursed its way down my cheek. “You’re not going to leave mommy, are you sweetie?” I whispered. “Not ever.” I stroked her fur once more while she arched her back before I returned to the living room.
Scott sat back down and slumped in the plush chair. I think Sabrina picked up on his mood, for she jumped up on his lap. She settled down on his lap after a few pets.

Noticing him glancing at the coffee table a couple of times, I said, “I can hand you my cell phone if you need to call your fiancée again since you seem to be a little indisposed at the moment.”

“That’s okay. I’ll try and call her later.”

For a while, everyone just sat and enjoyed the warmth from the fire. The dancing of the flames and Zoe’s quiet snoring was hypnotic, and I found myself nodding off a couple of times. I awoke to the sound of a couple more logs being thrown on the fire and the sight of Sabrina cuddled up with Zoe in front of the fire.

Scott smiled at the cute scene before saying, “We’re starting to run low on wood. Maybe now would be a good time to grab some more while we still have a little bit of light left.”

I nodded. “That’s probably a good idea. There should be plenty under that tarp on the deck. There’s a canvass carrier in the garage. Let me go ahead and get that for you. It should make things easier.”

I met him by the sliding glass door with the carrier. I got the door for him after he loaded up some wood. As he filled up the metal rack after making his fourth trip, it was getting close to sunset.

“That should last us through the night,” he said, brushing off his hands after folding up the carrier.

“Boy,” I remarked. “The temperature sure has dropped out there. As cold as it is, you think the rain would have turned to snow by now.”

“I wish. Give me snow any day. At least you can get some traction.”

He sat back down and stared pensively at the flames. I got up and fed Sabrina and Zoe. After Zoe ate, Scott accompanied me when I took Zoe outside for what I hoped would be my last excursion of the evening.

With our backs to the misery that was the stinging wind driven rain, he chatted me up while Zoe kept circling over and over again in her fleece lined water resistant coat.

“How long have you lived here?” asked Scott.

“Just over a year.”

“What brought you out here?”

“I needed a fresh start. You see, I went through a painful divorce. I could’ve stayed. I had a better paying job, but I just felt I needed to get as far away as possible from my old life. So I took the job and now it’s just me and Sabrina and Zoe.”

“And your boyfriend too. Right?”

“Oh yeah. Him too.” I let out a nervous laugh before quickly changing the subject. “What about you?”

“A new job brought me to this area.” In his best Marlon Brando voice he said, “They made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. At first, my fiancée wasn’t too happy about it. But eventually, she said she’d join me out here. You see, she’s got a lot of family out there and it was hard for her. We were supposed to have a nice Valentine’s Day together, you know, to tide us over until she moved out in the spring.”

“Well at least you’ve got something to look forward too. Until then, it’s kind of like the song. Momma always said there’d be days like these.”

“Yeah,” he said softly. Forcing the corners of his mouth to lift up ever so slightly, he said, “Momma was certainly right.”

“Come on Zoe!” I shouted. “Any day now princess!”

She finally went, and by the time we made it back inside after she scrabbled up the steps, I figured her most recent deposit was probably already frozen as much as my face was.

We eagerly returned to the softly glowing fire and continued talking in the waning light of late evening.

I said, “You said you came out here because of a job offer. What do you do?”

“I’m a software engineer. Mostly banking software in recent years. The job seems to suit my nature well enough. I won’t bore you with all of the details.”

“Well it’s not much more boring than what I do. I’m a math professor over at the university.”

“Oh really? That’s great. I always did like math because it’s the same in every time zone.”

“Very true. It’s kind of funny. I’m the only woman in the department without an Eastern European accent. Maybe I should learn Russian. At least I’d get more out of the stories that Golub tells.”

“Then maybe you can teach me. I always wanted to become fluent in another language.”

“I should be fluent by now. I’ve got this stack of CDs just collecting dust up on my bookshelf.”

“Which language?”

“Italian. I’ve always wanted to go on holiday in Italy.”

“No way!” he said, leaning forward in his chair. “My fiancée and I were going to go to Italy on our honeymoon. To Positano.” I must have been wearing a look of puzzlement on my face at his use of the word “were” because he said, “It’s still up in the air. But I’d really like to go. Ultimately, I guess it’s up to her.”

“Well I hope you two make it there, and I hope I get to check it off of my bucket list one of these days.” I paused before raising my glass. “To Positano.”

“To Positano!”

I looked outside once more at the dreary silhouette and managed a smile.

“What?” he wondered.

“I was just picturing sitting outside at a café in Positano, drinking my wine and watching the water sparkle in the sun set.” What I omitted was that I wasn’t alone in my fantasy. Scott was right next to me with his arm around me.

I stood up and sighed before walking toward the east facing windows. Scott idly twirled his wine glass while I closed the red curtains.

I looked at Scott and asked, “Hungry?”

“I’m getting there. All this talk has gotten me in an Italian kind of mood. Want to order a pizza?”

We shared a hearty laugh before I offered up a less palatable alternative. “How about some soup and sandwiches?”

“But there’s no electricity.”

“No problem. I’ve got some camping stuff in the garage.”

I ducked into the chilly one car garage and rummaged through some Rubbermaid containers before returning with a pot and the stand to go with it.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said, but you are full of surprises.

“I’m not just your typical girl,” I said, raising my eyebrow ever so slightly. “Having to rough it is nothing new to me.” I poured the soup into the pot and set it over the steadily glowing bright orange remnant embers.

“Wish I could say the same,” he said, stirring the soup. “But this is kind of fun. I’ve never been camping before.”

“Really?” I said, feigning surprise.

“Nope. I know it’s hard to believe,” he added with a hint of sarcasm. “I was never in the Boyscouts.”

I had been and I smiled at the irony of it all.

He said, “Unlike my brother, I was into model planes and model rockets and stuff like that. And to top it all off, I was into computers and liked Math. I went to Math camp and my brother became an Eagle Scout, and he never forgot to ride me about it. The kids at school didn’t treat me much better either. But that was a long time ago. I’m not even sure why I’m telling you all this, but…” His voice trailed off.

“Maybe we have more in common than you think. I know what it’s like to be different. I mean how many girls are really into math? Furthermore, how many grow up to teach Calculus and Differential Equations?”

“Did you go through an awkward phase too?”

“If you consider middle school all the way through my sophomore year at University a phase, than yes, I definitely can relate.”

“I find that very hard to believe,” he said, before taking another sip of his wine.

“Trust me,” I said. “I didn’t always look the way I do now.”

“Really?” he said with a wry smile. “I’d love to see a picture of you from middle school.”

“Believe me when I say you really don’t want to.”

“I understand.”

He suddenly appeared a little self conscious, and I simply attributed it to the fact that perhaps he thought his request was out of bounds considering we had only known each other for a matter of hours. But sitting there with him by the fire, laughing and talking, it sometimes felt we had known each other for much longer. His casual request to see a picture of a girl who didn’t yet exist until just over a year ago had a comfortable ease to it, as if we had been dating for a while and this wasn’t the first time I’d invited him over to my place and he wasn’t just feigning interest to get me in the sack. I sincerely wished I could produce the picture of the awkward girl he was probably already trying to picture in his mind’s eye. And it should have been a relief not to have to continually sidestep the issue since there seemed to be zero chance of us ever dating, but that wasn’t the case.

“Soup’s ready,” I observed. “Why don’t you go ahead and pour me a bowl. I’m going to find some candles.”

I left that feeling of intimacy by the fire. Now, eating our soup in our respective chairs, the only thing intimate about the living room was the warmth and lighting.

“That was really good,” he said. “I especially liked the honey Dijon on my roast beef sandwich. Could I trouble you for another glass of wine? It’s just that it was so good.”

“Sure. In fact, I think I’ll have another. We’re out of Cabernet, is Merlot alright?”

“Sounds good to me. Like I said, whatever you have is fine.” Handing him the glass, he said, “I just feel fortunate to have a good meal, a warm place to stay, and someone really nice to talk to.”

“Thanks,” I said. I felt myself blush a little, but it was lost in the red orange glow that my face was basking in at the moment.

He took a generous sip before tending to the fire once more. Before the fire had a chance to spring back to life and start crackling loudly again, the sudden quiet struck me as odd. Looking up, I remarked, “I think the rain is finally letting up.”

“Good thing,” he said. “The last time we were out there, it looked like we had about three quarters of an inch of accumulation.”

“I’ve never seen trees bowed down as bad as this before. This is even worse than the ’98 Christmas storm in my opinion.”

“Looks like the worst is over,” he reassured.

“I hope so,” I said, as the distant sound of a siren faded in the distance. And I wasn’t just talking about the ice storm. I was thinking about the storm that had raged in my mind for so long until it finally spilled out into my marriage on that terrible, and in hindsight, inevitable day, and cut a swath of destruction like that derecho back in June of 2012. No. The ice storm was nothing compared to all of the collateral damage from my coming out of the closet. The damage from the ice storm was fixable and eventually things would return to normal. But there was no going back for me. This town and this house, so far away from my old life, were as close to normal as things were going to get.

Glass in hand, Scott eased his way down next to Zoe who was still snoring away. He drank his wine and rhythmically stroked her soft fur. My eyes took on a faraway look. I took a break from staring vacantly at the fire and shifted my gaze to the roses on the mantle. The ever changing character of the light lapping at their stems presented them in different shades of red from moment to moment in what should have been a beautiful randomness. However, the beautiful randomness was lost on me.

“She’s not coming,” said Scott, in a barely audible voice, as soft as the wine he was sipping.
But his voice was loud enough, for it calmly snapped me out of my silent reverie like softly falling drops of water on the glassy surface of a pond.

“Hmm?” I wondered.

“My fiancée Julia isn’t coming.”

“I know. You told me her flight was cancelled.”

“There was never any flight,” he said in an unwavering monotone. “And there’s not going to be one.” He looked up at me, but I was at a loss for words. He continued on. “She was supposed to come out. She was going to come out and see if we could patch things up. I thought maybe she would until I got this text from her yesterday morning.” He shook his head. “A break up text the day before Valentine’s Day. Can you believe that? She didn’t even have the decency to tell me in person just like she didn’t have the decency to tell me that the reason she didn’t want to move wasn’t because of her family but because she didn’t want to be away from her boyfriend.”

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry.”

“I should have seen it coming. Intellectually, I think I knew it wasn’t going to work, but I kept hoping against hope. Like I said, I got everything just right in the house for a perfect candlelight dinner. But now instead of my fiancée laying next to me in bed, I’ve got a big ass tree there instead.” He paused for a few moments before speaking. “I don’t know why I told you all that. I really shouldn’t be dumping on you. Maybe it’s all of the wine, or…” His expression softened when he looked me in the eyes and continued on. “I don’t know what it is, but when I look at you, I just feel like I could tell you anything and you wouldn’t judge me. You know what I’m talking about?”

“Actually, it’s funny that you should say that. I know exactly what you’re talking about.” I flashed him a sympathetic smile.

“I just wish I would have had that with my fiancée, I mean my ex-fiancee.” He looked up at the roses and forced a smile. “Your boyfriend is a very lucky guy.”

I slowly made my way toward him and eased my body down next to him. I stroked Zoe’s fur while I gazed in his eyes. He wore a warm smile on his face and I reciprocated with much more than the warm and understanding smile of a sympathetic friend. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but I gently pressed my soft index finger over his lip. I suddenly felt powerless in this moment staring into his searching eyes full of a longing that seemed to mirror the longing inside me.

“You were honest with me, so I think it’s time I should be honest with you.” Without breaking eye contact, I said, “When I told you those roses were from my boyfriend, I lied.”

“Why?” he said, completely lost in my feminine face.

“Because…Because…” My voice trailed off. I wanted to tell him it was because I didn’t want to come across as pathetic. The last thing I wanted at the moment was pity. But I remained silent for a while.

Aside from telling him about the roses, my conscience wanted me to come clean about my past before one thing had a chance to lead to another and both of us would end up getting hurt, but the honesty of the moment begged me to do otherwise. And there was honesty in this moment. In this moment he didn’t see me as anything but an attractive woman just like I didn’t see him as anyone other than a man that obviously wanted me as much as I wanted him. My conscience steadily lost ground to my desire until it was swept away as the crest of my passion washed over me. I pressed my lips against his, and soon he had his arms wrapped around me, as helpless in the moment as I was. But I caught sight of those damn roses again when I opened my eyes.

I reluctantly pulled away. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” I said breathlessly.

“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe we shouldn’t rush into things.”

Retreating to my chair, I said, “Wait. That’s not the reason I pulled away. I really like you, but I just can’t keep certain things from you and hope things will turn out for the best. That’s a recipe for disaster.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t understand?”

“I know you’re a really nice and understanding guy and all but…” I sighed. “You know what, this is a bad idea. Maybe you’re right. We shouldn’t rush things and what I’ve got to say can wait.”

“What is it?” he asked with pleading eyes. “You can tell me.” Positioning himself closer to me on the couch, he said, “I swear. You can tell me.”

“I know you genuinely believe that right now, but I’m afraid that if I tell you about my past, you won’t want to be with me. And as far as my fresh start in this town is concerned, well that’ll be all she wrote.”

Gently grasping my hand, he softly said, “Whatever you feel you need to tell me about your past, I swear I’ll keep in the strictest of confidence.”

“You promise?” I asked with a dead serious expression on my face.

With an equally dead serious expression on his face, he said, “You have my word.”

“Okay,” I relented, my expression softening somewhat. Still nodding, I said, “Alright. I’ll tell you. But after I tell you, I’ll understand if you want to leave.”

“And go where?” he said with a smile. “It’s a pitch black skating rink out there.”

“Good point,” I said, rising up off the couch. As if I was about to deliver a speech, I stood in front of the fireplace and nervously cleared my throat, as if that would make things easier. “Like I told you earlier, I haven’t always looked the way I do now.” I sighed as I tried to find the right words. “Remember how I told you I’m a divorcee? Well up until about a year and a half ago, I was happily married, or so my wife thought.”

“Wife? You mean you’re a…”

I cut him off before he could say the L word. “Just let me finish. Let’s see. How should I put this? Ever since I was about five or six, I knew I was different from the other children. I knew something wasn’t right. I felt it with every fiber of my being. I never felt comfortable in my own skin. I knew it had nothing to do with shyness or anything like that. I wasn’t the most outgoing kid, but I also wasn’t introverted and made friends easily enough. Anyway, those feelings never went away, no matter how much older I became or how much I tried to suppress them. For some reason, I thought marriage was the answer. But the feelings returned with a vengeance and eventually made themselves known. Sixteen months ago, my wife comes home early. She hopped an earlier flight to surprise me after attending a conference. And boy was I surprised, but not as much as she was.”

“I’m a little confused,” he said, scratching his head.

“I’m getting to that. Like I said, when she returned, she was more surprised than I was. Actually, shocked is probably the right word to use. She met Stephanie for the first time instead of her husband Stephen. I was dressed to the nines, although I assure you, I didn’t look nearly as good then as I do now. It’s been a long journey.”

“Oh my God,” he began. “You mean to say?”

I nodded and averted my gaze. “Yes. I used to be a man. I started transitioning fourteen months ago from Steve to Stephanie. My surgery is scheduled over Spring Break.”

“You mean you haven’t…” He made a scissors motion with his finger.

I shook my head. “I’ve only had the facial feminization surgery so far.”

“Jesus. I mean wow. You here about these things all the time in the news, but I wasn’t quite expecting this. I never expected it to happen to me. At first I thought you were going to tell me you used to be a lesbian. But are you sure you’re not joking? I know you look like you’re not joking, but you have to look at it from my perspective. I mean you’re really pretty and it’s just hard for me to wrap my mind around you not being a woman your whole life.”

“Trust me. Just talk to my family if you don’t believe me.”

“How’d they take it, your family I mean?”

“Not well. It’s probably best if I omit all of the upsetting details of the ordeal. They basically said I was dead to them after I told them I wouldn’t change my mind about becoming a woman. That was thirteen months ago. They haven’t been any more supportive than my wife was when she decided to leave me.” I forced a laugh. “Talk about your irreconcilable differences.” I motioned with my head toward the door. “Like I said, I understand if you want to leave.”

“Why did you tell me at all?”

“I’m not entirely sure. I suppose I didn’t want to come out of the closet just to go into hiding again. You’d find out eventually. I thought it would be better if you heard it from me.” I wiped away a couple of tears. “I think I need some more wine.”

There was silence as I walked into the kitchen. He pondered what I said as I poured another glass. When I returned, I sat down and called Sabrina up on my lap, trying to find some solace in her purr while I scratched under her chin.

Now it was his turn to get up. He paced in front of the fire a few times before stopping and putting his hands in his pockets. He looked as if he was studying something on the floor when he spoke again. “This is definitely the most unexpected day of my life thus far. What’s even more unexpected is my reaction. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not disgusted. I’m a little weirded out, but I’m not disgusted. I don’t want to run away screaming. If anything, I’m a little confused now. My eyes are telling me one thing, but my mind is telling me another. All I can see is this smart, genuine, kind, and attractive woman wearing a sexy dress on the couch. And I know this is crazy, and maybe it’s the wine talking, but all I can think about is kissing you again. I mean, does that make me gay? She what I mean when I tell you that I’m confused?” He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “I’ll tell you what, when it comes to women, I’ve got no luck. I meet one woman and all she does is criticize me and cheat on me behind my back, and then just when I think I’ve met a great girl and start thinking maybe, just maybe, that tree that fell on my house might not have been such a bad thing after all , she turns out not to be one.” Scott plopped down in one of the chairs and stared at the fire.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.

“Well, at least you had the decency to tell me before we made our way into the bedroom. I guess it must have taken a lot of courage to tell me what you did.”

“You have no idea. I was sweating bullets. I wish there was something I could say or do to make up for ruining your evening.”

Smiling, he said, “I think the tree and my ex beat you to the punch.”

After a long and uncomfortable silence, while he chewed over everything in his mind, he stood up and announced, “You know what? Screw it. Let’s just forget about the past for the rest of the night and try to make the most of the situation.” Glancing at the clock on the mantle, he said, “We’ve got about four and a half hours of Valentine’s Day left, so what should we do?”

“We can check Scrabble off the list.”

“And while we’re at it, we can check off Truth or Dare.”

“Definitely,” I said, managing a laugh. “I’ve got it!” I exclaimed. “Smores.”

“Smores?”

“You said you’ve never been camping before, so why not. We’ve got the fire and I’ve got all of the ingredients. It’ll fun. And the best part is, there’ll be no mosquitoes to swat away.”

“You do make a compelling argument. As I recall, mosquitoes were my number one reason for not going camping in the first place.”

“Great. Then it’s settled. I’ll go grab everything.”

As strange as it sounds, smores came to the rescue and salvaged the rest of the evening. The elephant in the downstairs was relegated to back of the kitchen as we sat in front of the fire and stuffed our faces with the tasty treat.

“It’s worse than potato chips,” remarked Scott. “You can’t eat just one, or three as in my case.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never had smores before?” I said.

“Well, I…”

“Wow. You really haven’t had you?” He just shrugged his shoulders. “Talk about a deprived childhood.”

“You have no idea.”

Finishing my fourth one, I noticed he was looking at me kind of funny while I smacked my lips together a little.

“You have a little…” he said, touching the right corner of his mouth.

“Here?” I asked, after a cursory wipe.

He shook his head. “Let me.” He picked up his napkin and brushed it lightly against the edge of my lip and I couldn’t help but close my eyes and savor the delightful tingling sensation and accompanying stirring in my blood that his gentle touch instigated.

I opened my eyes and smiled at him, and there was that feeling again, that he was just a man and I was just a woman. He smiled back and I could tell that he felt it too. No matter what happened between us in the ensuing days, at least we would have this night together. And who knows, maybe years from now, we’d be together at a dinner party where someone would ask us how we first met, and we would smile lovingly at each other before recounting the unlikely story of how two lonely souls were powerless against the warmth they felt in each other’s presence during the Great Valentine’s Day ice storm.

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