Tessdoesn’tfalter.Iautomaticallyshorten my stride for hershorter legs, but she keepsup, her hand a fist in mine, her other arm wrapped around her own ribs against the cold.
We reach my porch, andI shoulder the door, closing it behind us and dropping the bar.The cabin is warmwhere Ileft the stove burning.
Tess stands in the middle of my front room, snow on her hair, her glasses fogged completely, her cheeks the wrong kind of red.
“Off.” I’m already pulling at her cardigan. “Wet stuff off. You’re soaked.”
Her teeth chatter. “C-cold.”
“Yeah, you are. I’ve got you.”
Itugher cardigan off.Thedaffodil sweater is mostly dry, soI sit her on the rug in front of the wood stove.Dumpingthree logs in,Ipush the damper open, and the wood stove leans into its job like a horsepulling its cartup a hill.
“Tess, look at me.”
Her glasses are off, in her hand, andshe’sbreathing hard but evenly. Her color is coming back.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Anywhere?”
“No, Sullivan,I’mfine. I just…” She lets out a breath like a deflating balloon. “I’mfine.I’mfine.”Her face crumples.“Sullivan, my stand mixer.”
Areallaugh punches out of mefromnowhere,half from relief, half from the absurdity of a woman whose roof has eaten a tree and whose first conscious thought is the kitchen appliance.
“Your stand mixer,” I repeat.
“It was on the counter.”
“Tess.”
“I know.”
“Tess. Tomorrow, we’ll go down. We’ll assess. If it’s buried under a tree, I’ll dig out your stand mixer.”
“Personally?”
“Personally.”
“With your own hands.”
“With my own hands, Tess. Stop crying.”
“I’m not crying about the stand mixer.”
“I know you aren’t.”
“I’m crying because you would dig out my stand mixer.”
“Yeah.”My voice is rough.“I’d dig out your stand mixer.”
She wipes her face with both hands andlaughs,hiccupyandwatery.She’ssitting on my wood stove rug in two pairs of damp woolsocksand her glasses are in herlapand she’s the most beautiful thingI’veever seen in this room—theroomI’vebeen hiding in for forty-three days.
I make her tea.
Idon’tgive herthebluemug. The blue one is mine. I have a second mug, plain white, that came with the cabin,whichI’veused exactly once.I use it now,pouring boiling water overa tea bag, adding milk and sugar,and handingit to her.
