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Chapter 7
Saturday morning, Aaron rolled onto his back and opened his eyes. As if Clifford had been sitting there just waiting for some sign Aaron was awake, the dog jumped on the bed. Yesterday, Candace, Tiegan, and his mom left for Boston as soon as his niece stepped off the bus. With his usual bed partner gone, Clifford slept on the dog bed in Aaron’s room, the spot he’d always used at bedtime before Tiegan moved in and invited the dog to sleep with her.
At first, he’d been against letting Clifford sleep in Tiegan’s bed because at some point Tiegan wouldn’t be living there, and he didn’t want the dog to suddenly be jumping into his bed at night. When he suggested they put the dog bed in her room instead, she went along with it, although there had been a lot of pouting involved. At least, they had thought she’d gone along with it. But then Candace started finding the dog in his niece’s bed almost every morning when she went to wake Tiegan up for school. After that short-lived experiment, Aaron put the dog bed back in his room, and Clifford slept with his niece, which meant last night was the first time the dog had used it in months. He hadn’t been happy about it either. Twice, the dog had jumped on the bed, and Aaron had to move him back to the floor.
“Hey, bud.” He scratched the dog behind the ear and reached for his watch on the nightstand. The combination of room-darkening shades and curtains blocked out a significant amount of sunlight, making it difficult to gauge the time.
Almost six-thirty. No wonder his dog was not only awake but watching the bed for any signs of life. He wanted to eat. Tiegan got up early for school, and she fed the dog as soon as she came downstairs. He’d never assigned the chore to her; she’d simply taken it upon herself when she moved in.
“You want to eat.” At the word “eat,” the dog’s tail wagged. Aaron raked his hands down his face and then stared at the ceiling.
If it was up to him, he’d stay in bed for another hour or two. With the house to himself for the first time in seven months, he’d stayed up late watching movies he enjoyed. Movies that had a lot of action and often a lot of swearing. The type his niece was too young to watch, and his sister hated. Or he’d done that until the power went out around midnight.
The icy rain and hail accompanied by strong winds had started sometime around nine. Earlier in the day, the meteorologist had predicted the storm would begin around dinnertime, which was one of the reasons his sister insisted they leave when they did. He hadn’t been surprised when the storm didn’t begin on time. After all, this was New England. And if New England weather was anything, it was unpredictable. It also hadn’t shocked him when the power went out, considering the wind gusts outside. Later, when he got around to going outside, he’d no doubt find some downed limbs on the property.
What he wanted right now made little difference. Until he got up and fed Clifford, the dog wouldn’t leave him alone, which would make falling back to sleep impossible.
Chilly air greeted him when he tossed back the blankets, and he didn’t need to try the lamp next to his bed to know the power was still out. After pulling on the flannel pajama bottoms he’d tossed at the end of the bed, he pulled on a sweatshirt and some wool socks. As if he knew exactly what Aaron intended, Clifford jumped off the bed and waited by the bedroom door.
“I’m coming. I’m coming.” In response, the dog wagged his tail again, and as soon as Aaron opened the door, he bolted into the hallway. When he reached the stairs, he turned and looked back to make sure Aaron followed.
Growing up, they’d always had a small generator to power the water pump on the well, because without water, it was impossible to flush the toilet or wash your hands. After purchasing the home from his mom, he’d replaced it with a slightly larger one that could also power the refrigerator. More than once when he was a kid, they’d lost power, and as a result, all the food in the fridge. He’d considered getting something powerful enough to run the heating system and all the electrical outlets in the home too. In the end, he’d decided the cost wasn’t worth it. The house had a woodstove that did a decent job of heating the first floor, and he made sure he was never without wood no matter the time of year. Plus, when they lost power, it usually wasn’t for very long. Only once could he remember losing it for more than two days. He’d been twelve, and an early winter storm consisting of heavy wet snow brought down tree limbs and electrical wires across the state. The entire town had been without power for five days. While they’d had at least heat thanks to the woodstove and running water, many of their neighbors hadn’t been so lucky. In fact, his cousin Troy, his sister, and their parents had stayed with them until the electric company restored the power.
Like he often did when he reached the bottom of the stairs, he flipped up the light switch. “Idiot, the power is out,” he muttered.
Rather than continue to the kitchen, his usual first stop when he came downstairs in the morning, Aaron kneeled next to the woodstove and grabbed some firewood from the log rack as well as some kindling. Not surprisingly, Clifford, who’d already made it halfway to the kitchen, turned around when he realized Aaron no longer followed him and headed back in his direction. After parking his butt next to him, the dog started whining while Aaron worked on getting a fire going in the woodstove.
“I get it. You want to eat.” And he wanted some heat. “You’ve got a fur coat on. I don’t.” He paused long enough to pet the dog before retrieving the matches he kept in a drawer.
Confident the fire wouldn’t go out, he closed the load door and stood. “Okay, Clifford, let’s fill that belly of yours.” He’d rather avoid any additional complaints from his four-legged friend this morning.
Once he had the dog momentarily satisfied—he would undoubtedly beg for some of Aaron’s breakfast once he sat down—Aaron got the teakettle from the cupboard. He preferred coffee to hot tea, but since he couldn’t make any, he’d settle for caffeine in whatever form he could get it. And unless he wanted a can of cola, tea was all he had available.
For years, his parents had used an electric stove in the kitchen. When he’d had the room remodeled, he’d replaced it with a gas one instead. Not only did he prefer it for cooking, an activity he’d done almost every night until Candace moved in, but at times like this, it allowed him or whoever else was here to prepare a hot meal or boil water. And while he waited for the stove to do just that, he got the box of oatmeal from the pantry. Since he was boiling water anyway, a bowl of oatmeal would be a quick, easy, and, more importantly, warm breakfast. Precisely what this morning called for.
Juliette’s phone ringing penetrated her sleep and brought her pleasant dream to an abrupt and unsatisfying end. Rolling onto her side, she looked at the offending device on the nightstand. The name Daniel Green greeted her.
Seriously. Her dream had been ruined by that c
reep. She didn’t bother to answer. There wasn’t a single thing he could say to excuse his behavior. Later, when she moved from the comfort of her bed, she’d delete his number from her contact list. Why she hadn’t already done so was a mystery to her.
She moved onto her back again and stared up at the ceiling. Was the power still out? Around one o’clock or so, she’d woken up to use the bathroom only to discover the storm had knocked out the electricity. When the power went out at her condo, she didn’t think twice about it, since the building had emergency generators to ensure that the heat and the elevators worked. It was a similar case at her parents’ home, although there the generator kept every appliance and light working, making power outages no big deal.
The cottage didn’t have any backup systems. While it didn’t matter to her if she could turn on a light, especially at the moment, she cared about the heat. Although the outside temperature was most likely higher than if it’d still been January, no one would consider it toasty.
Reaching over, she tried the lamp on the nightstand. “Great,” she muttered when it didn’t switch on. She shoved her arm back under the blankets. In the city, service crews usually got things up and running again fairly quickly. But what about here? According to her phone, it was already nine o’clock. That meant the power had been out for at least eight hours. Perhaps even much longer, since last night she’d been unusually tired and had gone to bed before ten, an almost unheard-of event when she was in the city. Heck, some nights, she was just going out around that time.
With no place to be and nothing waiting for her except the new novel she’d started yesterday, she stayed under the covers until an empty stomach forced her to leave the comfort and relative warmth of her bed. Even before she made it down to the kitchen, she was reconsidering her decision. The unpleasant rumble she felt in her stomach as she weighed how much longer she could go without eating sent her across the living room rather than back up to her bedroom.
In the kitchen, she pulled out the eggs and dropped two slices of bread in the toaster before removing a pan from the cabinet. After cracking the eggs into it, she carried the pan over to the stove and came to a dead stop.
“Dumb, dumb.” She shook her head. Unlike at home, the cottage had an electric stove, so unless she managed to start a fire in the middle of the kitchen, she wouldn’t be cooking eggs or anything else this morning. But hey, it wasn’t like she’d starve or anything. She still had bread and plenty of peanut butter. She’d make herself a sandwich and keep her fingers crossed that by lunchtime, the stove and every other appliance in the cottage worked again.
Removing the bread from the toaster, she opened both the peanut butter and marshmallow fluff Mrs. Lambert purchased for her weeks ago but that she’d yet to touch. Thoughts of wrapping herself in a few more layers kept her from eating slowly and lingering in the kitchen. According to the thermostat on the wall, the inside temperature had dropped to fifty-nine already. Fifty-nine degrees might be fine for a nice brisk walk outside while bundled up, but when it referred to the temperature of her living room, it was another story.
I’m not going to freeze to death. She had several sweatshirts and blankets. She’d just head upstairs, add on another layer, and wrap herself in a blanket. And if she got really desperate, she could always go turn on her car and sit inside for a little while to warm up. Yep, having no heat or electricity wasn’t the end of the world. It was merely an inconvenience to deal with today.
Three hours later, she wished Holly had known someone with a cottage on a sparsely populated tropical island instead of a campground in northern New Hampshire. Either that, or that she’d been smart enough to get firewood delivered for the woodstove. Even with multiple layers of clothes on and wrapped in the comforter from her bed, she was cold. And the temperature wasn’t the worst of her problems either.
