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Sunday, December 18, 2022
Keith sighed. “If I close my eyes, I can still feel his lips on mine, the snow falling on us. I can still see the lights.”
“The tree is just as beautiful this year,” Yuri told him.
“I know. I saw it going up.” Keith gestured to his bed. “That was before they brought me here.” He glanced at Yuri. “So you said you live in Stillwater?”
He nodded.
“Where did you go to school?”
“Stillwater Area High School.”
Keith gaped. “No way. That was my high school too, and Michael’s. There’d be no teachers left from when we were there.”
Yuri tilted his head to one side. “The word was that Mrs. Ellis had been there forever, so I took a peek in some old year books. She first appeared in the 1984 edition, but then her name was Miss Bantry.”
Keith stared at him. “That’s right. She taught Art. She was the one who encouraged me to become an architect.” He chuckled. “She said she couldn’t bear the thought of me as a starving artist, so I’d better make my talent pay.” He yawned.
Yuri was out of the chair in a heartbeat. “And that’s my cue to say goodnight.”
Damn it, he couldn’t stop yawning. “Will you stop by tomorrow night?”
Yuri smiled. “Of course.” He gave a mock glare. “But only if you get some sleep.”
Keith promptly closed his eyes. “Already getting there.”
He didn’t want to jeopardize his chances of another conversation. Yuri made the night seem more tolerable, somehow. Except maybe it was more than Yuri.
Maybe it was reliving the past.
Remembering Michael.
A More Personal Conversation
Sunday, December 18, 2022
The previous night might have been a restful one, but the morning had brought concerns. Anna had noticed an irregular heart rhythm, and she’d monitored it for about three hours. It had finally settled by the time Heidi arrived. Keith didn’t miss the whispers in the hallway. He figured Anna was telling Heidi the good news.
He didn’t want Heidi worried.
She came into the room, removing her hat and scarf. “It’s so cold out there. Another five inches of snow fell last night.”
He forced a smile. “I always loved a white Christmas.”
And there I go, already talking in the past tense.
He wasn’t dead yet. And there was one more Christmas to come.
Heidi sat in her chair, scraping its legs across the floor as she inched it closer to the bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Why are you asking? You already know the answer. Anna told you.”
She flinched. “Of course she did. I asked her to keep me in the loop.” Heidi settled against the chair’s padded back. “That’s okay, isn’t it? For me to know how you’re doing?”
“Of course it is.” He hated how prickly he was sometimes. He had no right to take it out on Heidi.
“I thought—we all thought—you’d gotten through this.”
