"Is that a promise?"
"It's a guarantee."
By evening, we've made a half-hearted dinner, a box of mac and cheese from the pantry, marshmallows roasted over the fire. The storm which had calmed down during the day to mere flurries has now picked up again. Justin turns on soft music on his laptop. I sit on the rug, hugging a pillow, watching the firelight trace gold across his face as he punches on his laptop. His brow is furrowed, and he looks decidedly irritated.
"You can take a snow day off from work,” I say. He reminds me of the teachers my nephews and nieces now have in school that instead of letting them have a fun snow day off, decide they must do virtual school work instead. Sometimes, taking a break from the normal day to day hustle and enjoying life is necessary.
He looks over. "What for?"
"To live a little."
"I'm living just fine."
"Debatable. From where I sit, fine is not the word I would use to describe your work-life balance."
He sets his mug down. "And you? Do you ever stop talking long enough to think before you speak?"
I grin. I’ve been accused many times in my life of talking before thinking. His tone is light, not offensive. "Touché."
The fire pops. Silence settles again, but it isn't empty. It's thick with all the words we haven't said yet. When I finally speak, my voice is quieter. "You're not really a Grinch, you know."
He raises a brow. "No?"
"You care. You just hide it behind… whatever that is." I wave vaguely toward him and his laptop which is surely open toa spreadsheet with dozens of tabs. "Control. Order. Expensive things. Golf trips."
For a second he says nothing. Then, softly: "Control keeps things from breaking."
The words hang there. I don't push. Instead, I shift closer to the fire, knees drawn up, feeling the heat on my skin. The air smells like pine, wood smoke, and him.
"Do you ever get tired of holding everything together?" I ask.
He doesn't answer, but his gaze lifts to my face, steady and searching. When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet. "Sometimes."
Something inside me loosens. We're both quiet for a long time, two people thawing in the same warmth.
My phone buzzes.
Emily: How's it going? Manifesting warmth and safety for you!
Me: Still snowed in. Still alive. Boss is less Grinch-like than advertised.
Madison: "Less Grinch-like" she says, like she's not already halfway to sitting on his lap
Me: I'm ignoring you.
Lily: That's a yes. Make sure he checks the naughty list twice. Pretty sure your name is on it.
Me: Me? Naughty? Never!
I turn my phone face-down.
Justin's gaze flicks to it, then back to me. "Your book club?"
"Yeah. They're… enthusiastic."
"About books."
"About everything."
