“No, I grew up in Perth, but after my dad left, my mum moved us to a small town called Broxburn, about twelve miles outside the city.”
“How old were you when he left?” Nora asked as she positioned herself cross-legged on the couch next to him.
“I was almost nine. He was a right bastard, left us with nothing, and never looked back. We moved to Broxburn, where mum’s family was from after that, and lived with my grandparents for a few years until she got back on her feet.”
“God, I’m sorry. That couldn’t have been easy for either of you.”
“I was young and only remember bits and pieces of him, but my mum never got over it. Love can be a curse, especially if it’s only one-sided. That’s why it’s just me and my goldfish,” he said, looking down at the bottle in his hand and taking another sip.
“I get that. I kinda stay clear of all that relationship stuff as well,” Nora confessed to him.
“No bearded lumberjack back in Vermont then?” he asked.
“Ha! No, definitely not. It’s just me.”
Her words echoed back in her head, and they sounded lonelier than usual. They sat together on the couch, understanding each other in shared silence. Eventually, Alistair spoke up to ask if she skied. From that point on they got lost in the idle chit-chat that often followed serious conversations. Nearly an hour had passed before they noticed the temperature in the room had dropped and the light had dimmed due to the dying fire.
“I better put some more logs on,” Alistair said, standing and making his way over to the old stone fireplace. “You ever think about how much a fireplace like this has seen? All the lives it has helped keep warm and safe from the cold throughout the years?” He gingerly ran his fingers over the old wide field stones that made up its face.
As Nora watched him stoke the fire, a wave of longing swept over her. She wasn’t certain if it was that she hadn’t been alone with a man for this long in years, the influence of the alcohol, or perhaps a combination of the two. Whatever it was, the distractionhad her fully in its grip.
“Did you ever find any candles?” he asked, turning around to face her. He was cast in silhouette, the warm glow of the fire dancing around behind him. This did nothing for her wandering mind, and she had completely missed his question.
“Nora?” he said, breaking her out of her fanciful thoughts.
“Yeah?”
“Did you find any candles while I was walking Betty back?”
“Yes, a few,” Nora replied, rising from her seat and crossing the room to the counter by the sink where she had placed four candles and a box of matches. She set the candles on the kitchen island and lit them one by one. The shadows and candlelight waltzed around the room, moving with one another in an ancient dance, bringing back an old charm to the renovated space.
“Are you hungry?” Alistair asked, walking over to her in the kitchen.
“I could eat.”
“Do you know what’s in the fridge?” he asked before opening it.
“I think I just got the basics: milk, bread, cheese, a few veggies, that kinda stuff.”
“Well, let me see what I can whip up.”
“Anything is fine with me, as long as it soaks up a bit of this whisky,” she joked, but in all seriousness, she did need to sober up. She felt quite tipsy, and the alcohol had kicked her hormones into overdrive. She was worried she might do or say something she would later regret.
Alistair picked up a candle and quickly opened the fridge.
“The power’s been out for almost ten hours now, so we better eat some of this before it goes bad,” he said as he pulled out a few things, shutting the door with a swift motion. He set a large pieceof wrapped salmon on the counter, along with a tub of cream cheese and a small cucumber. Spinning around, he grabbed the bread off the counter behind him, along with a kitchen knife.
He unwrapped the fish, lit the stove, and buttered the bread, crisping it up in the pan that Nora had used for the grilled cheeses earlier. The smell of burning butter and yeast from the bread filled the air, causing Nora’s stomach to groan.
After toasting the bread, he assembled a sandwich generously layered with cream cheese, smoked salmon, and crisp cucumber slices—a culinary combination Nora had never encountered. She eyed it skeptically as he handed it to her.
“Aren’t you supposed to cook the fish first?” she asked.
“What? Don’t tell me you’ve never indulged in a smoked salmon and cucumber sandwich before?”
“Can’t say that I have. Not a huge fan of fish.”
“Okay, well, hold that thought because I am about to change your mind.”
