He holds my gaze. “I cannot tell you more.”
“Pff!” I turn back to the fire.
There’s a rustle from the back. “Still no reception,” he states. “You?”
I pull my phone out. “Same.”
I heave in gulps of warm air and wonder if Darrel and Jordan are still alive. Outside, the wind moans. Puffs of snow drift past the window. The storm is showing no signs of letting up.
“He’s indestructible,” Theodor repeats his earlier statement like a spell.
Which I suspect it is to him, on some level.
“If he doesn’t turn up or call,” he adds, “I’ll go looking for him at dawn.”
“I’ll go with you.”
What about Jordan?I itch to ask.
But I don’t. Even a dogged optimist like myself has a tough time imagining a scenario in which Jordan survived.
ELISE
We spend a few minutes in silence with me facing the stove that’s beginning to thaw my extremities and warm my cheeks. Theodor stands up and heads to the kitchen. I hear water running.
“I was afraid the water would be frozen in the pipes, given the temperature,” he says.
I watch him out of the corner of my eye.
He finds a tin cup, washes it, fills it with water, and drinks. “Tastes perfect. Want some?”
“Yes, please!”
He refills it.
I bound toward him, suddenly parched. He hands me the cup and I gulp it down. We fill it two more times each and drink. I open the lone cabinet, hoping to find tea. A box of twenty tea bags rests on the shelf and fills my heart with joy. But when I open it, there’s only one tea bag left inside.
“I’ll make a cup of tea, and we’ll share it,” I say to Theodor.
“That’s all right, you can drink it all.”
“We’re sharing it.”
Determined, I carry the full cup to the stove and set it on the hot surface. While the water is heating up, I slide my chair a little farther away from the fire. Theodor pulls his closer, and we meet somewhere in the middle of the room.
“It’s as close as I can get,” he says.
“Works for me.”
We sit down and check our phones again. Still no signal. The storm keeps raging outside, but here the air is getting warmer by the minute. I remove my coat and wrap my arms around my chest. Next to me, Theodor reclines in his chair, stretching out his long legs.
Goodness, he smells yummy!
For no reason at all, I recall the Venice carnival-themed party I went to a couple of years ago. Everyone was masked and supposedly horny. I’d been through an unfulfilling relationship, followed by a long dry spell, so I wasn’t averse to the idea of getting laid.
Except, the task turned out to be harder than I’d imagined. Most of the male guests turned me off on sight. Too old, too short, too fat, too thin, silly voice, dumb compliments, you name it. I did meet a few gorgeous, fun ladies, but I’m not into women.
In the end, I found only two well-proportioned and vocally pleasing male specimens. But after a closer acquaintance, I was repelled by their odor. I went home empty-handed.
