Page 41 of Wintering with George

All eyes turned to Geri and Freki, who were spread out in front of the fire, sleeping. Bubs was right there with them, stretched out nearest the wood-burning heat source.

“You guys don’t know how to winter.”

There was silence for a moment.

“I’m not trying to tell you your business,” Toby began, “but winter isn’t a verb.”

“No?”

He shook his head. “It’s a noun.”

“It’s not, though. You all need to stop and enjoy the season. It’s for resting.”

Thomasin scoffed. “Winter is not for resting.”

“Why not?”

“Why not?” She sounded horrified. “George, there is Christmas, and then New Year’s, and there’s so much to do for both, and then cleaning and organizing and⁠—”

“Winter is a slow time,” I told her. “Your brain needs to take a break, eat, sleep, do nothing but veg. That’s what wintering is. It’s what Kurt said the other day.”

“I…no.” She shook her head.

“Yes,” I insisted. “And maybe not last year, and maybe not next year, but this year, you’re gonna winter with me.”

“No.”

It was my turn to scoff. “What else are you gonna do?”

She thought a moment.

“Wait,” Brad said, and I noticed then that while he was a big man, six feet four, with broad shoulders and a wide chest, he was a soft man. And by soft I meant he had the hands of a man who worked inside, with a computer. He had kind eyes and a quick smile and a flannel-and-jeans way about him. He didn’t seem the kind to raise his voice, or a hand, to anyone. I could see why Thomasin had been attracted to him after having a horror show of a father. He was as different as a man could be.

All the men I called friends were not soft in any way. They were hard-muscled, hard-eyed, and had sharp tongues and carried sharp weapons. I myself was not soft in any way except one, and that was in my desire to winter, which required pillows and blankets, things that promoted rest.

“We can’t just do nothing,” Brad informed me.

I grinned at him.

“But that’s just…crazy.”

“We’re gonna watch movies,” I told him. “And play games.”

“Games? What kind of games?”

“We’re gonna start with Mario Kart and other nonviolent, family-friendly games. I see charades in our future, and trivia.”

“I thought you didn’t like trivia because you didn’t wanna wear a bowling shirt?” Dennis asked me.

“I think you only got a piece of that conversation, buddy.”

“Maybe,” he agreed.

“And Monopoly,” I told Kurt.

“No, I hate Monopoly.”

I shrugged.