Snowed In

A fire roared in the stone fireplace. The pantry was full. The old lamps were filled with scented lamp oil, ready for the power outage that must surely come with the blizzard bearing down on them. The weather forecast the night before predicted the storm would hit them, but she had carefully avoided telling him about it.

She watched the snow pile up on an outside sill. It was time to begin the inside snow job. If she couldn’t herd him toward their dream during this long weekend, then she feared for their marriage. Their high-tech, high-pressure jobs were stealing them away from each other.

She took a deep breath and began. “We shouldn’t have come, I guess.”

“You’re probably right, but I really wanted us to get away.” His voice came from behind her, surprising her. She instinctively leaned back, into him.

“Me, too.” She needed this long weekend as much as he did. Sometimes, she felt like a hamster on a wheel. Those days were coming more frequently, she'd noticed.

His hands were on her shoulders then his lips pressed against her hair. “We’d better bring in more wood before it gets worse.”

They put on coats and boots and stepped out the back door into the covered walkway to the adjoining woodshed.

He went inside first. “After two years it should be dried and prime for burning.”

“Are you sure it’s been only two years? It feels longer.”

She knew very well it had been two years since they’d come to their mountain cabin. She wanted him to realize it had been that long since they’d done anything alone together.

With careful planning, she’d managed to leave behind their cell phones and their laptops. They were distanced from their capable office staffs and at the mercy of the storm, right where she wanted them to be.

“Sorry about the phones,” she lied. “At least our offices know where we are.” She was surprised he hadn’t made more of a fuss.

“And they’ll know we’re still here when we don’t show up on Monday. They’ll call for help.”

“Snowed in.” She kept the glee from her voice. “I wonder how long it will take for a plow to get us out.”

The thought excited her, making her feel like a kid again. The work decisions were out of their hands. She was a willing victim of this storm, and she was pleased he had come around to that way of thinking so quickly. They had been given four glorious snow days, when snow days didn’t exist in the adult world.

They talked while they stacked the wood in an old wheelbarrow that would sit, covered, on the tiny back porch.  

“Do you remember the weekend we cut this wood?” He grinned and looked like he was ten years old again.

She felt her face flush. “How could I forget it? You won the bet.”

“And I still remember my prize.”

That made her blush more deeply. “I let you win, you know.”

“Right. You did.”

She had made a big kettle of soup that morning. It simmered on the electric stove in a pot that could be moved to the fireplace. The power cut out just as she dipped out two brimming bowls. They took everything on a tray to the floor in front of the fireplace.

Her words fell over each other in their eagerness to leave her mouth before she could stop them. “We were going to move up here, remember?”

He paused, a spoonful of soup halfway to his mouth. “We still could.”

“Really?” She was amazed at her calm voice. “We’re up to our necks with the businesses.”

“With a generator, we could keep computers up and running at times like this.”

Playing devil’s advocate, she asked, “What about all the face-to-face meetings we have?”

“We could Skype when we can’t get out, or do them via phone, or skip them altogether.” There was eagerness in his voice.

Oh, yes, she silently agreed. “And what would we be doing up here with computers and without meetings? You don’t think we’d be climbing the walls in six weeks?”

“We’d be too busy living our dreams, the ones that got away while we were being successful. We could still do our advertising copy but we could also design and maintain websites. It would be just us. And what about that little fiction magazine you always wanted to edit?”

She felt her eyes go wide with disbelief. He’d obviously thought this through. “What about the trappings of city life?”

“Town’s not that far when we want to see a show or shop or go to our favorite restaurant. We can sell the condo and the cars. We’ll get an SUV or a pickup, something with teeth. We’d have enough to update the place and set up here, plus a nest egg leftover.”

She felt tears of joy begin to flow. He somehow thrust aside their food and enclosed her in his arms.

“It was just a thought, love. I hoped this long weekend would be a good chance to talk about this, especially with the forecast.”

She pulled back to look at him. “You knew the forecast?”

He nodded. “Did you?” At her nod, he continued. “And you still wanted to come?”

“I wanted to talk about the same things this weekend. I worked so hard to leave the cell phones and laptops behind, so we couldn’t be interrupted.”

His slow grin did wonderful things to her knees. “There was no need. I took the batteries out of the cells. And I made sure the batteries were dead in our laptops. I wanted you completely to myself this weekend.”

She felt her mouth form an “O” of surprise. He kissed it. “Besides discussing the move, I wanted us to reconnect before we lose something wonderful.” He grinned. “So don’t you think we’d better get at it?”

She felt her own slow smile begin. “Whatever you say. Partner.”