Summer In Winter

Summer never quite seemed like it did when you were imagining it curled up in your blankets every winter morning before school. It was always a little hotter, slightly too humid, just a touch more unbearable that you dreamed it up to be. Suddenly you find yourself wishing for the soothing warmth of a cup of tea against colder air versus a sticky popsicle that melted before you could even close the freezer or pay for it at the local stand. This memory of summers wishing for winter and winters dreaming of the sun’s warmth repeated over and over during his childhood made Clancy sigh with contentment at the sight of the kettle perched over the contained fire he had lit on the stove. It would be ready any minute now, whistling the tune of another book-reading session wrapped up in a pair of fuzzy pyjama pants and a cozy sweater. Wishing for summer was still a strong instinct these dark nights, even far away from his childhood city, but nowadays when it did come around and he could bask in the warmth of the bright sunlight without wanting to go inside for a jacket after five minutes, it didn’t feel the same as those summers spent laying in his bedroom with the fan on to full blast—that is, when his mom wan’t home to yell at him about the electric bill. No, those seemed far away and removed, definitely like they still had happened but in a distant haze that let him know they were never to be experienced by him again. Maybe to the kid and her parents that had moved in once Clancy went away for college and his mom moved out, seeing no need for two bedrooms when it was only herself and her two dogs. Maybe to the millions of other teenagers and maybe even the adults living in the city, but Clancy wasn’t there to experience anymore and knew he didn’t have any urgency to move back at all, even if his mom called every once in a while to brag about how much better city life had gotten; and besides, adults never seemed to have the same conversance with the coming-of-age problems the latest generation seemed to complain of.

No, summers nowadays are not as relaxed as they used to be but also not as boring. There were things to do, household problems to fix and money to keep track of, time to count down and necessities to drive out for. Relationships became much more complicated and doubled in necessity, and Clancy smiled at remembering how easy it used to be to make sure someone you disliked could be removed from your coterie and a new person would be introduced. Now, there were several factors when deciding to keep someone in any small part of his life and simply disliking them was usually not a valid reason to not anymore. Clancy didn’t resent this fact, necessarily; growing up he had learned the valuable lesson of keeping those who grate on your nerves and who view everything in the exact opposite light could do to keep your personality and opinions in check, though he did crave the innocent ability to throw some companionships to the wind and not care about the impending consequences.

Then there was the added complication of a romance in his life as well. As a kid and a teenager he never quite was interested in pursuing someone, something he later learned was just repression and had painfully learned to let go of, but even now in the later years of his twenties there were few options that interested him and keeping them engaged enough to be interested in him back was proving to be a difficult dance indeed. The balancing act of work and interpersonal life was something with which he struggled often but also allowed him to learn more about it more quickly in turn. He was more proficient with it now, he could at least say, having a partner to boast of and almost one year exactly in their pockets. Looking around, he caught his own eye in the many pictures pinned up to the walls and standing stoutly on the round tables seated at several points around his house, the lace runners and doilies underneath reminding him of the promise he made with them; lace veil and dress, white tuxedo. But that was years down the road and Clancy was more than content with where the two of them stood in their path at that moment.

The kettle’s scream ramped up in volume, catching his attention, and he started a little violently. Catching his breath at himself and setting a timer on his watch for his daily medication, noting the time of day was near, he eased his aching legs to a standing position and grabbed his cane, using the support as he walked over to the hot stove. The warmth caused his body to relax a little bit more, sinking into a comfort only brewing a cup of tea could bring this deep into winter. He grabbed the kettle and with a steady rhythm ambulated back to his seat, setting the metal down on a heat-pad and fixing some herbs into his cup in preparation to pour the boiling water over the multicolored leaves. The aroma that came from the steaming concoction delighted his sense of smell and satisfied his sight, making him settle down further into his chair and sigh with contentment. After a few minutes had passed, and he had almost dozed off, his watch timer rang out its timely tune. He started again, rubbing his wrist in search of the tiny off button, and clicked it when his fingers passed over the bump on the otherwise smooth, metal surface. A sigh to settle himself, and he was off, hobbling over to his bathroom and opening the medicine cabinet. The orange pill bottles brought his heart some relief and he knew he would be jumpy no longer after the tea mixed with the white pills in his stomach.

The doorbell rang and he smiled softly, preparing his fragile leg for the journey to the door. His Paul did say he would come to visit today, didn't he? The walk to the door was spent happy he would see his boyfriend again after a time spent apart. Oh, how could he have forgotten?

The smiling face behind the door did belong to a familiar man and Clancy did not hesitate to kiss the wrinkled cheek. The smile grew wider, and if Clancy’s could, too, it would have at the sight.

“You’re looking alright, Clance. Did you take your medicine while I was out?” He paused and smelled the air above their heads, then kissed his husband on the forehead. “Oh, did you make tea? Is there enough left for a second cup?”

Clancy nodded and opened the door wider, shuffling out of the way and chuckling lowly. “Of course is there is enough to spare. I can never drink a cup alone.”

Paul entered the house and shed his wooly jacket, hanging it up on the coatrack before setting the paper bags full of fresh groceries on the table. He took off his shoes and slid them into their place on the shelves next to the door, the doubled back into the dining room to take his seat next to Clancy’s.

“I did take my medicine,” Clancy answered his probably forgotten question. He remembered, and he could feel it working. The house and his brain both seemed less foggy, and the memories weren't the present any longer. He could see the wrinkles on Paul’s face matched the ones on his hands, now, and the years after his twenties returned as happy reminiscences and experiences of his farm life with Paul. Fifty years past, was it?

“Paul, what day is it?”

His husband finished pouring his water into a separate cup full of herbs, berries and honey and checked the newspaper in his hand more carefully. “Sunday, January 26th, 2025, dear. Do you remember?”

The fear in his eyes was not as hidden as Clancy knew Paul would have liked, He could see the worry that Clancy would soon forget everything, as they both know the dementia would take soon, but the happiness would remain unstolen and untouched in their pocket of sunny countryside. Nothing could take that away.

“Yes, darling. I remember. How’s the tea?”