Ice Storm

Ice Storm

By Rich Conti

The clatter of sleet against the windows made Paula shiver although her bedroom was warm and cozy. Her grandson Michael slept in his crib. The lights flickered and went out just after she settled into bed with a good book. She sat in the darkness and wondered what to do. Her phone rang a few moments later.

“Hi, Jane,” she said, grateful her friend was checking on her. “My power just went out.”

“We have a generator,” Jane said. “You should come over here.” Jane lived next door.

Paula put on heavy leggings and a bulky sweater. She bundled Michael in several blankets. He cried when Paula carried him through the front door. Jane’s husband Walt stared blankly at the TV. “Jane, the baby’s crying,” he called out. Walt’s rough voice made Michael cry even louder but Walt did not notice.

 “Bring him in here,” Jane said as she directed Paula to a little den. Walt remained in his TV torpor.

Paula laid Michael on the sofa. She stood up and then shivered. Jane smiled. “How about something to warm you up?” she asked. Paula nodded. Jane left and came back with a bottle of wine and two glasses. Paula watched Jane pour the wine, took her glass, and sipped.

 “Nice,” she complimented. Paula hoped Michael would fall back to sleep. They sat quietly. After a few sips of wine, she began to speak.

“Have you ever wondered why we’re here?” Paula asked. The question surprised Jane, but she did not reply. “I do, all the time,” Paula continued. Her voice soothed Michael and he stopped crying. “I mean- this little guy, why is he here? Why are you here…Why am I?” Her voice trailed off.

“I used to wonder why I was here,” Jane said pensively. “But I always told myself it was a meaningless question. As I’ve gotten older, it’s come back now and then.”

“Most people think the ‘purpose of life’ is some grand thing each of us is here to do,” Paula continued. Jane nodded and sipped her wine. “But what if it isn’t? What if you weren’t here for some impressive task like saving the world? What if you’re just here to take out the garbage, or change a tire, or because a friend needed you, or maybe just to smell the roses? How would you feel?”

“I’d feel relieved,” Jane said. Her answer startled Paula.

“Really? Why?”

“Because saving the world is so hard,” Jane replied. “I could do that other stuff you mentioned.” They sipped their wine. It warmed them up. They remained quietly lost in their thoughts.

“For a long time I thought I was here to do something special but I could never figure out what it was,” Paula continued. “Now that I’m older, I worry that I already did it but I still don’t know what it was. Isn’t that weird?” Jane knew her friend was not raising a philosophical issue but an emotional one.

“I think I do understand you, Paula. You’re not asking, ‘Why am I here?’ What you mean is, ‘Why do I have to suffer?’” Paula nodded dejectedly. They again fell silent. Then Jane asked, “Speaking of suffering… have you noticed how similar our lives are?”

“What do you mean?”

“You have a child to take care of,” Jane said. Paula’s daughter Kathleen moved in after she left her abusive husband. She brought her infant son Michael. Kathleen ran away a week later but left Michael behind. Paula became a mother again at forty. She tried to recall all the care and attention infants needed. Jane was helping her to cope.

“And I have what amounts to a child,” Jane continued. A disastrous car accident left Walt with amnesia. They had been a happy and passionate couple. Now he had only vague memories of his life before the crash. Jane was no longer his loving wife but just a woman who cared for him. Their son Ronnie was away at college and had no idea of his mother’s ordeal. Jane was a lonely fifty-year-old woman. “Meanwhile…,” she said, and then grew quiet.

“Meanwhile… what?” Paula encouraged Jane to say more.

“I feel sadder and lonelier every day,” Jane confessed. It was the first time she said it aloud.

“I do too… but I couldn’t say it until now.” Paula suddenly recognized how weighty her life was. She sighed.

“You’re the only person who listens to me, who understands me, the only person who cares about me,” Jane added, overcome by her despair. She was about to cry.

Paula smiled in sympathy. “It’s been tough for you, I know.” Jane immediately burst into tears. Paula hugged her. Jane cried softly as the freezing rain beat on the windows. She cried out all the anguish she endured since Walt’s disastrous accident. Paula patted Jane’s shoulders, touched her neck, and then stroked her earlobes. She gently drew Jane in and held her close. The wine had made Paula sleepy and she dozed off.

Jane stopped sobbing and realized Paula was asleep. She reached for a nearby blanket and pulled it around them. Paula woke up

“Let’s go upstairs where it’s warmer,” Jane whispered, “The baby can sleep on the lounge.”

“What about Walt?”

“He’s okay. He puts himself to bed every night.”

Jane got up slowly and then helped Paula to her feet. She picked up Michael without waking him and followed Jane upstairs. They entered Jane’s bedroom. Paula laid the baby on the lounge and blocked him with some pillows. They removed their outer clothing, crawled beneath the thick down comforter, and fell asleep.

Jane awoke several hours later. The freezing rain had stopped. The bedroom was quiet and peaceful. Paula lay on her left side breathing softly with her back to Jane. She liked feeling Paula’s presence. It reminded her of when she used to sleep beside Walt. She always felt a surge of joyfulness. Of all the places in the universe she could be, the only place she wanted to be was right next to her husband. She now felt that same sense of peace with Paula.

Jane reached out, felt Paula’s warmth, and touched the back of her neck gently. Her skin was soft and smooth. Jane quickly discovered she liked touching Paula. Then she realized how long it had been since anyone touched her and she wished Paula would awaken.

She moved her fingers to Paula’s hair. It felt silky and soft. Then she eased herself closer and put her arm around Paula who sighed in her sleep. Jane touched Paula’s breast through the cloth of her t-shirt. She immediately recalled how Walt used to fondle her; it seemed like it was a million years ago.

 Jane felt intensely alive. She moved her hand down to Paula’s belly that gently rose and fell as she breathed. She moved her hand further down, between Paula’s legs, rested it on Paula’s crotch, and fell back to sleep.

Dazzling sunshine woke Jane. Paula and the baby were gone. She dressed and went downstairs. Paula was at the kitchen sink. Jane came over and touched her back with the palm of her hand. Paula almost dropped the dish she was cleaning. She smiled, and then whispered, “That was nice last night. It felt good.”

“You felt me touching you?” Jane asked, astonished.

“Yes, but I didn’t want you to know. I thought you might stop.”

“So it was okay?”

“Well, if you had asked me I would have probably said no; but your touch awoke feelings I forgot I ever had. My mind might have said no but my body sure said yes.”

“You have lovely, smooth, warm skin,” Jane said, longingly.

“And you have a soft, gentle touch.”

“I was hoping you would wake up and respond. It wasn’t until then that I realized how long it’s been since anyone touched me like that. I really need it,” Jane said. She started to cry.

Paula soothed Jane. “It’s all right,” she whispered. 

“No… no it’s not,” Jane replied as she sobbed.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I could find a man just to have sex with, but I want something more. I guess I want to have dates.”

They fell into a long silence. Finally, Paula whispered, “So do I.” She paused wondering if she should go on. “I have an idea. We’ve gotten along great since the day we met. Now we know we have the same needs. Why don’t we date each other?”

Jane liked Paula’s suggestion immediately. “But how will we know what to do?” she asked.

“I’m sure we’ll figure it out,” Paula joked, happy that Jane agreed. “Let’s make a date. I’ll come over, cook a nice dinner, and then put Michael to bed. Then we’ll cuddle and see what happens.”

“Sound’s perfect!”

Paula smiled. “I have a feeling it will be.”