Never Fear (50 page)

My wife shuffled from the bedroom, her
hair wild, her cheeks flushed with a good night’s sleep. My toes
were still cold from my night on the couch.

“
What’re you yelling
for?”

“
Trying to get the boys
up.”

She looked at the counter, her eyes
narrowing as she searched for something.

“
Really? No coffee maker?”
She turned and walked away.

“
I looked for one. Maybe
we could run into town and buy one. For tomorrow.”

She rolled her eyes. “We won’t be
coming back up here, Phillip. This place is dreary. It needs too
much work. It’s not the place of your childhood, anymore.” She
plopped into an arm chair.

“
No, it’s not.” I poured
the boiling water into the cup and watched as the tea stems swelled
and colored the water. “Not by a long shot.”

The boys were excited about the snow.
Pristine, crunchy-on-top snow that lay in deep drifts by the lake
and came up to their knees. They ran up and down each virgin area,
marveling at the deer and bird tracks which left tiny divots in the
snow.

“
Watch the branches,” I
said, as I ducked under yet another low-lying limb. They moved like
ninjas through the snow. By the time we reached the lake, I was
exhausted and sat on a fallen log as they scampered along the
beach.

“
Can we skate?” Alex
asked, tossing a pebble across the ice.

“
Maybe this afternoon. I’m
a little tired.”

Freddy came and stood before me. “You
always tired Daddy.”

I nodded. “I know, little man. I’m
sorry. Maybe after Daddy finds a coffee maker we can
skate.”

The edge of the shoreline amused them
nonetheless. They threw rocks onto the lake and tried to break up
the thin ice at the beach edge by pounding it with a branch. It
crackled and broke free like pieces of lace candy, fragile and
clear. The lake ice appeared pristine—not a skater’s track in
sight. After giving them free rein for a while, I herded them back
up the pathway toward the house.

“
Can we play outside?”
Alex asked.

“
As long as you keep your
hats and gloves on, yes. And stay right by the house.”

They cheered and slammed me with
mini-hugs. I left my boots on the porch and entered the house in
stockinged feet, tossing my jacket and gloves onto the kitchen
table. My wife had turned on the gas fireplace and curled up with a
book and a cup of tea. Her face was relaxed.

“
They’re staying outside a
bit longer.”

“
You told them to stay by
the house?” she asked, tenting her paperback.

“
Of course. They promised
to stay nearby. They’ll be fine. Do you want me to run into town
and get a coffee maker?”

She fingered her book. “Do they have a
Walmart?”

“
No.”

She picked up her book and began
reading again. “Do whatever you want. Just don’t spend a lot of
money.”

And just like that, I was
dismissed.

I drove along the road to town, the
music blaring, my palm keeping beat on the steering wheel. I knew
my marriage was a mess but I had no idea how to fix it. And I
didn’t want the boys to be the product of a broken home. Right now,
they noticed none of the tension. They were happy-go-lucky kids and
I wanted them to stay that way.

There was no Walmart, but there was a
small general store that specialized in carrying the types of
things that lakeside owners would need. And while there wasn’t a
selection of coffee makers, they had an adequate one for now. I
picked up a packet of filters and a bag of French roast to go along
with it. I walked through the store with my armful of possessions
and looked at the touristy items: flags, snow globes, bottle
openers and T-shirts. I selected a photo frame that looked halfway
decent and brought my selections to the counter.

“
Up for the holidays?” The
cashier smiled at me as she scanned and bagged each item. “You look
familiar. You own a place up here?”

“
Well, my parents’ place.
I just inherited it.”

“
Oh, which one is that?”
She wrapped the frame in brown paper and slid it into the paper
sack on the counter.

“
The Ellis
place.”

Her mouth opened just a little as if
she was going to say something, but she stopped herself. She looked
down at the cash register and told me the total. “I’d have thought
you’d want to sell it. You know, after. . .”

“
Nope,” I interrupted her.
“Still in the family.” I looked around the store with exaggerated
cheer. “Have any popcorn? I’m thinking the kids would love
that.”

She pointed out the aisle and I ambled
that way. My God, I thought as I grabbed two pans of Jiffy Pop from
the shelf. Would history never die?

Coming over the rise from town, I saw
a figure skating on the ice. A child, probably about nine or ten
years old, the same age as my kids. He was by himself. He raced up
and down the ice in dark jacket, a red cap on his head, playing
phantom hockey by himself. My brother and I had done that as
children. I lost him through the trees as I neared the cabin. I
wondered if the little boy was a visitor or lived here year round.
Maybe it was the boy my sons had met.

They scrambled down to the car while I
unloaded my packages.

“
Alex, carry this one,
would you?”

He peeked in and saw the aluminum pan
of Jiffy Pop. “What’s this, Dad?”

“
Popcorn. We’ll make it
tonight.”

They ran up the pathway to the house,
their boots churning up twigs and leaves as they ran. I closed the
trunk and walked over to the edge of the woods, looking down toward
the lake. The boy was no longer in sight.

My wife was holding the Jiffy Pop in
her hands when I entered the cabin.

“
I didn’t think they even
made this anymore.”

I shrugged. “Seemed like a good idea.
Since we have no TV, I thought it might be a fun thing to do
tonight.”

She didn’t respond and put the
packages on the counter. I handed her the coffee maker.

“
Did you get filters?” Her
tone was like ice. She clearly hadn’t expected me to
remember.

“
Filters and coffee,” I
said, and pulled the items from the bag with a flourish. She pursed
her lips, and with a slight roll of the eyes, turned and walked
away. There was no pleasing her.

“
We’re going back out,”
Freddy said. I looked down at his feet and realized they had left
their boots on and the snow was falling off in clumps, leaving
patches of mud and water in the living room.

“
Out, out,” I replied.
“Stay close. Lunch in an hour.” I grabbed some paper towels and
mopped up the mess. My wife had returned to the chair and sat
engrossed in her book. She hadn’t even noticed the mess.

At noon, I made grilled cheese
sandwiches and tomato soup for everyone. The boys came in pink and
glowing, excited about the fox they had seen in the woods and the
pinecones they had collected in abundance. Freddy showed me a
crooked branch that was completely dried out but had retained the
shape of a cane, including the handle part on top. He left it by
the front door, bark peeling off in wet, loamy sheets.

“
Our friend wants us to go
skating. Can we go?” Alex asked.

I shook my head. “Not today, guys. I
still haven’t unpacked. And you know what tomorrow is, don’t
you?”

They nodded eagerly. “Christmas Eve!”
they shouted with delight. My wife ignored the fuss and read her
book at the table, dipping her sandwich into the soup and eating in
silence.

“
Put your skates by the
door and we’ll go first thing in the morning.”

Christmas Eve dawned overcast and
gray, the clouds still threatening snow, but now with a wind that
scoured the snow from the lake and whipped the tree branches free
of snow.

“
Half an hour,” I told the
boys. “It’s very cold outside. I don’t want you getting frost
bite.”

They raced to the door bundled in
their winter gear and threw open the door.

“
Ew, Daddy, it
really
is
cold!”
Freddy shrieked. But he laughed as he took off down the hill toward
the lake followed by his brother. He was waving the crooked
stick/cane and screaming with total abandonment. Alex gave me a
look and followed after him. He was my reserved child. Curious, but
careful. Not one to take a dare. Like his namesake.

My wife was picking up the breakfast
dishes, her hair piled on top of her head, no makeup, looking like
the girl I had fallen in love with. She caught me looking at her
and turned away.

I took my phone from the charger. I
wanted to get a picture of the boys to put in the frame I had
purchased in town. My wife may make me miserable, but the boys
brought me total joy. They were the only happiness that I had
experienced in so many years. They reminded me of my childhood,
when things were innocent and carefree. Until my brother
died.

I shook the thought away.

I bundled up and headed down toward
the lake. In the distance, I could see the boys running along the
beach with another child in a dark jacket and red hat. The same boy
as yesterday. I was thrilled that they had found a friend. He was
about their size, but other than that, they were all too far away
to see clearly. I tried to take a photo with the phone but they
were mere pinpricks on the screen.

I brought the phone back inside,
fearful that the cold weather might ruin it. My wife was ensconced
in her chair, the same paperback spread over her knees. I dropped
the phone on the table.

“
I took a picture of the
boys,” I said.

She ignored me.

I went back outside.

In the distance, I could see the
clouds gathering on the horizon. It looked very dark, more like
rain than snow, but I wasn’t very used to the weather up here
anymore. It might simply be the tree line that made it look dark. I
looked for the boys and saw a flash of red in the woods. The other
boy’s hat.

From around the back of the house,
Alex and Freddy came running at full speed.

“
I lost my glove,” Freddy
said, holding up his hand, waxy and white.

“
Inside.” I grabbed his
hand and blew warm air on it. “C’mon. We’ll find the glove
later.”

We stumbled in together and I held his
little hand between my own to warm it. He was fine after a few
minutes.

“
It’s prickly,” he said.
My wife removed the boys’ outerwear and hung it on the chair backs
to dry.

“
The sensation is just
coming back to your fingers,” she said. She swept a blond curl from
Freddy’s forehead and kissed him. My heart ached. What had happened
to us? I looked down to the floor and closed my eyes.

We wrapped the boys’ Christmas gifts
late that night after hanging real stockings on the fireplace
screen. The Jiffy Pop had been a hit and we sat on the sofa eating
popcorn and telling Christmas stories until the boys nodded off to
sleep. I carried each of them upstairs to the bunk room and tucked
them in, kissing their warm noses and cheeks as they slept. By the
time I came back down, my wife had spread the wrapping paper on the
kitchen table along with scissors and tape. They were still of the
age for baseballs and board games, and we seemed to have a
ridiculous amount of things to wrap. By one o’clock, everything was
done and arranged around the fireplace screen.

“
I didn’t get you
anything,” my wife said. “You said you wanted that thing for your
bike.”

“
That’s fine. I’ll get it
when we get back. I need to order it off the internet anyway.” I
didn’t tell her that I had gotten her something: a pendant with two
diamonds to represent the boys. I would surprise her in the
morning. Maybe I could thaw that heart of hers a little.

I slept on the couch for the third
night in a row. By morning, the fire had been reduce to gray coals
and my feet were cold again. I stoked up the fire then tapped on
the bedroom door.

“
Come in,” my wife said. I
opened the door to find her holding my phone in her hand. She held
it to me. “Who’s this?” she asked.

She had the photo from the day before
on the screen.

“
I don’t know. Someone
they were playing with. You know, their friend.”

She put the phone on the nightstand.
“It looks kind of like… oh, nevermind.” She threw the covers off.
“Too bad you were so far away. It would have made a great
picture.”

We ate a hot breakfast of frozen
waffles with syrup before letting the boys tear into their pile of
gifts. The wrapping paper was tossed into the fireplace where it
erupted in a rainbow of colors much to their delight. They had been
given new ice skates and warm wool socks.

“
They are very sharp,” I
explained, showing them the snap-on blade protector. “And don’t
walk on the floor with blades unless these are on. You’ll see when
we get home. They pop on and off really easily.”