Whatever cranks you lady. She came into the kitchen and stirred the pot. She found some herbs that I’d forgotten I actually had and added them to the pot. Herbes de Provence. The whole thing smelled pretty good. I was washing the potatoes in the sink. The power went out. ‘Fuck’ ‘Shit.’ We said together in the pitch black. Not surprising in an ice storm. ‘I’ll bet a line is down,’ I said. It had just gone dark outside. ‘Everything is out,’ I said to her. ‘We can flush the toilet once, but it won’t fill up again. There’s a second toilet on this floor. Turn the stove off.’ She did. ‘We’ve got no heat,’ I added. ‘Do you have a generator?’ ‘No. A fireplace but no firewood.’ ‘No firewood. What’s the point of a fireplace if you don’t have firewood?’ ‘Caitlyn, we’ve got a shop full of wood.’ ‘Oh yeah,’ she suddenly realized. So that’s what we did. We put our coats and boots on, grabbed a couple of flashlights and went out to the shop. We filled two small tarps with scrap cuts from the large. .. since..." She shuddered, "I shouldn't have said what I did," she said and dropped her gaze into the deep red wine. "No." she said. "That's over." Only her face showed the depth of her emotions."Hell, Helen, I'm sorry. Last time you mentioned it, it was almost a joke. Something happened, and you've been hurt."Helen got up from the table and walked to the wall of the balcony. She stood looking over the beach and sea for a moment or two. The trees in the campground were almost fully leafed out and there were a few early-season campers; a few nude bodies on the beach. She turned and walked back to the table, standing close against Sandy's bare leg."Move. I want to sit on your lap."Sandy shifted the chair, but then rose and pulled Helen toward the nearby lounge. They sat on the edge, and when Sandy lay back, Helen's head was on his shoulder as he put his arm around her. To her surprise, she was dripping tears down his bare chest. Somehow the cat had climbed up and cuddled amongst their.
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