stuck her head outside. Fresh, crisp air swirled around her. “Everett. Isn’t this amazing? A snowfall never forecasted. Don’t you just love things as unpredictable as the weather?”
Lark heard nothing from her telephone partner, so she looked back at Everett, who now wore a fixed and intent gaze. It reminded her of the glassy expression held by the stuffed, wild boar hanging in Skelly’s den. She’d thought an impromptu celebration of the snow with some frothy cocoa would be fun. But Everett didn’t appear to be in the mood for a festive beverage.
“Don’t you like snow?” She heard his raspy breathing and wondered if smoke would puff from his nostrils at any moment. Rarely did she make anyone angry. Usually people left her presence with a hug and a kind word. The moment felt unfamiliar, yet strangely exhilarating, as if she were plummeting on a roller coaster ride.
“I like snow,” Everett said. “In fact, I like a lot of things. But right now, I’m trying to work.”
“Well then, have a nice day.”
“Thank you,” Everett said. “The same to you.”
Was that a simper? He has a chink in his rock wall, Lark thought as she let a slow grin overtake her face. But then Everett dampened her optimism by parking himself down at his desk as immoveable and cold as a slab of granite. Oh well, hope still reigned. Even granite could be carved with the right tools.
Lark gave up on Everett for the time being as the snow claimed her attention. She had to be a part of it. She headed back downstairs, slipped on some moccasins and put on a coat over her long nightshirt. Once she’d flipped on the outdoor lights, she hurried out into her backyard.
The glorious white stuff fell more heavily now, floating all around her, engulfing her in a cocoon of softness. Suddenly she realized she’d never painted a winter scene. I should memorize this moment.
The pristine flurries had already lighted on the pines and decorated their boughs. And what a unique quiet. As if the snowy splendor commanded all the rest of nature to an awed silence.
The delicate feel of the flakes on her face reminded her of a feather tickling her cheek. Lark licked the melting snow from her lips. A gust caused the flakes to do a little tango. She raised her arms and danced with the flurries, dipping and swaying and singing. She knew God looked on, sharing her pleasure in His creation. An icy gust made her shiver, so she raced back inside, laughing the whole way up to her loft.
❧
Everett slammed his coffee mug down so hard a three-tiered bead of brown liquid rose in the air and then plopped back in his cup. Cold, bitter brew again. He made a mental note to throw out his coffee beans and buy some caffeine pills. His concoction always tasted like crude oil anyway.
He glanced over at Lark’s office window. Her light was off, so she still must be out of her office. At least she’d finally gotten the good sense to come in from the cold. He’d seen her from his window, and she’d been outside twirling with her arms stretched wide. She looked stark raving mad. Or maybe she’s simply childlike.
It reminded him of something he and his sister, Greta, had taken pleasure in when they were growing up. Sneaking out one night to play in the first snow of the winter. The moon had come out full that night, illuminated the snow, and made it glisten like stars. They’d pelted each other with snowballs. His sister had quite a hefty pitch as he recalled. Several times they’d doubled over laughing. He hadn’t thought of that moment in years. But then he remembered they’d both caught colds, and his sister had been forced to the hospital when her fever and cough spiraled into pneumonia. He knew scientifically that their sickness had not actually come from being out in the weather, but in his mind he always associated the two.
He drank a glass of water, trying to get the acid taste out of his mouth. His sister had always been fun loving, yet so irresponsible. She’d always managed to convince him to go along with her schemes. But some of her ideas for amusement were reckless. In the end, her foolish behavior had been the undoing of their family.
Everett cleared his throat and wished he could clear his thoughts as easily. Yes, there had always been a price to pay