Page 62 of Just Say When

“He used his phone. Can you believe that?” I asked, coming to stand next to her.

She stared down at the photo a moment longer before placing it back on the mantle. “He did a great job. I had no idea.” Her voice sounded odd. Subdued. She gestured to the line of mismatched frames. “It looks nice. Like something a real couple would do.”

Aha. There it was.

I wondered how she hadn’t figured it out yet. Essie wasn’t stupid. My guess was that she simply didn’t want to know. That hurt, but not nearly as much as it would if she said those words out loud.

“That’s the idea,” I said. “If anyone comes over, we should look like a happily married couple, right?”

“Who’s going to come over?” she challenged with a lift of her eyebrow. “I think they might notice I’m sleeping in the guestroom.”

“You can invite friends over, you know. You should, actually. This is your home, too.” When she blinked surprised eyes at me, I smiled. “Anyway, you don’t have to sleep in the guestroom. Feel free to come join me in mine. Nude.”

She laughed. “Maybe I will. Should I bring this picture you stole from my bedroom? Don’t think I didn’t notice.” She gave me a sardonic look. “We can hang it on the wall right across from the bed. Make Jack watch us?—”

A loud pop cut her off and we were plunged into sudden darkness. Essie yelped and groped blindly for me. I grabbed her hand and directed it to the mantel, letting it ground her until her eyes adjusted.

“Stay here. I’ll grab the flashlights.”

Power outages during storms were common enough that I kept a handful of flashlights and a stockpile of batteries in a kitchen drawer. Since I knew the layout of my home like the back of my hand, the lack of light didn’t slow me down. I grabbed two, flicked them both on to make sure the batteries weren’t dead, and I was back by her side in less than two minutes.

“Here you go.” I handed her one and kept the other for myself. “I’m going to take a quick look outside and see what happened.”

She nodded. “Be careful,” she said, like a reflex.

I liked it. Three months ago, she would have suggested I drop dead instead.

It was dusk when I opened the door and stepped outside. The snow was already a couple inches deep and more came down in thick, fluffy flakes. Every house on the street was dark. A few other people were out,checking things same as I was, and we waved to each other.

I grabbed an armful of firewood and went back inside. “The whole street is out. Probably a power line down. It could be a while before the power company sends someone to fix it.” I kicked the snow from my shoes.

Essie nodded. “They’ll want to wait until after the storm. I guess we’ll just have to eat all the ice cream before it melts.”

I laughed. “Or we could stick it outside.”

Essie feigned a shocked gasp.

“All right,” I said. “We’ll eat the ice cream.”

“It’s what Mom, Jack, and I always did. Eat the perishables and play cards in front of a fire. Sometimes we’d paint each other’s nails if we got really desperate.”

“Jack, too?” I asked, even though I suspected I knew the answer. Jack wasn’t the kind of man who thought nail polish was a threat to his masculinity.

“Jack, too,” Essie confirmed. “He was partial to blue. Like, the shade of cotton candy.”

I could see that.

“I’ll get the cards,” I said. “You get the ice cream.”

“Really?”

“Sure. What else are we going to do?” I loosened my tie. “I’ll get a fire going and then I’ll change out of my work clothes. With the power out, it’s going to get chilly in here soon.”

“I’ll take care of the fire,” Essie said. “Go ahead and change.”

I took a quick, lukewarm shower and changed into a pair of gray sweatpants, a navy hoodie, and thick wool socks. When I returned, the fire was crackling and the living room was cast in a warm, golden glow. On the coffee table was a tray of hummus, cucumbers, and carrots. I could hear Essie humming in the kitchen.

“Ready?” she asked, glancing up from the bottle of wine she was opening. Her gaze traveled down my gray sweatpants and she licked her lips.

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