Page 4 of Out of the Cold

At himself.

But mostly at Len, who never should have invited her up here.

“You’re going to have company this winter after all,” Len had said when he called two weeks ago.

As if this were a piece of good news.

Len’s family had been gone since the middle of summer, and he’d become accustomed to having the property to himself. Had been counting on it, in fact.

“Are you coming up after all?” he asked.

“No, no. It doesn’t make sense, not with Suzy’s surgery next month. I’ve offered it to a friend who’s in between places and needs somewhere to stay for a bit.”

These phone calls with Len were always hard. As much as he liked the man, he barely spoke to anyone these days, in person or on the phone, and it took an effort to sound normal.

“When should I expect him?” he asked.

“It’s a her, as a matter of fact. Lucy Pond. She’ll be arriving on November fifth. I’d be grateful if you’d get the cabin ready, so it’s comfortable when she gets there.”

It wasn’t his place to ask questions. He worked for Len, after all, and lived for free in his cabin. Not that he couldn’t have paid for it, but that was the arrangement, and it was what he needed right now. Physical labor, peace and quiet.

“Sure, Len.”

“She’s a little fragile these days, but you’ll adore her. She’s as lovely as they come.”

That was already perfectly obvious, which was why the look of betrayal in those sad eyes, dark brown and tipped down at the corners, stayed with him.

Maybe he shouldn’t have suggested she wait to unpack, but he wasn’t wrong. What was Len thinking, giving her the place for the winter? She looked like a stiff wind would blow her over, and she’d practically fainted right in front of him.

Not that he exactly blamed her for having trouble with the altitude, but she had no idea what she was getting herself into. She’d never even experienced winter, for God’s sake. He was a caretaker for the property, not a babysitter.

His phone’s ringtone interrupted his churning thoughts.

Hardly anyone called him anymore. That’s what happened when you ignored everyone for months on end. But it was his sister, Natalie. He only hesitated for a second. Not since his worst days last year had he avoided her calls.

“Hey, Nat,” he answered, forcing some cheer into his voice.

“Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I hear you.”

He could also hear traffic, wind, and the occasional horn blast, which was deeply annoying. Natalie always called him from the car, because she was always in the car, driving around L.A. from one client’s house to another, redesigning their interiors.

“I’m calling in an official capacity. Mom wants to know if you’ll be coming for Thanksgiving.”

“Why isn’t she calling me herself?”

“I’m supposed to get a reading and report back. She thinks you never tell her anything.”

“What’s there to tell?”

“Gabe.”

He hated the sorrow in her voice whenever she stopped being relentlessly breezy. She’d been there for him from the moment Ricky died, offering to listen if he wanted to talk, even driving straight to Sacramento when he didn’t return her calls for a week. He’d come into Ricky’s life as a Big Brother and stayed in his life as family. But he couldn’t talk about it then, and he wasn’t about to start now.

He appreciated her checking in anyway. It was always good to hear her voice.

“I’m not sure about Thanksgiving. Maybe if it was only the four of us I’d come down, but I can’t deal with twenty people all asking how I’m doing.”

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