* * * *
It’s around eight in the evening when I get home from Toby’s High Life. Fresh snow falls from the heavens. It’s nothing sharp or chaotic; a fine snow with no accumulation. I park in the drive, find my way inside the Colonial, and unwrap layers of thick, winter clothes. Once inside I begin to settle into my evening. Pride and Prejudiceand a cup of coffee wait for me; the total comfort of a single man. It’s such a long novel, but exhilarating; one of my favorites.
The house is cold, so I turn up the heat. In doing so, punching numbers into the digital, Westinghouse thermometer, I hear someone sneeze upstairs, which scares the be-Jesus out of me. The sneeze is familiar, though: loud, echoing, masculine, disguised in a hearty cough. Fear evaporates and a selfish smile covers my face. I don’t know why I call up the stairs, “Darsey, what are you doing here?”
“Come up and find out!”
“You shouldn’t be here!”
“Too late for that! Just get up here!”