#11.4.2014

“This is my favorite room.” My hands were tucked into my sweater sleeves and I trailed the thick, black knitting through the dust that had settled onto the shelves that lined the room.

“In the house?” Cole stayed in the doorway, tracking my every move without turning his head.

            “In the world.” I answered, choking on the words as they stuck in my throat.

            “Ema,” he stepped into the room, his dress shoes squeaking with newness.

            “I’m okay.” I turned back to the shelves. Cookbooks were stacked on top of each other next to a box set of Janet Evanovich novels next to half a dozen board books that hadn’t been touched since Kora was learning to read. The whole room was like this, a librarian’s worst nightmare. I was taking in a big breath, getting ready to blow the cobwebs out of the corners of the shelf when Cole spoke.

            “Whoa.” He was standing at the window at the end of the room, his arms crossed in front of him and his elbows hugged in tight. “This is some view.”

            I silently blew out the air I had been storing in my cheeks before I joined him. The farm stretched out behind the house, sloping down to the trees that lined the creek. It looked like a scene from a black and white movie, the snow coating everything in muted, melting white. The barn sat off to the left, graying like my father’s hair and caving in like my mother. Parts of the roof were missing and I could see what was left of the tractor that had been parked there longer than I had been alive.

            “I forget that winter can look like this.” Cole reached out, dragging his finger down the frosted glass and shivering. “It’s always angles and shining silver in the city. The snow almost feels mechanical there. This, this is how it should be.”

            “Yeah,” I sunk into the recliner that faced the window, dragging the quilt that was draped across the back with me. I tugged it around my shoulder, hoping the stitching was strong enough to hold me together. I closed my eyes.

            “Ema,” Cole was crouched in front of me, his hands on the arm rests on either side of me.

            “I’m okay.” The words fell out before I could stop them, but they were coated in sleep and hovered in the air a second too long.

            “You’ve been asleep for a while, but I really need to head back. I didn’t know if you wanted to ride back to Fargo with me.”

            I looked past him, back out the window. The sun was going down and everything was stretching shadows in the dying light. I blinked and felt the tears tumble through my eyelashes.

            “I’m okay.”

            Cole stood up, taking my hand and pulling me up, too. He put his arms around me and this time I leaned into him, instead of away. But I kept muttering.