This Winter Night. Janice Sims

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      “I’ll be thirty-five in October,” he easily replied. “And you?”

      “I’ll be thirty next month.”

      “How do you feel about that?”

      “Same as I felt about twenty-nine—indifferent. I’m not afraid of getting old, I’m just afraid of not accomplishing what I want to in life.”

      “Which is?”

      “To be happy,” she simply said.

      “What would make you happy?”

      “To be successful at what I do,” she began. “To have a marriage that is as loving and lasting as my parents’ marriage or your parents’ marriage, for that matter.”

      “They did it,” Colton reasoned. “I don’t see why you can’t.”

      “The world has changed,” Lauren said. “What was important to our parents’ generation isn’t important to ours. Couples get married today knowing there’s an easy out. Couples from our parents’ generation actually did it believing they were in it for a lifetime.”

      “I don’t agree with that,” Colton countered. “I think young people want the same things. We just go about it differently.”

      “The odds are stacked against us,” Lauren said. “Fifty percent of marriages end in divorce.”

      “Is it that high?” Colton asked incredulously.

      “I’m probably quoting old statistics and it’s even higher by now,” Lauren said.

      “You’re seeing the world through newly divorced eyes,” Colton told her. “Give yourself a few months and you’ll see things differently. Now, let’s talk Christmas. You know in a matter of minutes, it’s going to be Christmas Day. What do you want for Christmas this year?”

      “I didn’t even bother to get the decorations out of the attic,” Lauren said. “I’m not in the Christmas mood this year.”

      “Humor me,” Colton insisted with a coaxing smile.

      “Peace on Earth, good will toward men?” Lauren ventured.

      “Okay, besides that.”

      “A warm, sexy man in my bed,” Lauren said, grinning at him.

      “I think Santa already gave you that, young lady,” Colton said and kissed her soundly.

      When they broke off their kiss, she asked him what he wanted for Christmas, “For a moment like this to last,” was his only reply.

      * * *

      The next morning Colton awakened before Lauren and took the opportunity to observe her while she slept. He could barely hear her breathing, she slept so deeply. She had braided her hair after they’d made love last night for the final time and now it fell in a single tress down her back. She slept on her side and was literally hugging her pillow. He smiled. She looked so young in repose, nowhere near thirty.

      He was still watching her when she opened her eyes and smiled at him. “Is it morning already?”

      The sun filtered through the sheers at the window. She squeezed her eyes shut against the glare. “Why didn’t I put up blackout curtains?”

      “You obviously like sunshine in the morning,” said Colton as he swung his legs off the bed and stood up. “I have electric shutters in my bedroom that block out everything.”

      “What are you, a vampire?” she teased.

      “If I were, you would be one by now, as well,” he told her.

      He got down on the floor and began doing push-ups without a stitch of clothing on. Lauren sat up in bed to watch. This was the strangest man she’d ever met. She stopped counting at a hundred.

      Climbing out of bed, she said, “I’m exhausted just looking at you. The general would love you. I bet he’s out jogging right now.”

      “I’d love to meet him,” Colton said.

      But she was gone. He heard the bathroom door close as he switched and began the sit-up portion of his morning regimen.

      Momentarily, he heard the sound of Lauren brushing her teeth. After a hundred and twenty sit-ups he got to his feet, gathered his clothing that he’d discarded in the heat of passion last night and went to the guest room to shower and dress.

      When he emerged a few minutes later, dressed and ready for his day, whatever it might bring, he heard music and followed the sound to the kitchen where Lauren was cracking eggs into a bowl. She looked up. “There you are. The electricity’s back on and the phone’s working again but according to Grandpa who knows the guy who drives the snowplow, the roads won’t be cleared up here until tomorrow morning. I’m sorry.”

      Before he said anything, he kissed her good-morning. “Why are you apologizing? You didn’t cause the storm.”

      “I thought you might be worried about your mom being alone at a time like this,” she said, concerned.

      For a few hours Colton had been able to allow his mind to rest from the constant assault of grief over his dad’s death. Lauren had given him that, and he was grateful to her. But now it all came rushing back. “My sister, Jade, and her family are home from Miami. They’re with her,” he said.

      “Oh, that’s good,” said Lauren. She turned back around and resumed cracking eggs. “Scrambled eggs and toast all right with you? I don’t have any breakfast meats. I’m not a big eater of bacon or sausage and I wasn’t expecting guests.”

      He smiled gently. “Why don’t you let me cook for you? You cooked for me last night.”

      She readily agreed and moved aside to let him take over. He did appear as if he knew his way around the kitchen. He effortlessly whisked the eggs in the bowl and then placed butter in the skillet. At just the right temperature, he added the eggs. He didn’t cook them too long, turning off the stove before they congealed, and when he put them on two separate plates they were of a fluffy consistency.

      “Where’d you learn that?” Lauren asked.

      “The Riley men are all competent in the kitchen,” he said. “Grandpa Riley was a chef at a restaurant in New Orleans before he got in his head to come to Raleigh and start a construction business.”

      “Cooking and building don’t seem to go together,” Lauren said as she put two slices of bread into the toaster.

      “They don’t,” Colton agreed. “That’s only a bit of Riley family trivia.”

      When the toast was ready, they sat down at the island where Lauren had already put two place settings. She poured orange juice in their glasses. “Coffee?” she asked with the carafe poised over his cup.

      “Yes, please,” Colton said, smiling at the domesticity of the scene. It was as if they did this all the time. He was very comfortable in her presence.

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