The mattress dips to the right of me and I resist the urge to crack open an eyelid, knowing that even if I do, the bedroom will still be enveloped in darkness. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that it is still well before the butt-crack of dawn. The sun will only emerge for a few short hours today, which makes me want to stay in bed until it graces the horizon with its presence.
Fraser's warm body slides into bed next to me and his soft lips begin dropping butterfly kisses up the length of my exposed arm. His bare foot warms itself on the back of my calf and my body involuntarily shivers at the extreme differences in temperature surrounding me. I try to burrow back into the cocoon of my covers, made up entirely of quilts handed down by Fraser's grandmother. My own mother threw one into the mix when she and dad visited last summer. Fraser keeps pressing his cold nose into my neck, which I'm telling you right now, is defeating his purpose if he wants me to come out and play. Wiggling around, I manage to evade the cold nose, effectively burying my head under the covers so he can't reach me.
"Ray…" he protests as the quilt cuts off his access to my neck.
"No," I say with more force behind my voice than I initially intend. "No sex for you until I can see the ground."
"It's winter, Ray," he whispers as he tugs at the blankets surrounding my head. He finds my ear and presses those hot lips against my lobe and I almost relent and come up for air, until that cold nose catches the tip of my ear. "It's going to be a long while before we see the ground again. I know what we can do to pass the time until the spring thaw."
"No," I protest again and effectively evade those warm lips seeking my neck. It's getting stuffy under the heavy quilts but I don't care. Winter in Canada with Fraser this year has almost killed my spirit and I have convinced myself and anyone within earshot that 'Old man winter' was really trying to kill me off.
The first winter up here was great. It was dark, no getting around that natural phenomenon, but the winter weather itself was really no different than what I had experienced growing up in Chicago. Fraser was convinced the world was coming to an end with the weather acting all bizarre and nothing like it was supposed to. I on the other hand thought, 'Hell ya… if this is all Canada has to throw at me, I'm surely going to make it here. No problems… this is greatness.' That was last year… this year… the damn weather returned to what Fraser happily agreed with the locals as 'normal'. I was okay the first three weeks. The snow was beautiful, pristine and brighter than anything I had ever seen. The air was crisp and fresh. Fraser and I spent a lot of time under the covers those first three weeks, when he wasn't on duty, of course, protecting all the fine citizens of the Great White North. We spent hours relearning the dips and hollows of each other's bodies, rediscovering the sweet spots that turned our partner into a writhing heap of lucid muscles.
There is a warm foot caressing my calf muscle and a soft whimper of pleasure escapes my lips. He covers my bare leg with his own, transferring body heat to my backside as he presses himself impossibly closer. I feel his naked chest settle against my back, a strong arm finds my waist, four curious fingers settle on my hip while a steady thumb slides slowly into the dip of my hip bone. His hand abandons my hip, gliding ever so smoothly over the sensitive skin of my outer thigh. I can feel his head settle into the pillow next to mine. His breathing is becoming quicker and beginning to lose its steady rhythm. Fraser wasn't playing fair.
"Ray," he hums my name in an attempt to coax me out from under all the heavy quilts. "Please… don't be unreasonable."
"You're weather is being unreasonable," I fire back, suddenly feeling like a four year old throwing a tantrum. "It's fucking brutal."
The weight behind me is gone in an instant and the bed dips as Fraser dislodges himself from my backside. He presses a kiss in the general vicinity of my quilt covered cheek. "I'll see what I can do about that. I need to get to work." I hear him pad slowly out of the bedroom. "Don't hide all day," he calls over his shoulder. There is rustling in the bathroom as he gets dressed and then again in the living room as he bundles into his layers preparing to face the inclimate weather beyond our wooden door.
With one of my hands, I peel back a layer of blankets so I can get some fresh air. The cabin is quiet. Diefenbaker must have caught wind of my foul mood and left with Fraser. Pulling the bulk of the quilt tightly around my neck to lock in the het left from Fraser's warm body, it doesn't take too terribly long before I'm falling back to sleep.
I don't hate winter… I hate not being able to see the ground. The ground never seemed all that important to me, until I couldn't see it anymore. Looking out over the horizon, the land itself just morphs into the white of the sky. The only color visible is the dark grey of the leafless trees, and in my book… that's not really a color. Each day that passes, each new foot of snow that falls, my spirit dies a little more. I'm afraid to tell Ben that I'm not sure I can hack it here in his Canadian wilderness. I'm not sure what that will do to his spirit, but I have a pretty solid idea that it will match my current state. After the newest snowfall covered the little tree we planted last spring, I knew that we were going to have to have a conversation soon. Before I lose it completely and jump onto a plane, heading back to where I can actually see the ground under my feet.
Sleep still has a strong hold of me, when I feel the bed dip again. Cracking an eye open, I glance at the clock and see that it is 2:36 in the afternoon. How in the world I slept the day away is beyond me. I must have really been out of sorts this morning.
"Ray," Fraser breathes into my ear. There is no cold nose this time against my skin. "Ray, I have something I need to show you. Will you get dressed and meet me on the back porch? It's a bit of an urgent matter." There is a sense of urgency in his voice as he calls my name again, not sure if I'm listening to him.
"I'm up," I call as a yawn escapes my lips. "I'll throw on some jeans and be out in two minutes."
Sitting up, I stretch then throw my legs over the side of the bed. I'm up out of bed and getting dressed as I wonder what it is Fraser needs to show me. The recent snow fall could have caused structural damage to the barn that will need fixed immediately. A groan leaves my lips before I can stop it, not in the mood to repair anything in the lousy weather. The scarf my mother knitted me is wrapped securely around my neck as I pull open the back door to the cabin. Taking three long strides, I meet Fraser at the edge of the steps.
"What's up?" I ask as I study his face.
A slow smile spreads across his lips. His gloved hand reaches out, taking hold of my elbow and he leads me down the steps into the snow.
Grumbling under my breath, I follow him step for step until he suddenly stops and I walk into his motionless back. "Sorry," I say as I draw my eyes up from the footsteps in the snow, locking onto his dark blue ones. He takes a step to the left and grins even wider. Ten feet further into our back yard, there was the ground. The grass wasn't green by any means, but it was there for me to touch and feel and walk upon.
"Ben…" and I don't know what else to say. He had to have spent the entire day digging out a small section of our backyard, just so I could see the ground. Two bright blue Adirondack chairs sit side by side in front of a blazing fire. Our little tree we planted has been rescued from the confines of the snow. His hand pulls at my elbow and he leads me over to the chairs. There is a thick quilt resting in one of the chairs and he picks it up, gesturing for me to sit down. I do and he claims the chair next to mine, pulling them closer together so we can share the blanket. It's still fucking cold, but the greatest sense of peace and tranquility, washes over my soul. Fraser knew what I was feeling, somehow reading my mind. I fell deeper in love with him as we sat in the frigid cold, bundled together under an old quilt, with the frozen grass beneath my feet. Sitting on the brightest blue chairs this side of the Canadian border; we let the fire warm our bodies and our spirits. Snow began to fall lightly as the flames of the fire leapt wildly towards the afternoon sky, breaking up the monotone colors of the landscape surrounding us.
I reach under the covers and slip off my glove. I find Fraser's gloved hand and remove his glove as well, lacing our frozen fingers together. "Thank you," I murmur into his cold lips before pressing our lips together in a slow and sensual kiss.
Every few weeks until the spring thaw, Fraser and I work together to clear a piece of snow covered ground. We place our bright blue chairs side by side directly in front of a blazing fire and get lost in what it means to have the ground directly beneath our feet. After that, we go inside and get cozy under all those quilts and I let Fraser warm his foot on the back of my calf and press his cold nose into my neck and I don't bury my head under the covers anymore.