By Lucy's standards, it was near perfect weather. Even though it was still snowing, there was enough light to read. She curled up under a thick blanket on the couch in the living room with a new biography of Admiral Chester Nimitz written by one of her former colleagues. She had just gotten through the admiral's adolescent years when she was struck by how much his story reminded her of Wyatt: A Texas boy without a father essentially raised by a grandfather who fought in a terrible war. Boy wants to make something of himself and make his grandfather proud, so he works hard and joins the military. Oh, and boy speaks German. Change the names and time periods and you almost have an exact match. Yes, this was a little more than just a passing similarity. While she did find herself thinking of Wyatt a lot, this time it wasn't completely unjustified.
She wondered if he was still mad at her from this morning. Had it been anyone else, she would have chalked his response up to morning grouchiness, but Wyatt's reaction had made her feel terrible. She didn't think she had anything to apologize for but still felt she should for some reason. She was spiraling. She knew it. She was thinking about Wyatt far more than he ever thought of her, like a middle school mathlete with a crush on the high school star quarterback.
Just as she was pondering this, the object of her many thoughts came in with more firewood from the shed. Snow was sprinkled on his head and shoulders and caught in his eyelashes.
"It's still coming down hard out there," he said, cutting the silence with uneasy small talk. He still felt badly about over-reacting to her method of waking him up that morning and wanted to smooth everything over. He wished, not for the first time, that he could use the Lifeboat to go back and prevent himself from saying something thoughtless or looking stupid in front of Lucy. He wasn't generally a self-conscious person, but after nearly every personal interaction with Lucy, he found himself, replaying the events in his head and re-writing he dialogue and actions.
"Yeah," she said, "I feel like I'm in Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, an old musical about these seven brothers who…"
"I know that movie. It was one of my grandmother's favorites. She loved musicals."
Lucy quirked an eyebrow.
"What? Don't' look so surprised. I didn't watch all John Wayne and Clint Eastwood as a kid." Wyatt said with laughter in his voice.
Lucy smiled at him. "You continue to surprise me, Master Sergeant."
"I do my best, ma'am," he said smiling back.
Lucy watched him as he hung up his heavy winter coat on the coat rack near the front door, crossed the room to the fireplace, squatted down, and started strategically placing the new logs on the fire.
"It's going to be dark soon," he said, without turning around. "We are going to have to figure out dinner."
"Pauline is way ahead of you on that. She is in the kitchen conducting a cooking class on how to make Rufus's favorite chili recipe on the camp stove. Fortunately, she was planning on making it for him as a surprise so she and Kevin went to the grocery store for the ingredients before the storm even hit yesterday. Thank God for small favors. We shall not starve tonight."
Wyatt continued to stare at the fire and Lucy turned back to her book. She realized after about five minutes of reading, she hadn't absorbed anything. Starting back where she was when Wyatt had walked in, she found herself reading the same paragraph over and over. Her brain just wasn't engaged in the book anymore. Wyatt's presence in the room was too distracting.
He left the room but quickly came back and walked over to her, sat down on the far end of the couch, and handed her a beer.
"I moved all the alcohol out of the fridge and into the cooler this morning and packed it with snow. That way, they stay cold and we don't have to keep opening the fridge door and risk spoiling the rest of the food in there." He was trained to survive the elements. In this case, in a small cabin with the sun quickly going down threatening to leave them in complete darkness but for some candles and the fireplace, he knew they would have to survive boredom too. Keeping the alcohol flowing would help.
Lucy took a drink from the bottle, thankful he had grabbed her a wheat beer instead of one of the bitter IPAs he and Jiya preferred.
"So what now?" she asked.
"Now we stay warm, have a few drinks, have a few laughs, go to sleep, and hope tomorrow the roads are clear and/or the power is back on," he said.
"Well, Santé!" she said, tipping the top of the bottle towards him.
"Prost," he responded, tapping his bottle against hers.
They both tipped back their heads and took long sips from their drinks. The pregnant silence between them was just beginning to get awkward when Kevin came bounding into the room.
"Lady and gentleman, dinner is served!" he said as he bowed to them and flourished his hand around his head.
They all gathered around the small table once more, a few small candles and the dying sun providing the light. Kevin had set out bowls for everyone and Rufus placed the giant pot of chili in the center of the table. It smelled of tomatoes, browned meat, and spices. Everyone served themselves and began to dig in.
"Beans in chili?!" Wyatt said laughing. "Y'all need to learn how to make real chili."
"You mean Texas chili?" Pauline asked.
"No ma'am, I mean real chili. This is delicious and thank you for all the hard work and effort you put into making it in a kitchen that has no power. But ma'am, this isn't chili," he said with a grin on his face and a sparkle in his eyes.
"It's a good thing you are cute, Wyatt or you would be wearing this unauthentic chili right now," Pauline responded with equal mirth in her voice.
Conversation flowed around the table. Everyone talked about each of their favorite holiday traditions: what movies they watched, what meals they ate. Everyone, that was, except Lucy. She sat quietly, politely smiling at the right time, but never adding to the conversation. Jiya picked up on this and decided now was a good time to change the topic. She stood, her beer raised high, and said, "I'd like to propose a toast: to all of us gathered around this table. It's been a hell of a year and I can't imagine going through it without any of you. Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas" they all responded.
Then Wyatt raised his beer and stood. "This is the first Christmas I have celebrated in a long time. The last few years, it has just been me and a bottle of Glenlivet. Thank you for the good food" he winked at Pauline, "and the good company. To us!"
A chorus of "to us!" followed.
Lucy stood next. "In the last year, I lost my entire family, but I've gained another. You are all so dear to me. Thank you, Carlins, for including me in your Christmas celebration. Merry Christmas and may next year be better than the last."
"Here here," said Rufus.
As dinner wound down, they are cleared their plates. Lucy, volunteered to clean the kitchen and Wyatt stayed to help as everyone else drifted back into the living room. They stood side by side at the sink. She cleaned plates and he dried them.
"Hey listen," he said, " about this morning..."
Lucy interrupted in a string of words she could barely control, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled. It thought it would be funny but it was clearly not. It was rude and I shouldn't have done it. I'm so sorry."
He was silent for a few seconds. She was about to open her mouth to apologize once again when he said quietly, "No, Lucy. It wasn't you. Look, ever since Syria, I've had sleep issues. Most nights I have nightmares and I see the guys I left behind. Some nights I don't sleep at all. And on top of that, I've always been a light sleeper so I don't even know how I got so deep in sleep this morning. Maybe I feel safe here. Maybe, for the first time in a really really long time, I felt like I didn't need to worry about you because you were close by while I slept and there aren't any Nazis or notorious criminals in the next room. Whatever it was, it doesn't matter. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that and I'm really sorry." He never looked up while he spoke. He kept his gaze on the sink, too afraid to see judgment, or worse, pity, in her face.
She turned to him and grabbed his hands, forcing him to face her. "Oh Wyatt. I'm so sorry. I had no idea. I never would have…if I had known."
"No, don't be sorry. The last thing I want is for anyone to walk on eggshells around me. I'm telling you so you know it wasn't about you. It's my own demons. I hope it doesn't change the way you think about me too much." Tears were starting to well up in his eyes. He pulled his hands away so he could turn and leave the room before she noticed.
Too late. She reached for him, placing her hands on his cheeks and wiping away the tears with her thumbs. The blanket that had been hanging around her shoulders all day fell to the ground. "Thank you for trusting me with that. I can only guess how difficult it is to share that with someone."
He pulled her close and she laid her head on his shoulder.
After what felt like an eternity and no time at all, she pulled back. He assumed she wanted to end the embrace so he reluctantly let her go. But instead she gently and chastely placed her lips on his.
Tentative at first, he kissed her back, not sure if this was a friendly comforting gesture or something more. As the seconds ticked by and they continued to hold on to each other, it became more and more apparent that neither of them wanted to let go, afraid to break the spell.
A voice approached from the living room. "…I'll just grab the carton and few spoons. It's probably kinda melty at this point anyway. Oh! Hi guys!" Jiya walked in, noticing how quickly Lucy and Wyatt were moving apart from each other. "Sorry to interrupt the, err, dish cleaning. I'm just grabbing some ice cream. Please proceed with your, umm, activities. K, bye!" she exited quickly with a growing smirk on her face. Oh, she could not wait to tell Rufus that she had finally won their bet.
Lucy laughed self-consciously. "Well, umm, I guess we should get back in there," she said, suddenly fascinated with the floor she could barely see. She grabbed her blanket and started to walk out into the living room. Wyatt reached out and held onto her arm.
"No. Not this time," he said.
Lucy looked at him questioning, "This time?"
"Yeah, the last time you and I had a moment when I thought maybe something might progress between us, we were interrupted, we lost momentum, and you left. And that was months ago and I couldn't figure out how to get us back there. And here we are again. This time you kiss me, we get interrupted, and you want to run away again. Not this time," he said and he pulled her closer to him. "What was that - a kiss because you feel bad for me? I don't want your pity and I don't want to live in limbo. So unless you tell me not to, I'm going to kiss you and it will not be a sweet kiss. It is going to be the kiss of someone who has wanted you since 1937."
He looked into her brown eyes and her shocked face. She blinked but otherwise didn't move.
Slowly, as she felt her face flush, she spoke, "No objections from me." He closed the space between them in milliseconds. His mouth was on hers with a gentle fierceness, his tongue teasing her lips apart. Her hands went to the back of his head, running her fingers through his hair. His arms wrapped around her and he started walking her backwards until they hit a wall or a counter, he wasn't sure.
From the living room, Rufus heard something hit the kitchen floor and shatter. He got up to go see if they needed help, but Jiya caught his hand and pulled him back to the couch.
"Nothing to see in there. By the way, and not completely unrelated, I win. Star Trek movie marathon next weekend," she said with a twinkle in her eye.
"It is about time," he said, laughing.