Chapter three

Eggshells

The house felt empty.

Anna lay in her bed, the midmorning sun streaming through the narrow slits in the blinds. She couldn't say just how much sleep she'd gotten last night, but it had been at least enough to get her phone up to full charge. This was fortunate, because she'd grabbed it again as soon as her eyes had opened. It had proved an able distraction in the past, though the fresh tears on her pillow showed it wasn't perfect.

She could probably go on another hour like this. Elsa often woke up early, but she'd always returned to her room shortly after breakfast, busying herself with her computer. With her in there, Anna really didn't want to be alone in the house at large.

There was always something going on at the house in the morning – at least there used to be. Dad would be back from his early morning bike ride and reading the news, often expressing his opinions on it as well. Mom would be deep in whatever book she might be reading at the moment, but she'd always look up to talk to Anna if she was in the room, or sometimes spar with Dad on politics if she wasn't. It had almost gotten to be too much noise for her, in truth. Now…

She rolled over to look at the time. Already 10. The way she was feeling now, she could definitely make it to lunch. By then, she'd have the time to shower, dress, and put on a happy face. Maybe she could think of something to do with Elsa. Their old bikes were still in the garage, if she even remembered how to…

She sniffed. Something smelled good.

She stuck her head out from under the covers and sniffed again. It smelled like…eggs.

Elsa's cooking?

She threw off the covers and headed for the door.

Now this, I have to see.

By the time she reached the kitchen, the smell had fully convinced her stomach of just how hungry it really was. Her lethargy began to fade as she hurried down the stairs.

Elsa was standing at the stove, tending to a sizzling skillet. Next to her was an open egg carton, and a bag that looked to be the leftover taco meat she'd stowed in the freezer. She turned as she heard Anna come in. "Morning," she said warmly.

"Morning," Anna said. "You cook now?"

"On occasion," Elsa said. She tilted the skillet in her direction. "That look good for you?"

Anna looked inside. The smell alone was mouthwatering, and the scrambled eggs looked delicious to boot. "…Yeah," she said hungrily. "That looks amazing."

Elsa couldn't help but chuckle at her expression. "Don't sing my praises too much, I was going for an omelet. When you screw up an omelet, you make scrambled eggs."

Anna shrugged. "Same diff."

"Materially, I guess," Elsa said. She scraped the eggs off the pan and onto a plate, then grabbed the salt and pepper shakers. "Normally, I'd have green onions on here too," she said. "I'll have to run to Meijer to pick some up."

"Ooh, real hoity-toity," Anna remarked.

Elsa giggled. "It isn't that fancy," she said.

"Well, you don't know if you've noticed, Elsa, but I'm pretty basic when it comes to food," Anna said.

Elsa tilted her head towards a cupboard, which Anna knew was chock full of ramen and spaghetti noodles. "I mean, I wasn't gonna say anything…"

Anna laughed. "Well, you didn't have to."

Elsa set down the shakers and picked up the plate, passing it to Anna. "Give it a taste, tell me what you think."

Anna took the plate from her and, to Elsa's shock, picked up a piece of egg with her free hand and popped it right into her mouth. She chewed it, swallowed, and regarded Elsa. "Perfectly seasoned," she said. "As all eggs should be."

Elsa burst out laughing. It had been such a long time since Anna had heard that sweet, melodious laughter. She couldn't help but giggle herself.

"Well, good!" Elsa said. She sprayed down the pan and reached for the egg tray. "Don't wait for mine to be ready, eat it while it's hot."

"Can do!" Anna said enthusiastically. She set her plate on the table, then walked back towards Elsa.

Then stopped herself.

"Uh…" she said.

Elsa turned to her. "What is it?" she asked. "Is something wrong?"

"Well, no, but…" She wracked her brain, trying to think about how best to phrase her question.

Elsa quickly deduced at least a general idea of which direction the conversation was about to head. Anna could tell by the way her posture stiffened.

She really didn't want to broach the topic at all. They had been having such a nice talk so far, one unconcerned with…that one thing, or even…the other thing. On the other hand, they'd have to discuss it eventually. Maybe it was better to flatten out a peak than to deepen a trough.

"Well…I used to kiss you on the cheek sometimes," Anna began. "Do you remember that?"

Elsa nodded. "Oh, I remember, all right," she said. She turned back to the stove, but not before Anna saw her face turn red.

"Would it be okay if I did that again?" Anna asked cautiously.

Elsa gripped the countertop. She sighed. "If you knew how it made me feel," she said, "you wouldn't want to."

Anna swallowed. "I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't be," Elsa said. "You haven't done anything wrong." She looked into the empty pan. "It's a simple request. I wish I could fulfill it."

Anna walked toward her.

"But I'm- oh!" Elsa yelped as Anna hugged her from behind.

Anna gripped her tightly around the waist. "We can still do this, right?" she asked.

Elsa managed to turn her body around until she was looking Anna in the face. "Yes," she said. "As often as you like."

Anna squeezed her tightly, to indicate that this was an offer she very much intended to take her up on.

They spent much of the day on the couch, at a distance that Anna was sure was tightly calculated.

They were both under the same blanket, but separated by about a foot of space. Anna was on the right side, leaning against the armrest, while Elsa sat in the middle. Anna was only half watching the TV, the other half of her attention taken by her phone.

"Did you catch the Bengals game a couple days ago?" Anna asked.

Elsa shook her head. "I didn't keep up with them over in Cali. I'm guessing they lost."

"They've actually been doing pretty good this season," Anna defended. "But yes, they lost."

She hadn't kept up with all the games, but if Dad was home, they would always…dammit.

Quickly, she looked down at her phone, hoping to find something to detail her train of thought at the last minute, but it was too late. Already, she felt the gnawing realization that the game last week was going to be the last one she ever watched with her dad. And they had barely talked at all.

Anna started to fold in on herself. Even with TV, phone, and Elsa all vying for her attention, she couldn't keep her mind off of it. Of course she couldn't expect to fully strike it from her mind, but what else could she do? Just lie on the floor and sob all day? It was like a hole in the center of her being. The longer she thought about it, the deeper she fell into it. She was very, very afraid of what she might find at the bottom.

It was at this moment that Elsa slid closer to her. She wrapped her arms around her tightly, and when Anna looked at her, she looked right back into her eyes. Only now did Anna's eyes well up and she began to weep again, quietly this time.

She must've been paying very close attention to Anna's body language. This was the third time she'd gone in for a hug. Each time, Elsa had made her move just as the grief began to absorb her. Then, as her mood stabilized, she'd gradually moved back to her starting position. Anna couldn't always tell what her sister was thinking – well, obviously, but even beyond that one big thing – but she had a feeling that Elsa had calculated her exact position on that couch, down to the inch. That was just how she operated, always had been.

It was careful, it was methodical, and it was surely well-motivated. But Anna needed more.

The moment she felt Elsa shifting away from her, Anna hooked her arm firmly around Elsa's waist. Elsa looked at her, cheeks turning pink. Anna removed her arm, but fixed her eyes on Elsa's with a steadfast gaze.

Elsa made no further effort to move away again. Message received.

Having her so close to hand was a great comfort. The pain still tugged at her, but Elsa served as an anchor. A reminder that she hadn't lost everything.

Elsa had stiffened at her touch, but in time, she relaxed. Still, Anna was quite aware of the swirling storm of emotion that her sister was no doubt dealing with. She regretted that she'd have to put her through it, but she couldn't help it.

So far, she hadn't told any of her friends about what happened. There were a good few friends from high school she still kept in touch with – even Kris, though he'd long since left her life. In fact, they'd all left this small little town behind one way or another. There wasn't much reason to stay, and she probably should've left, too. She could easily call or text one of her friends and tell them what happened, but what could they really do for her? Tell her they felt sorry for her, and listen to her talk about it?

Well, she didn't want to talk about it. She'd gotten quite enough well-wishes at the funeral; she didn't intend to trouble her friends for a couple more. She just wanted to hold onto Elsa, and spend as much time as she could with her. There was no guarantee of how much time that would be, anyway. And her friends wouldn't really know what she was going through – Elsa did. There was nobody she wanted to be with right now other than Elsa.

They didn't get up from the couch until dinnertime. There were worse ways so spend a day, and she should know.