Chapter 3

Dr. Paul Jarecki had spent a long time desperately trying to light a kerosene heater in the barn, but even if it did successfully light, the chances of it keeping him warm were slim because he had only a few ounces of kerosene remaining. Paul had planned on driving to Morton’s Corners to get kerosene, but he had gotten involved with the patient records stacked up by his couch. He went up to the hayloft and buried himself with hay, but that didn’t keep himself very warm. Paul even tried finding a comfortable position in the heated chicken coop and try to absorb some of their warmth, but the smell got to him quickly.

He found a couple of old blankets and wrapped himself with it and lay back in the hay wagon. At least the babies are safe, he thought. Then, with a prayer of thanksgiving, he closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep. He had almost drifted off when a jingling “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” broke his slumber, it was his phone ringing with an unfamiliar number, the partial ID gave the location of Denver CO. With shivering hands, he picked up his ringing phone, it was Andi.

The tiny doctor stood in a dark but warm cabin, nervously trying to come up with a proper apology for kicking a man out of his own cabin at the height of a storm. The cabin smelled of wood, smoke, evergreens, and rich beef stew, heady masculine smells that were getting to Andi. “Doctor Jarecki, we ... I may have acted hastily, I should be thankful, but when it comes to my girls...” Andi sniffed the air. The scent of the hanging herbs and evergreen boughs and beef stew was overwhelming. “Please come here, maybe we could talk about what we are going to do over dinner.”

It seemed to Paul that it took an hour to make it from the barn to the cabin. The wind had really picked up, and the snow was so heavy he could barely see and he walked the long yards on autopilot. When finally making it to the door, he paused. He was freezing, his body shook from tremors. Paul realized he didn’t dress warm enough when he rushed out to help whomever the Concord township police could not reach. He finally opened the door and walked into his cabin. He could almost taste the fear that overwhelmed the small woman inside.

With trembling hands, he removed his jacket. He heard a tiny, shuddering voice in the darkness. “Doctor Jarecki? I’m Doctor Adrianna Roberts.” In the gloom of the cabin, he saw her and saw the fear on her face, and he also saw the tiny faces peering out from behind her.

The light switches Andi couldn’t find were behind jackets hanging from pegs near the door. Paul flipped a switch, and the cabin became illuminated by over a dozen electric candles that gently flickered, making the cabin look even more cozy. A small Christmas tree in the back corner lit up, illuminating a small library.

“This is so cool!” squealed the twins in unison as they resumed their exploration. They suddenly stopped short as they grew near the wood stove. A large brown object laying near the stove slowly came to life. With a whine, it unfolded, stretched, and rose from the floor.

“That’s my buddy Wonka, he’s the worst guard dog on earth.”

“Wonka?” asked the girls as the chocolate lab, bleary-eyed from his nap, sniffed them, made a quick decision of approval, and wagged his tail. The twins never had a dog in their lives, but they got over any trepidation in a microsecond and began petting and hugging the dog, whose tail wagged faster with every coo and hug. Dr. Jarecki introduced his dog as “Not only the world’s worst watch dog, but the sweetest friend a man could have.”

Seeing that the dog was tolerating the attention, Andi let the girls fawn and dote over the overjoyed Wonka. The twins resumed their exploration, and it was then that Andi noticed the twins were clearly looking for something important as Wonka followed them in their search.

“What are you two looking for?” Andi gently demanded.

“The bathroom,” said Sandy.

“If he doesn’t have one,” continued Madeline, “then he’s probably...”

“A zombie!” the girls said together, eyes wide.

“A zombie?” asked Andi incredulously.

“Everyone knows zombies don’t poop!” intoned Sandy with all the authority a five-year-old can muster.

“Dixie’s brother Melvin told us so at day care, it’s true,” added Madeline, whom Andi thought was much too involved with Dixie’s brother Melvin.

“I hate to tell you this,” intoned Andi, “but this is a cabin way out in the country. The bathroom is probably outside.”

The twins stared at their mother in wide-eyed shock and horror at the thought of a toilet sitting outdoors where everyone could watch them. Paul smiled, seeing the shocked looks on the girls’ faces. He pulled off his boots then strode over to the stove where he set his boots to warm and hung his scarf and cap on a hook over the stove to dry and gave Wonka a pat on the head.

“I think Dixie’s brother Melvin is right about zombies,” said Doctor Jarecki. “Gastroenterologists all over the world complain about postmortem constipation in their zombie patients.”

“See?” Sandy struck a defiant pose as she glared at her mother.

“I still gotta go potty and it’s cold outside,” wailed Madeline.

The whole time Paul passed Adrianna’s name over and over in his head, her face is familiar but tonight he’s only seen her scowl, which is not a good look for her, but ... His mind clicked, it was in Minneapolis when he met a young doctor, flush with the joy of carrying not one but two tiny lives in her womb, the hair is different, but this has to be the same woman.

Dr. Jarecki stood over a foot and a half taller than Andi, with broad shoulders and hands that looked more like a mechanic than a cardiologist. He appeared to be maybe 50, maybe older? Andi was immediately taken with his good looks that were edged by years of concern mixed with the love of the outdoors. Most importantly, he did not appear to be threatening. Andi had a lot of experience with threatening and was always on the outlook. “We were discussing the potential of using external plumbing,” answered Andi.

“There is that potential, and those facilities exist, but if you’re not the adventurous type, I suggest using the indoor facilities.” Paul then turned so Andi could see his face better. “It’s good to see you again Doctor Roberts, although the weather isn’t much better than at our last meeting.”

Andi smiled, and her tense shoulders sagged in relief. Now that she could see his face, she recognized him more fully, but he looked so much younger back then. It’s the beard. He didn’t have a beard back then. She ignored the internal voice but still remembered his smile and those blue eyes during the brief conversation they had had so long ago. She told him she was pregnant with the twins at the time, and he seemed delighted. “Oh yeah, it was what – thirty below?” He’s got a nice smile, the voice in her head pointed out.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” smiled Paul. “We seem to influence the weather. Anyhow, this is it. I built this “garden barn” a few years ago when I bought this land. Not much has changed except this area over here is now an office away from office, it used to be a camp style kitchen. A few years back I got tired of going outside to use the facilities and tired of cooking over a Coleman stove, so I built the second garden barn and added all the modern conveniences including a modern-ish septic system.” He let them through the walkway into the other cabin, which contained a modern kitchen, laundry, toilet, shower, and sauna. As Madeline shut herself in the water closet, Paul explained, “The shower is navy style: pull the chain to wet down, then let go, lather up, then pull it again to rinse off.”

“That’s weird,” commented Sandy.

“Once upon a time I used to have to haul water up here by truck, then pump it into storage drums,” explained Paul, “so I set the shower up like that to save water. Now I have a freshwater spring that fills an underground cistern, but it takes a long time to refill the cistern, so we still take Navy showers.”

“What’s a cistern?” asked Madeline as she exited the water closet and Sandy took her place. Paul realized he had to start the explanation all over again.

As they stepped back into the kitchen area, Paul called out, “Who wants to eat?”

The twin’s eyes grew large as dinner plates. They had been traveling all day and had only grabbed snacks on the go, as Andi expected a large meal when they reached their room. “I do! I do!” they both shouted. Collecting bowls, glasses, and utensils, they all trooped back to the first cabin. Paul spread the wings on the small dining table to make room for guests and set out the bowls and spoons, then carried the iron pot from the wood stove to the table, opened the lid and the smell of beef stew filled the room and overwhelmed their senses.

“That smells incredible!” gasped Andi as she leaned over the pot and took a deep whiff of the savory broth. When she looked up, she saw that Paul had gone back to the “modern” cabin and brought back a loaf of fresh baked bread and a carafe of ice-cold spring water to the table. “It’s like you were expecting us,” she smiled.

“To be honest, I was expecting this storm,” he said. “I love watching a snowstorm when I know I’m going to be safe and warm. I had planned to sit by the fire and read and listen to Christmas music. Also, I have elderly neighbors east and west of us that might need help, I can reach them with a tractor or a sled. So, I cooked this stew up to have leftovers to eat throughout the weekend. Stew is an old tradition with my family; a big pot of stew to last us through the days that we’re shut in or when the paychecks are far apart.”

“I hate to ruin your planned menu for the week, but this smells delicious!” said Andi as Paul handed out steaming bowls of the stew. He then took the loaf of bread, tore it in half and said grace, after which he handed out warm pieces of the bread to the Roberts girls. “That makes this communion too,” said Andi.

Paul just smiled and nodded and set out butter for the bread, if anyone would like it. The table was butted up with one end against the windows facing out on the front patio; the twins sat side by side facing the windows while Andi and Paul sat at opposite sides facing each other. The sound of spoons clanking on bowl filled the cabin and drown out Wonka’s snoring while outside the Christmas lights strung on the patio roof illuminated the falling snow. In the background, a seasonal piano adagio was played on an unseen stereo.

At first, the twins eyed their bread suspiciously. It looked odd compared to the bread they are used to. Each slice was so thick, and the crust was so crunchy. Andi buttered their slices, and finally Madeline took a bite. Her eyes rolled in pleasure and she said something to Sandy that Paul didn’t understand, but it may have been encouragement, because Sandy took a bite, and her reaction was similar to Madeline’s. “It’s so good!” she cried.

Madeline nodded. “It has a flavor,” she said around a mouthful.

“Bread don’t have a flavor,” said Sandy in a very matter of fact tone of voice, “it just holds the peanut butter.”

“But this is good!” squeaked Madeline. “Mommy, can you get this bread?”

Andi sputtered and looked for the right words to answer when Paul said, “I make this bread myself, I made it this morning.”

Sandy was incredulous. “You can make bread?”

“Yes, it’s easy. I have a machine to help me. Would you like to help make bread tomorrow?” and Paul added quickly, “if it’s ok with your mother.”

“Can we momma? Can we? Can we?” begged the twins in a well-rehearsed chorus.

Andi sighed. She was still distrustful of a man that, for all intents and purposes, they just met. “Only if you eat all of your dinner, and I’ll be there to make sure you don’t make Dr. Jarecki crazy.” Paul knew she added that last statement was not to be protective of Paul, but to protect her girls from Paul, if needed. A sentiment that Paul understood and admired.

“Done deal,” said Paul. “The last one to the bottom of their bowl helps me do dishes.”

With that, the twins tore into their stew with gusto. The famished family ate their fill while they watched the snow accumulate. Finally, as the twins mopped their bowls clean with bits of bread, Andi asked, “So what are the sleeping arrangements?”

“The loft upstairs is a ‘bunkhouse’ of sorts and it’s all yours, as long as you’re here and as long as you want,” Paul told Andi. “There’s a full bed and four cots and several empty dressers and lockers for your stuff, and there’s dividing curtains if you want a little privacy. My clothes are in a closet up there, but I’ll grab what I need and bring it down here.”

“Where are you going to sleep?” asked Andi. “I’ve already kicked you out of your own home, I don’t want to kick a man out of his own bed but thank you very much for the offer.”

“It’s not a bother. I’ll sleep on the couch, it opens to a full bed if I want to do that, and it’s where I always sleep on wintry nights so I can keep an eye on the fire and make sure it’s burning through the night. Believe me, you’ll be toasty warm up there.”

“Do you live here?” asked Madeline as she gazed at the dried herbs and other objects hanging from the beams.

“Kind of. I have a place in town. It’s a nice house but it isn’t much fun when you’re alone, I use it to entertain friends and clients, but I spend what feels like most of my off time here. Feel free to use the sauna all you want.”

The twins looked perplexed and demanded to know what a sauna was, and Paul just uttered “Uff da!” which caused Andi to laugh. Uff da is a Norwegian expression like “oh shit” and just as useful. She picked it up from her grandparents in North Dakota. Hearing Paul use it in just the correct tone of voice caused her to laugh. Her first laughter in an exceptionally long time, she realized. “A sauna is a small room which gets very hot, your great Grandpa Olson has one, and I’ll teach you girls later.”

Paul smiled. “Your grandpa - Olson? For real? Is his first name Ole?”

“No, but he likes to be called Ole,” said Andi. “he didn’t think his real name sounded Norwegian enough.”

“What was it, Dave? Robert?” asked Paul.

“Knute.”

Paul snorted through his nose at the thought of ‘Knute Olson’ not sounding Norwegian enough and chuckled while the twins kept asking, “What’s so funny?”

“You know Uff Da?” asked Andi.

“Ja shooore, I mean, I should say so, I was stationed at Minot AFB for several years.”

“Why not, Minot,” said Andi.

“Freezin’s the reason,” finished Paul. “I have been to the Norsk Hostefest several times and sampled the lutefisk, and the state fair every year I was there.”

“We go to the state fair every year, we take Nana and Oompa Ole every year, right girls?”

“Pineapple whip!” cried Sandy.

“Kettle corn!” cried Madeline.

“You’ve surely been there,” said Paul. “I’m planning to go up there in the spring, a friend of mine is getting promoted to commander of the Missile Wing at Minot, she kind of demanded that I be there.”

“She?” Andi looked a little surprised, then lifted her glass. “here’s a toast to my sisters in the military!”

Paul lifted his glass too, “to the best rocketeer in the Air Force!”

They touched glasses, and Andi took a sip. “This water is so good! In Denver it would be three, maybe four dollars a liter, what does it go for down here?”

“Not much,” said Paul, looking a little embarrassed. “It’s my tap water. I’m tapped into a natural spring.”

“Oh my gosh, no wonder why Lucy moved here! This must make incredible tea!”

“That can be arranged,” said Paul with a smile.

As they carried their dishes into the kitchen, the twins got antsy. “Can we get our tablets?” asked Sandy. “We want to watch YouTube.”

“YoooTooob!” added Madeline.

Before Andi could say anything, Paul interjected, “I need to tell you this, we don’t have a lot of rules here, but here’s my biggest rule – no screens at the table or after sundown except for special shows on TV. That means phones and tablets. Is that ok Mama?”

Andi grinned, “That’s great! They watch too much YouTube to begin with.”

Paul continued. “The TV I like shut off, only exception is if there’s a special show or a game on.” The twins bristled in anger, they love watching YouTube Kids, but Paul pointed out “There are shelves full of books and board games, records and audio books, I even have a guitar and a keyboard and if you’re good, an autoharp if anyone wants to play for us.”

“Awwww not fair! Why can you watch a game, but I can’t play one on my tablet?” whined Sandy.

It probably wasn’t much use to tell a child that Buffalo Bills football, no matter how bad, is just as much a part of life in Western New York as snow, chicken wings, Beef on Weck, and complaining about the Buffalo Sabres. “Tell you what, just to make it fair, if there’s a game on, I’ll let you watch it with me.” Which satisfied the 5-year-old for about 4 seconds, then Sandy turned to Andi: “Maaaaa!”

“Ok,” said Paul, “If there’s a game on, I’ll make chicken wings.”

“Deal!” shouted Madeline before her sister could complain more.

Paul gazed at the Roberts family in his cabin and said a prayer of thanks to have the chance to share his meal with such a beautiful group. Andi is a tiny woman, well under five feet, dark blond hair to her shoulders, sparkling brown eyes that light up when she smiles, a small pixie nose and a generous mouth with rich lips that need no lip gloss. Her girls are tiny too, reflections of their mother with long silvery blond hair and mischief in their eyes, but they obeyed their mom and helped clear the table after dinner.

The table was cleared in record time, leftovers placed in the refrigerator, and dishes washed and put away by Doctors Paul and Andi. “You have a lot of dishes,” said Andi, as she tried to reach the second shelf of the cabinet.

Paul took the dish from her and placed it in the proper place with ease. “Why do you say that?” he asked.

“Well, it’s just you up here, but you have tons of dishes. I would figure you’d have maybe a place setting for four.”

Paul smiled. “But it’s not just me up here all the time. Josh across the street is in and out constantly with fish and game, my brother and his wife are here constantly, the farmers on either side of me stop by quite often and we make a potluck out of it, and I have friends in Florida who come up in the summer and stay here.”

While they walked back into the main room, the girls hauled their small suitcases and carry-on backpacks upstairs and argued over who gets which cot. As the arguing continued, Paul put his cold weather gear back on.

“I’m going to go clear the driveway again,” he said and hit a few switches on the wall which turned on some flood lights outside, “you gotta keep up with these storms or you’ll end up stuck good.” The snow was piling up fast out there.

“Thank you so much for everything,” said Andi, as she looked into his eyes, trying to read them.

“It’s not a problem, I just hope you enjoy my company” he said as he stepped out the door.

“I’m starting to,” she said to the air in his wake.

For the next hour, Andi, Sandy, and Madeline unpacked some of their clothes into the foot lockers at the end of their beds and made up the beds from the linen and blankets that they found in a standing locker. The pillows were feather pillows, and Madeline discovered you could pluck the feathers out of the pillows and started surreptitiously decorating Sandy’s hair with feathers. Then it was off to see what a sauna was.

Andi locked the cabin doors and led the girls to the sauna in the newer cabin, and figuring out the instructions, she turned on the sauna, set to a lower setting than Grandpa Knute ever used, then she and the girls climbed in to relax in the heat. Madeline liked the steam and Sandy liked the dry heat, which was typical of the two, identical to a point. And the girls couldn’t decide if they liked the idea of cloying heat, but Andi convinced them it feels good after playing in the snow. The twins decided to play in the snow and then try out the sauna later.

After their brief sauna, Andi unlocked the cabin door and while the girls who were still grumbling against the ban on tablets fell back on coloring books, she busied herself looking at the collection of medical publications that were shelved in the back corner. She looked over the tomes, many of whom she depended upon on a regular basis. She then looked at his computer workstation. The stacks of folders and documents showed her that Paul works from this corner of the cabin often. As the evening wore on, the fire kept them warm and the sound of the tractor clearing and scraping the driveway reminded them of the storm outside.

“Ok girls, it’s getting late, jammie time,” Andi called, and the girls, still grumbling about the lack of YouTube Kids, put their crayons and coloring books away.