Page 4 of What Remains

They said it in unison:

"Pasta."

They stopped, looked at each other in shock… and started laughing.

"Duck-egg pasta," Addy said with a shake of head, as the laughter died. "Cara and I made some when we first got here – a bit of lumpy disaster in the beginning, but honestly delicious once cooked."

"Sounds like mess," Seth said with a grin.

Addy gave him playful scowl. "Excuse you, it was actually bonding experience."

"A messy bonding experience."

"Nothing but messy is the best," she giggled.

Seth pointed to the basket. "Well, looks like round two is calling."

Addy smiled at the eggs – golden, shining, full of quiet promise.

Maybe today would turn out well. Maybe today would be okay.

After the laugh about duck-egg pasta, after the hot cups of coffee warmed their hands, after the conversation died down and turned into a peaceful silence – Seth pushed his chair back from the table and cleared his throat.

"I think I'm going to… take a trip to the springs," he said, his voice somewhat too tight to be casual. "To take a bath."

Cara nodded in agreement. "I checked them yesterday. It's warm enough to fall asleep in them."

Jay looked at Seth and gave him a quick, understanding look – the look only another grieving person could give. "Take your time," he said quietly. "We'll hold down the fort."

Seth managed to force a small smile and took his towel, clean clothes, and one of Jay's old paperbacks – though he probably would not open it.

Watch followed him to the door, wagging his tail in hopes.

"Not today, buddy," Seth murmured, gently pushing the dog aside. "I need some time alone."

Watch whined, but complied, lying in a comfortable spot by the fire.

Seth stepped outside into the cold morning. The air in front of him shimmered, a pale ghost of his breath floating upward, and the crunch of the snow under his boots grew louder with each step as he climbed up the familiar path to the springs, where wisps of steam drifted through the air between the rocks ahead of him.

He needed this.

He needed peace.

He needed space.

His chest had been tight all morning long, stretched and strained to near breaking point, until he recognized it as another of the warnings he'd known so well. This had been harder than most years, harder to endure while winter bore down on him in its heavy, oppressive grayness.

It was worse today.

Molly and AJ were everywhere he went today.

He stepped inside the mouth of the cave and leaned a hand against the cold wall as memories threatened to sweep over him, too many and unrelenting.

AJ stumbling towards him with arms held wide, walking with an unsteady gait and babbles of baby talk, but with "Dada" coming through loud and clear.

Molly laughing as she tried to get AJ to clap, her curly hair bobbing as she pranced barefoot around the kitchen.

Molly kissing him in such a way that she would deliberately miss his mouth, pressing one to his jaw instead and watching as he rolled his eyes in mock exasperation, her eyes bright with amusement because she was winning.