Take Care, Sara

forward, his cold nose bumping hers. “Yes…I…can.” Lincoln straightened. “Hurry up. I’m getting snow all over your clean floor. You might have to, like, mop it again or something.” Lincoln widened his eyes at her, clearly making fun of her.
    She wordlessly shook her head. Sara couldn’t think straight with Lincoln and all of his ups and downs.
    He sighed, crossing his arms, the material of his snowmobile jacket sliding together as he moved. “If you can’t do these things for yourself, Sara, you’re going to do them for him. Think of Cole. Do it for him. Stop fighting me and just do it .”
    Her brows furrowed as she stared at Lincoln. He looked back, eyes steady and clear. Lincoln was like a rock, standing tall in the wake of a tsunami, unbending and unbreakable. She spontaneously hugged him, his jacket cold against her skin. Lincoln’s arms rose and his hands held her against him, somehow warming her through the chilled material of his snowmobile garb.
    “What’s that for?”
    “For being you,” she said, pulling back.
    Lincoln’s eyes narrowed and his lips pressed together. He shifted his gaze away as he said, “We’re both hurting, Sara. Instead of wallowing in it and letting it take over, you, and I, need to find things to keep the pain at bay. We need to live . We need to do all the things Cole can’t and we need to be grateful for every breath we get to breathe on our own that he doesn’t. Understand?”
    She inhaled deeply, taking in his unflinching gaze. “You’re better at it than I am.”
    Lincoln flashed a quick grin. “I’m better at a lot of things than you are.”
    “Thanks,” Sara said, snorting a little.
    “I’m sorry about the other night. About the way I’ve been acting lately.”
    “It’s okay, Lincoln.”
    “It’s not okay, Sara.” He sighed and then gently bumped his forehead to hers and stepped back. “Get your stuff on. I’ll be outside waiting.”
    Sara walked toward the closet as Lincoln went outside. Her heart was hurting, not because of that hated date getting closer every day, but for another reason. Lincoln was shoving life back into her, in spite of what she thought she wanted, in spite of her wishes. She could continue to fight it, but Sara knew it was pointless. Lincoln was…Lincoln. She was so thankful for him, even as aggravating as he was. He managed to put everything into perspective; he managed to make her see what she couldn’t see on her own. What about what he doesn’t want you to see?
    ***
    It was loud. The engine was fast and high-pitched and so loud Sara could barely hear her own thoughts, which was a blessing. She held on to Lincoln, her arms wrapped around his waist, trees and hills passing them by in a blur. Sara closed her eyes, feeling the snowmobile’s power underneath her, Lincoln’s solid back against her front, the way her legs straddled the back of his. The windshield of the helmet fogged every now and then, showing how cold it was outside her snowmobile geared body, but it quickly dispersed, once again giving her a view of fluffy snow and countryside.
    Lincoln and he had always liked their toys; be they motorcycles or boats or snowmobiles. In that way they were as one. Sara had never understood that need to disconnect from the world with speed and what she’d considered unnecessary wildness, but now, she kind of did. It was liberating, to go so fast, to forget about obligations and reality and just feel .
    The trail was narrow and rough and at times Sara knocked into Lincoln, her helmet clunking against his. Up and up the hill they climbed, Sara adjusting her body to Lincoln’s, moving with him around turns and corners. Then they were wide open, nothing but space on either side of them. Lincoln cranked on the accelerator and they were soaring. Sara laughed, tipping her head back. Free. She felt free. She wanted to bottle the feeling up and take it with her. Sara hadn’t felt so guiltless, so alive, in a long time.
    She didn’t know she’d loosened her grip until they hit a bump and the snowmobile went up and slammed down, dumping her off the sled and into a snow bank. Sara landed on her back, the air knocked from her lungs. She lay there, wondering if she was okay or not, wondering if it really mattered. Nothing hurt. She flipped the windshield up and stared at a blue sky, mirth bubbling up her throat. That’s how Lincoln found her; lying on her back, laughing.
    Lincoln jumped off the snowmobile before it was