Take Care, Sara

perfect temperature. “What? Why are you staring at me?”
    “You don’t know what day it is, do you?”
    Sara searched her brain. “Wednesday?”
    Lincoln snorted. “Yeah. It’s that.”
    “Oh. Tomorrow’s Thanksgiving. What are you…what are you doing for Thanksgiving?” Lincoln was probably going to spend it with his parents, like he should. They were still in town, as far as she knew, waiting.
    “It’s your birthday, Sara,” he said, sounding exasperated.
    She gasped. “Oh my God, I forgot your birthday! I’m so sorry. I didn’t…I wasn’t…I’m sorry, Lincoln.”
    Lincoln shook his head, a wry grin on his face. “I don’t care about my birthday. And you didn’t forget. You called me. You don’t remember?”
    Sara touched a hand to her forehead, shaking her head. “No. I was…out of it. More than usual,” she added at his look.
    “You called. You didn’t say anything. I talked. But, hey, you called.”
    “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
    Lincoln grabbed her shoulders, dipping his head so they were at eyelevel. “Sara. I don’t care about my birthday.”
    “But you care about mine?”
    “Yes.”
    “Why?”
    Lincoln dropped his hands from her shoulders and turned away. His back was tense and his hands fisted at his sides. “You know how sometimes you wanna say something, but it isn’t the right thing to say? Or it isn’t the right time? Or if you did say it, you’d wish you could take it back?”
    “Yes.”
    “Good. Ready?” He shrugged into his jacket and tugged his boots on.
    “That’s it? That wasn’t an answer.”
    Lincoln paused and lifted his head. “Yeah it was. Enough of one. Wrong thing to say, wrong time to say it. Let’s go.” He straightened, lifting one dark brown eyebrow. “Coming?”
    Sara opened the closet, grabbed a gray jacket and pulled it on, all the while scowling at Lincoln. He laughed, shrugging. “You’re so annoying, Lincoln. Did anyone ever tell you that?”
    “I seem to recall you telling me that once in a while. Only one ever to say that, just so you know.”
    Sara snorted, following him outside. The wind was fierce and biting cold. She shivered, wishing she’d grabbed her gloves and scarf. Sara slung her purse over her shoulder and shoved her hands in her coat pockets as she walked to the truck. Snow crunched under her boots and Sara was already wishing it was spring and winter hadn’t even really started yet.
    Ever chivalrous, Lincoln opened the door for her, closing it after her. Sara huddled into her coat, lowering her face under the collar to try to warm it up. “Where are we going?”
    “It’s a surprise.” Lincoln started the engine and the truck rumbled to life, cool air blowing from the vents.
    “I hate surprises,” she reminded him.
    “If you could go anywhere, right now, where would it be?”
    “Texas,” Sara answered immediately.
    “Oh yeah. I guess I knew that. Okay, I’m talking internationally. Anywhere in the world. Where would it be?”
    “Texas.”
    Lincoln sighed as the truth stopped at a Stop sign. “Way to be adventurous.”
    “Are you taking me to Texas?”
    He laughed. “No. Sorry. Not this trip.”
    The cool air warmed and Sara sat up straighter, poking her face out from behind the collar of her coat. “Way to be adventurous. You won’t even take me to Texas.”
    “Touché.”
    “What are you working on anyway? I mean, when you actually work.” Sara laughed when Lincoln shot her a look as he turned the truck toward Fennimore.
    “Shed over by Blue River. Framework and siding and roof are done, but there’s a lot to do inside yet.”
    “Is that what you want to do for the rest of your life, Lincoln?”
    Sara had asked her husband a similar question. He’d said it was all he knew how to do. He’d trained under a guy he knew over the summer when high school was done, somehow going to school full-time too in the fall as well as working full-time. Then he’d graduated and started up his own business, Lincoln joining him later. She’d always wondered at that; to be so happy with something so simple; to not dream and want more than an everyday life.
    She’d thought it lacking; a lifestyle unable to bring one happiness, but maybe she was the one lacking to think such a thing. Clearly he had been happy as a carpenter. She’d never thought less of him; in fact, she’d envied that about him, but she’d always wondered why that was enough for him and others when it wasn’t for her. Sara had