The Between Years

the rest of the world? We ate cold cereal for dinner, making sure to ration our milk. Thankfully, we were overstocked on baby food, which reassured me that we could survive the disaster without our baby boy going hungry.

    After dinner, we unloaded the fridge and downstairs freezer, repacked everything into boxes and grocery bags, and stored the goods on the back porch. Since it was freezing out, I figured there was little chance anything could go bad. After, Randy decided to slip out, check on our neighbors, and help them with their generators if they needed it (and could they spare one for us?) Most of them were older to elderly and their kids wouldn't be able to help them in this weather. So I cradled Kenny and promised to take good care of him in the meantime.

    Randy returned home two hours later, his face red from the cold, and his nose running. He yanked his gloves and toque off, wiped his nose, and combed his fingers through his hair.

    “ Still pretty awful out there,” he said. “Weather's let up a little, but it's still a disaster. I haven't got much gas left either, so we'll be stuck here until everything gets cleared out. Could take days.”

    “ What about work?”

    “ Betcha the library won't even open tomorrow if the roads aren't cleared.”

    “ All the better if you ask me. We can keep our house from caving in.”

    By nine o' clock, Randy had gathered all the flashlights and candles he could find. Given how briefly we'd lived in the house, we'd amassed a respectable hoard of candles. Some were decorative, but we would burn them just the same. Randy had kept two flashlights with fresh batteries, a Bic lighter, and a fire extinguisher in a bottom kitchen cupboard for emergencies. Like a good boy scout, Randy meant to be prepared.

    After we were married, Randy had bought a carton of fire logs that came wrapped in paper, that clean-burning kind. He'd figured it would be romantic for us to cuddle before a roaring fire with glasses of wine, but we never got to using them much. Kenny came to us so quickly that we had very little one-on-one time.

    Randy jerked open the fireplace glass, opened the flu and positioned the first log. An outdoorsman he isn't, but he knew how to improvise. He lit the log at both ends and rubbed his hands together over the flames. “This should last at least a couple of hours,” he said. When I eyed the carton, I couldn't help but count the few remaining logs and calculate how long we would be warm. Would we have enough to stay toasty if the power outage lasted for days on end? I doubted it. But I said nothing, so as not to discourage him, yet I couldn't help but glance at the clock to gauge the time needed to burn the first log.

    By ten-thirty, we were both exhausted and wanted to steal whatever sleep we could in such bitter cold. Randy set up Kenny's bassinet and positioned it as close to the fireplace as he could safely manage. Then he wrapped him in extra blankets and a toque to make sure he didn't freeze.

    Randy slipped on an extra layer of socks, crawled onto the couch, and pulled the afghan over himself. I cocooned myself in blankets on the recliner. Frost etched the windows and I saw my own breath swirl into a cloud. Then I closed my eyes and listened to the cracking sound of tree branches cracking under the weight of leaves and snow. Each time I drifted off, I was awakened by that wretched sound, like a dagger in my heart.

    From the start, I understood that we wouldn't weather this storm without some additional crises. But I had to press through it, had to think positively for my family's sake. So I hugged myself, felt my teeth chatter, while I dreamed of the three of us in warmth and safety.

CHAPTER 13
    Babies are simple to predict because they operate like clockwork and Kenny was no exception. We tended to him twice a night, first around two and a second time around five. The first trip out of bed was to feed him and his diaper change was the natural second. Randy rolled out of bed to take on most of these chores, but he too would grow fatigued, so I would change that poopy diaper with one eye open.

    But I didn't go uninterrupted. I heard Kenny's cries on the baby monitor and felt the mattress lift as Randy rolled off his side, and felt it depress when he crawled back on. The between time was spent in a half-sleep, praying I could drift back into dreamland. Because of the hectic regimen having a child brings, Randy and I never caught up on weekends and