Time and Again

wise. "I could fix some sandwiches." She rose, willing to be gracious if it kept her busy. "Want a beer?"
    "Yeah. Thanks."
    Sunny took two of the candles into the kitchen and nearly relaxed before she realized he'd followed her in. "I can manage this by myself." She opened the refrigerator and swore when she remembered that the light wouldn't come on. Saying nothing, Jacob handed her a candle. She shoved two beers at him.
    He remembered how she had dealt with the bottles that morning, and he was delighted when he found the same tool and popped the tops.
    "Switch on the radio, will you?"
    "What?"
    "The radio," she repeated. "On the windowsill. We might get a weather report."
    He found a small plastic box. He was grinning at it as he found the dial and turned on static.
    "Mess with the tuner," she advised him.
    He was contemplating borrowing it and taking it back home. "Mess with it?"
    "You know- fool with it. See if you can come up with a station."
    He stared at the little portable for a moment, wondering how one fooled an inanimate object. Making sure Sunny's back was to him, he took the radio off the windowsill and shook it. Because that seemed stupid, he began to turn dials. The static faded in and out.
    "Mustard or mayo?"
    "What?"
    "On your sandwich," she said, striving for patience. "Do you want mustard or mayo?"
    "It doesn't matter. Whatever you're having." He found some tinny music that was almost audible. How did people tolerate such unreliable equipment? he wondered. At home he had a portable unit that could give him the weather in Paris, a play-by-play of a ball game, a traffic report from Mars and a passable cup of coffee. Simultaneously. This antique child's toy wasn't coming up with anything more than what sounded like a banjo playing in a wind tunnel.
    "Let me try." Setting the sandwiches aside, Sunny snatched the radio from him. In moments there was a blast of music. "It's temperamental," she explained.
    "It's a machine," he reminded her, miffed.
    "A temperamental one." Satisfied, she set it back on the counter, then carried her sandwich and her beer to the table. "Weather report's not much use anyway." She applied herself to the sandwich. "I already know it's snowing."
    Jacob picked up one of the potato chips she had piled beside the bread. "More to the point is to know when it's going to stop."
    "Speculation." She shrugged as he joined her. "No matter how many satellites they put up there, it's still guesswork."
    He opened his mouth to contradict her but thought better of it and bit into his sandwich instead. "Does it bother you?"
    "What?"
    "Being-" What phrase would she use? "Being cut off."
    "Not really-at least not for a day or two. After that I start to go crazy." She winced, wondering if that was the best choice of words. "How about you?"
    "I don't like being closed in," he said simply. He had to smile when he heard the light tap of her foot on the floor. He was making her nervous again. He took an experimental swig of beer. "This is good." He glanced around when a voice broke into the music to announce the weather. The cheerful, painfully breezy announcer carried on for several moments before getting to the mountains.
    "And you people way up in the Klamath might as well snuggle up. Hope you've got your main squeeze with you, 'cause it looks like you're in for a big one. The white stuffs going to keep right on falling through tomorrow night. Expect about three feet, you hardy souls, with winds gusting up to thirty miles an hour.
    Brrr! Temperatures down to fifteen tonight, not counting old Mr. Wind Chill. Bundle up, baby, and let looove keep you warm."
    "Not very scientific," Jacob murmured.
    Sunny made a rude noise and scowled at the radio. "However it's presented, it means the same thing. I'd better bring in some more wood."
    "I'll get it."
    "I don't need-"
    "You made the sandwiches," he pointed out, sipping more beer. "I'll get the wood when we're finished."
    "Fine." She didn't want him to do her any favors. She ate in silence for a time, watching him. "You'd have been better off to wait until spring."
    "For what?"
    "To come to see Cal."
    He took another bite of his sandwich. He wasn't sure what it was, but it was terrific. "Apparently.
    Actually, I'd planned to be here- sooner." Almost a year sooner. "But it didn't work out."
    "It's a shame your parents couldn't come with you- you know, to visit."
    She saw something in his eyes then. Regret, frustration, anger? She couldn't be sure. "It