Chapter 18 Nora
NORA
Nora woke up shivering at dawn the next morning. She slipped out of bed, sucking in a breath as her bare feet hit the wooden floor, and tiptoed over to the window.
Snow was still coming down now, though more slowly. In the gray morning light, the snow was so deep that it had softened the contrast between the cornfields and lawn, so that the whole farm looked like a single ocean of white.
She hugged herself, a smile tugging at her lips. She felt almost like a child again, looking out at the storm and feeling snug and cozy here in the farmhouse.
Thank goodness River isn’t sleeping in that cottage anymore.
She pictured the snow falling into the living room again and shook her head in disbelief. It was a miracle he’d forgotten his phone. He might have frozen to death out there.
She shivered again at the thought.
If I’m cold, the kids and the kittens might be cold too, she reminded herself, forcing her eyes away from the winter wonderland out the window. But she stopped to check her daily inspiration calendar.
Everything happens for a reason.
It was exactly the kind of quote that broke her heart and made a tendril of anger bloom in her chest when she thought about Pixie and John-John losing their mother and her own loss of the life she had known. What could possibly be the reason for that?
“That one isn’t my favorite, Alma,” she whispered to her sister as she headed to the bathroom.
If Alma were here, she would probably laugh at her.
Nora showered and dressed as quickly as she could, and then slipped into the kids’ room, carrying her own thick comforter with her.
They were snuggled close under the nest of blankets she’d made for them last night, and their little faces were so peaceful. Looking at them like this, you could almost forget that they had ever known sadness.
Nora tucked her own blanket around them gently, deciding it couldn’t hurt to add one more layer of comfort.
They would be sleepy after yesterday, and today might be a boring day for them if they were stuck inside, so sleeping as late as possible might be a good thing.
She certainly wasn’t taking them out in the snow if it kept coming down like this.
Slipping down the stairs, she steeled herself for what she might find.
But all five kittens were still safely in their crate. Most of them were sleeping, curled around each other. But the raven-colored boy opened his yellow eyes and blinked lazily at her as she stepped into the room.
“Good morning,” she murmured to him.
There was a note on the table under the pepper shaker, fluttering in the draft from the window like it was waving at her.
Nora,
I went out early to dig my way to the horses. I’ll be gone a while today, so don’t worry.
Coffeemaker’s ready to go, just hit the button. There’s a loaf of my mom’s pumpkin bread in the freezer if you don’t feel like cooking for the kids. If you do feel like cooking, help yourself to anything you need.
Also, there’s plain paper for making snowflakes if the kids want.
Have a good morning.
-River
Nora smiled and read it again. It was thoughtful of River to remind her that his chores would take longer in the snow.
He knows now that I worry about him…
And the kids would have a blast making snowflakes out of the thick stack of white printer paper he’d set on the table next to the note.
She went over to start the coffeemaker. Pumpkin bread sounded amazing, but on a cold day, she thought a hot breakfast would be even better. And she figured River would be ravenous by the time he’d taken care of the horses.
Hopefully, she could get the kittens squared away before the kids were desperate for breakfast.
It was funny how having an extra grown-up around, even for a few days, made her realize how much planning went into doing it all herself.
She grabbed the two little bowls they had used for the kittens out of the drain rack and prepared a little mush of kitten food and formula. By the time it was ready, the black kitten was mewling for his breakfast and the others were waking up, yawning, and stretching out their tiny paws.
She got down on the floor with one foot on each side of the crate, making her legs into a sort of barrier, and opened the door.
They all piled out, and she watched the little fluff balls licking at their meal. Some were enthusiastic, others were going slowly.
“It’s cold, isn’t it?” she asked them. “Cold food and a cold floor. I guess next time we’ll put down a towel for you guys to stand on.”
She grabbed a blanket from their crate and lifted them up one by one to place them back down on the blanket to eat. The kittens were not fond of having their meal interrupted, and it took a minute to get them settled, but she felt better about the situation as soon as they were eating again.
“Aunt Nora?” a little voice said from the stairs.
“Good morning, Pixie,” Nora said. “Guess who’s eating their breakfast already?”
“John-John?” Pixie asked over a yawn.
“Nope,” Nora said. “It’s the kittens.”
Pixie didn’t reply, but Nora could hear the soft sound of little socked feet moving down the staircase.
“Oh, good morning,” Pixie sighed in ecstasy, lowering herself to the floor.
“Here,” Nora said. “Help me make a fence.”
They slid into place, toes touching as they made a bigger perimeter for the kittens.
“They can climb over us,” Pixie said worriedly.
“Yes,” Nora said. “I just want to encourage them to eat up for now. But it’s okay if they explore after that.”
In no time, the kittens had eaten their fill and were climbing all over Pixie as she giggled and cooed at them. Nora placed them in the litter box one by one and most of them got the idea this time. She only had to clean up one tiny mess.
“Clever kittens,” she told them.
Pixie seemed content to sit on the floor playing with them, for now at least. And she was still wearing her warm pajamas, so Nora figured that was just fine.
She washed her hands and looked around the kitchen for an idea of what to fix for breakfast.
The coffee put her in the mood for coffee cake, which the kids would love. And she could scramble up eggs as soon as River got back, since he had plenty.
“What’s for breakfast?” Pixie asked, obviously thinking about the same thing.
“Coffee cake and eggs, I think,” Nora told her.
“John-John and I can’t have coffee,” Pixie said worriedly.
“Oh, goodness,” Nora said. “I should have explained. Coffee cake is just a yummy cake with a sweet topping that’s nice to eat when you’re drinking coffee. There’s no coffee in it. As a matter of fact, I think it will be delicious with a glass of milk. Does that sound good?”
“Very good,” Pixie said, her eyes wide. “Where’s River?”
“He went out early to take care of the horses,” Nora told her. “That will take a while in all this snow. But he left some paper and scissors on the table in case you wanted to make paper snowflakes.”
“That’s nice,” Pixie said.
She turned her attention back to the kittens. Nora noticed that the little gray tabby was snuggled in the crook of Pixie’s arm.
Her heart ached a little at the thought that they were going to have to leave these kittens here when they headed back to the city. But there was no point spoiling a nice morning by reminding Pixie that they couldn’t have pets in the apartment.
Nora got to work gathering all the ingredients for the cake. By the time the oven was pre-heated, the batter was already in the pan, ready to go in.
Pixie had been keeping Nora entertained by narrating everything the kittens were doing—from going to sleep to trying to climb the table legs.
“I want to make snowflakes,” Pixie decided as Nora closed the oven door again.
“Sure,” Nora said. “Perfect timing. I can do it with you.”
She set a timer for the coffee cake and the two of them curled up on the bench and took turns snipping snowflakes.
“Pixie?” a little voice whispered from the staircase. “Aunt Nora?”
“Good morning, John-John,” Nora said, hopping up from the table to go greet him on the stairs. “Did you sleep well?”
“It’s cold,” he said with a little smile. “I felt snuggly.”
“It is good snuggling weather,” she agreed. “Come on, let’s get your teeth brushed.”
By the time John-John was cleaned up and ready to start his day, the coffee cake was ready. Nora headed to the oven to get it out, and John-John made a beeline for his sister, curling up on the bench beside her to work on snowflakes.
“Since we’re all awake, we can put the radio on, if we want,” Nora offered.
“Yes,” the kids yelled.
She turned the dial to hear Mariah Carey’s gorgeous voice belting out her most famous Christmas hit, and it brought a smile to her face.
“It’s your favorite, Aunt Nora,” Pixie said excitedly. “You have to sing now.”
Nora liked to think she was good at plenty of things—caring for animals, cooking, even crossword puzzles. But she was no singer.
That had never stopped her from singing along though, especially when the song hit her a certain way. Normally, she wouldn’t sing in front of anybody, but the kids were family, so they had seen it all before.
She turned up the volume and jumped right into the chorus. Her own reedy voice barely hit half the high notes, but she felt she made up for it by really selling the feeling of the song. She squeezed her eyes up like a rock star as she strained for the notes, and added in a few dramatic dance moves.
Instantly, the kids were howling with laughter, and cheering her on.
Maybe that was why she didn’t hear the back door open.
A frigid breeze swirled through the kitchen, lifting her hair, and when she opened her eyes, she was face-to-face with River, who was frozen in the open doorway, gazing at her in surprise and amusement.
“Oh,” she said, halting her jazz hands and her singing at once. “Oh no.”
But before she had time to really react, River stepped forward, his own deep voice joining Mariah’s dulcet tones.