“You could do it,” he insisted.
“Ash.” I shook my head. “It’s not that simple. My parents groomed me be a classical pianist, but my heart wasn’t really in it. And you have to love it like nothing else if you’re going to do that for a living.”
“OK, so you don’t want to be a classical pianist. What do you want to be?”
“I’m a children’s librarian.” I deliberately didn’t answer his question about future potential, choosing to ground myself in reality.
“I know what you are. But what do you want to be?”
I let out a frustrated breath. “It’s easy for you to ask me that, Ash. You’re a famous rock star. You’re living the dream.”
“No, I’m not, Ana. Half the time I’m so sick of the shit around me I want to scream.”
“Why don’t you?”
Now he sighed in frustration. “There’s a whole machinery around me, Ana. Tons of people making a living off of me, my band, the promotions, the touring, the merchandizing. I can’t just walk away from it all.”
“Why not? If it’s making you miserable?”
We looked at each other, tense. Until, suddenly, we weren’t anymore. He smiled at me and brought a finger to my chin and I melted into his touch, his sweet kiss on my lips.
“You make a lot of sense, Anika.” We sat together, touching foreheads. “But you still haven’t told me what you want to be when you grow up.”
With a laugh, I reminded him that I was already 24.
“And you think it’s all over, then? 24 and done?”
“All right.” I held my hands up in surrender. “You want to know what I really want to do? But don’t get me wrong, I really do like being a librarian.”
“I know,” he assured me. “I saw you in action. You’re very stern.” I glared at him. “And helpful with the kids,” he added.
“What I’d really love to do is compose. I love writing songs. There, I said it.” I realized I was shaking. Why had that been so hard to admit? I guessed there was the fact that my parents had told me time and again there was no way to earn a living doing songwriting. Why pursue a dream that made no sense?
“Cool!” Ash clapped his hands together. “You’re so good at it.”
“What do you mean?”
“You figured out the perfect way to end that song I’ve been working on for months. I couldn’t get it. Then you jumped in, finished it off and made the whole thing so much better.”
“Really?” That was cool.
“Yeah.” He turned to the keyboard again and began playing that song, the one we’d done together so many times. When I’d first heard him playing it in that stadium in Santa Clara, it had stayed with me, haunting me, calling to me. And he was right, I had heard the ending. It had flowed straight out of my heart and together now we played it beautifully.
“This song’s about you.” He turned to me almost shyly as he played.
“It is?”
“I don’t know how, yet. I’m still figuring out the lyrics.”
“Nothing about melting faces,” I cautioned him.
“Got it.” He nodded.
Outside the window, the view caught my attention. “It’s stopped!” I exclaimed, clutching the blanked around me as I stood up and walked over to the glass. “It’s not snowing anymore.”
In the late afternoon light, the snowscape looked both gorgeous and eerie. Crystal white, icicles hung from the rooftop. I couldn’t make out any distinct shapes in the yard, only mounds, drifts and swells of white. No paths, roads, or other houses, only huge pine trees weighted down by pounds of white snow still stood tall, bearing their heavy load.
“The storm’s over.” Ash came and stood next to me, sounding somewhat regretful.
“It’s so quiet all of a sudden.” No wind raging, no limbs snapping off of trees or heavy whumps of snow falling off roofs. Just us inside, and the silent frozen expanse outside. Soon, snow plows would have it cleared. Soon, we’d have to leave. My heart sunk. There it was, reality. I’d never wanted it to come back.
“You know what that means? Now that the snow’s stopped?” Ash took my hand and squeezed it in his own. The tone of his voice sounded way more upbeat than I felt. “Hot tub!” he exclaimed, pulling me along with him.
Out past the master bedroom, to the side was a sliding door which I had to admit I hadn’t even noticed. We hadn’t exactly been whiling away long, boring hours in the bedroom for me to study all the features. When I’d been in the bedroom, I’d either been tied up and having the best sex of my life, or passed out cold after having had the best sex of my life. It didn’t exactly hone my powers of observation.
Ash flicked on exterior lighting and I could barely make out the shape of a large, white mound surrounded by other, smaller mounds of things. What was it exactly?
“I’m going to need a shovel,” he declared, and dropped my hand to start heading somewhere.
“Get one for me, too!” I called after him. I put on some sweatpants and a sweater I found in a drawer, both too big for me but they’d work. What I didn’t have were snow boots. He’d managed to bring my bags when he’d kidnapped me, but inside I didn’t exactly have snow gear. The best I had was sneakers, the cute kind with neon pink laces.
Ash came back up looking like he’d gotten attacked by a giant coat. He wore massive snow boots up to his knees and wild tufts of fur framed the hood around his face.
“Are you in there?” I asked.
“You laugh,” he told me. “But just you wait. I’m going to shovel you out a hot tub.”
“That’s my man.” I patted him on the back and sent him out into the snow. Just opening up the sliding glass door took some doing, and it became my job just sweeping up the snow that billowed into the bedroom. Ash got to work, shoveling load after load of snow until, slowly, a large circle emerged, then wooden benches, then, the hot tub, itself. He pried off the top, flicked on a few buttons and lights came on inside the tub.
“Victory is mine!” He exclaimed, holding the shovel up above his head like a gladiator.
“You did it!”
He came in and swept me into a huge, snowy embrace and kiss. “What’s my reward, wench?”
I laughed. “Naked hot
tubbing?”
“Arg!” He began stripping off his clothes. I followed suit.
“Wait, were you being a pirate just then?”
“With the ‘arg’?” he asked and I nodded. “Not entirely sure.” He helped me out of the sweater and took my hand. “This tub gets hot fast, but we’ll have to give it a few minutes. The caretaker only had it set to 75.
“It’s already warmed up?” I asked, astonished.
“I’m prepared for every scenario.” Ash winked at me, giving me another “arg,” for good measure. He disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of red wine and two glasses. I grabbed a couple of towels and jammed my feet into a pair of slippers I found in the closet.
Outside, steam rose thick and fast out of the tub. Ash pressed a button that set it to a low bubble and it looked like a witch’s cauldron, hissing and spewing into the night air.
“Are you sure this is OK?”
“Are you afraid I’m trying to cook you? This is like a Hansel and Gretel thing?” He stretched out his hand and said with a grin, “I can’t promise I won’t eat you.”
“At least you’re being honest.” I took his hand and we both took a few tentative steps out into the cold. Make that freezing. And I wasn’t wearing anything. But in a few more steps, we reached the tub and we hustled in as quickly as we could.
The shock of the heat mingled with the chill of the cold air had my senses whirling faster than the hot tub, itself. But slowly, I adjusted, letting the peaceful hum of the water lull my senses. Up above, a crystal clear night sky expanded limitless and promising, countless start twinkling down on us.
“It’s so gorgeous here.” I exhaled, sinking down into the water. I guessed some city people would consider where I’d grown up rural, but honestly it was pretty suburban. We had plenty of traffic lights and stores that stayed open all night and you were hard-pressed to find any part of town where you felt all alone. Out here in the mountains, it felt different. The silence, the darkness at night, the mountains rising in the distance. Days could pass without any interruptions. We’d just experienced it. I didn’t want it to end.