Snow and the River Ch. 02

The glory of his relief, his pleasure melting into her own. She felt him relax, jolted by echoing spasms, felt the strength leave his body as his weight bore down on her. He let go of her wrists and pushed himself off her so she could breathe, but kept himself close enough that she could feel his heart still hammering against her breast.

"Oh God, Jack!" she moaned, putting her arms around him and holding him close, "Oh my baby, my baby!"

"Come back to me, precious," he whispered in her ear. "I love you. Say you'll come back to me."

Joy leapt in her heart, and, because it was Jack, fear too.

"Oh Jack, oh baby, I love you too, but I don't know. I don't know."

He lifted his head and looked at her. "Try it, Peggy. Just try it. We can work something out. We don't even have to live together. Just be there for me. Be close to me."

"Jack, I've got my life there."

"Your life," he said, and she realized how hollow her words were. "Then stay now. You don't have to go back tomorrow. Change your ticket. Stay here for a few days, a week. Then see what you think."

"I guess I could stay," she said in confusion. "But there's my cat. My neighbor's feeding my cat."

He laughed and jumped out of bed. "Forget your cat, Peg. Take it from me, she hates you. I know cats. She's glad you're gone. You're staying, you're staying! You have to stay! I have so much to tell you, Peggy, so much to show you!"

She couldn't resist. "Yes. I'll stay, Jack. If you want me to."

"Oh Christ!" he clapped his hands and looked heavenward in joy. "Yes, baby, yes! Over and over again, yes!"

He looked at her, eyes glowing. "Now come on. Get dressed. We're going out."

He made her dress, ignoring her trembling legs, throwing her clothes at her and laughing, pausing only to gather her in his arms and kiss her again as if he was already eager for more.. He pulled her out of the room and dragged her downstairs, pulling her across the lobby in front of the astonished faces of the people with snowy hair as she struggled to get her coat on and push her hair into some kind of shape.

"Come on, come on!"

She knew where they were going, out into the snow, the quiet, falling snow— the same snow but joyous now, like confetti, falling like applause from above. He guided her across the empty street and into the park, his arm around her shoulders protectively. The snow was up to their ankles. They left trails like skiers as he dragged her along, and her feet still knew the way after all this time. She followed him, listening as his excited talk and laughter quieted and stilled as they approached the bridge and he led her out on it.

"It's the same," she said breathlessly. "It's exactly the way it was. Except for the Christmas lights on the hotel. They weren't there then. Or were they? It's darker now, and later."

The thousands of bulbs of white, green and red glittered through the falling snow and cast soft shadows even from across the street.

He smiled. "They were there, we just didn't notice them then. We were young—we didn't need Christmas then like we do now."

She turned to him. "You were right, you know. I've never forgotten. I never forgot a thing, just like you said. I never had French doors, but it snowed like this in New York too, and whenever it did, I thought about you. I remembered you Jack, I did. I never forgot."

He stood there staring at her, his eyes glowing with pleasure, and she walked to him and put her arms inside his coat and pressed against him, holding him close. She began to cry.

"No," he said. "It's not the same. It's not the same snow, it's not the same river, and we're not the same people. But still—it's just as beautiful, isn't it? It's even more beautiful now."

They stood there with their arms around each other, warm in each other's embrace, so still they could hear the sound of the snow falling in the river. The world dissolved around them in the endless, falling white.