“He will get to it, honey,” Sarah said, stacking another log.
“He is just busy with the oil field logistics right now.”
“He promised we would go out to the lake before the big freeze,” the boy said, his voice dropping as he looked at his boots.
Sarah patted his arm, wishing she had a better answer than another promise of next weekend.
She adjusted her silver hair clip, the cold metal biting against her fingers.
“We will make our own fun if we have to,” Sarah said, trying to smile.
At seven, the sports complex was loud with the scraping of skates.
The sharp whistle of the coach echoed off the high rafters.
Sarah stood near the top of the bleachers, watching the local hockey players glide across the bright surface.
Todd stood beside her, his breath short and even.
He rubbed his calloused hands together, his eyes never leaving the ice.
Sarah reached out and slipped her arm through his.
She leaned her shoulder against his heavy canvas jacket.
Todd stepped away, bending down to pull the laces tighter on his insulated leather boots.
“Cold tonight,” Todd said, his voice a low grunt.
“We have always found a way through the coldest winters, Todd,” Sarah said.
She reached to touch his shoulder.
He stood up, looking past her toward the exit doors.
“Need to check the truck,” he said.
Sarah watched him walk down the wooden steps, his heavy boots making a dull sound against the planks.
By ten o’clock, the only light in the living room came from the television and the blue glow of Todd’s phone.
Sarah sat on the sofa with her knitting, her fingers moving the yarn in steady, rhythmic loops.
Todd sat in the recliner across from her.
His thumb scrolled rapidly through a long document on his screen.
