What Holds Us Together

by Sandi Ward

  “Really, Sam? You see me every day. In school. You could try talking to me there.”

  Sam shakes his head slightly, and I know there’s more he wants to say, but he lets himself out. “I . . . I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks.”

  Lisa leans back against the front door when he’s gone and sighs dramatically. “The lovebirds are fighting.”

  “Why are you saying we’re lovebirds, when you told me he likes Patty? Besides. We’re not fighting.” I cross my arms over my chest and think about it. “How can we fight, when we’re not even talking?”

  “Annika.” She pushes her frizzy hair back out of her face with one hand. “Jeez. First of all, don’t worry about Sam when he gets quiet. He doesn’t talk much anyway. Half the boys in our grade went mute when we entered high school for some reason. Second, just because he went out with Patty doesn’t mean he likes her. He obviously likes you.” Her top lip curls up in a sneer. “I knew he was the one who made you that tape. And the way he looks at you? Ugh.” She moans. “It seriously makes me sick.”

  “Don’t get sick on my account.”

  “I’m so jealous. I hate you.”

  I freeze. Lisa has never said that to me before. Or anything like it. I mean—yeah, she’s said I hate you before. I know that means nothing in the heat of the moment.

  But jealous? She’s jealous of me? Since when?

  “Don’t be jealous. There’s absolutely nothing going on with me and Sam. And there never will be. Sadly. Pathetically. It’s completely tragic.”

  Pushing off from the door, Lisa tosses her head and puts her hands on her hips. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.” She looks me over and smiles as she looks at my hair. “Sam’s normal, and you’re so weird. He probably knows that if he asked you out, it would mean the end of his social life.”

  Good old Lisa. Thanks a million.

  I storm off to my room to agonize over Sam in peace.

  What Sam doesn’t know is that I took Lisa’s advice and asked Mark Tindall to the prom. Mark and I have been friends since second grade. There’s nothing romantic between us; we’d been talking for months about possibly going to the prom together if we didn’t have other dates. So, of course, Mark said yes. Sam will find out soon enough.

  The Storm, the Men, the Plow

  LUNA

  Sometime in the night, the cottage stops breathing. The vents stop producing warm air, and all goes quiet and still.

  In the morning, I wake in my usual spot at the end of the bed and tuck my paws under me to stay cozy. There’s a draft from the window, and my nose is cold.

  Peter’s ghost stands near Annika, so I assume she is having a dream about him. He looks calm but concerned, as if he wishes he could tell her something. Finally, he lies down and curls around her, as if trying to keep her warm. That’s probably impossible for a ghost to do since he can’t actually touch her, but it’s thoughtful of him to try.

  She lifts her head when there’s a gentle knock at the door. Peter shimmers and then disappears.

  “Annika,” Sam calls out, in a low, scratchy voice. “Can I bother you for a minute?”

  From the weak light coming in the window, I can tell it’s early. The sun has started to rise. I can see through the blinds that it’s still snowing.

  I roll over and yawn. Annika’s eyes snap open as it all comes back to her. The storm. The men. The plow. Telling the twins about boarding school. Her fight with Donovan. Her conversation with Sam.

  And then, the new development: It’s freezing in the house.

  “Hang on.” Annika rolls out of bed and sticks her feet into shearling slippers. She grabs Peter’s red sweatshirt out of the closet, yanks it on over her long flannel nightgown, and pushes her hair back from her face.

  She cracks open the door, and Sam is there with his winter coat on.

  “No heat?”

  He shakes his head. “Where’s your furnace?”

  “It’s in the middle of the house.”

  Annika pads down the stairs, following Sam. I bring up the rear. Danny is waiting for them in the hallway.

  “You guys know anything about furnaces? I don’t want to panic.” Danny breathes on his hands, which are white from the cold. “Maybe it’s something simple, like the pilot light went out. I’m not sure why it would, but it’s possible.”

  Annika leads them to the furnace, which is in a small closet off of the hallway. They take turns looking at it, removing a panel to peer inside. Sam kneels and tries, with no luck, to restart the pilot light near the bottom of the furnace with the lighter Danny has handed him.

  “I think the gas valve has shut off. At least the electricity is still on,” Sam offers as he stands up.

  Annika wraps her arms around her torso. “True. That’s good. At least we have that.” But she doesn’t sound happy about it.

  Sam shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “You know, something like this happened at our parents’ house a few years ago, in a storm. You remember that, Dan?”

  Danny nods. “Sure. The wind rattled the exhaust chimney, which triggered a shutdown. It’s a safety feature on these newer furnaces.”

  “So . . .” Annika chews the inside of her mouth. “How did your parents fix it?” She turns to Danny, eager to hear his reply.

  But he closes his eyes and shakes his head. “They had to have someone come out and service it. I don’t remember how they got it started again. It wasn’t like flipping a switch or anything.”

  I smash my face up against Annika’s leg. I wish there was something I could do.

  She takes her phone out of her sweatshirt pocket and checks the screen. “Hmm. My sister, Lisa, texted me early this morning. She has no heat or power.”

  Sam frowns. “Right across the street?”

  “Yes.” She puts the phone up to her ear for a moment. “But now she’s not answering. Maybe her phone died.”

  “Let’s go get her,” Sam offers, perking up. “I haven’t seen Lisa in a long time. It’ll be fun.”

  “Sure, okay. Let’s do it. If you think we can get up that hill. It’s still snowing, you know.”

  Danny put his hands on his hips. “That sounds like a plan. Why don’t you two go get Lisa while I dig out the truck.”

  Sam shivers. “Do you just want to wait until I get back?”

  “Nah,” Danny says, his voice suddenly sharp. “Go socialize. I slept on it and decided I don’t want you near my truck. You’ve done enough damage.”

  “Screw you.”

  “Shut up. You’re not in charge. I am.”

  I jump back, fur bristling along my spine. I hate sudden outbursts.

  Danny sees Annika’s face. “Sorry. I didn’t sleep well. I’m cold. And hungry. And I quit smoking three months ago. So I’m a little cranky. I’m gonna get a glass of water.” He heads off to the kitchen.

  Sam and Annika are left alone in the hallway. She puts a hand on his arm. “Could you do me a favor, Sam?”

  “Of course. What do you need?” His expression breaks open, and he looks eager to help. There’s a depth of feeling in Sam that I’m beginning to recognize. He’s a good listener, unlike most humans, who prefer to talk.

  “I’ll try to get my kids to come with us while Danny starts shoveling. On the way back, maybe you could distract the kids and keep them outside so I can sneak back in the house and steal a journal out of Donovan’s room.”

  He leans forward. “Steal a journal? From your own son?”

  She clears her throat. “It’s not his. He stole it from me. It belonged to Peter. I don’t want him to read it. I think Donovan has got it hidden in his room.”

  Sam raises an eyebrow. “Did you already ask him for it?”

  “Yes, many times. Please,” she says. “I’m desperate. There are things in there that I don’t want him reading. Including from high school.”

  “From high school? The diary goes that far back?”

  She nods. “That’s when Peter started it. He set it aside for many years a
nd then started it up again. I don’t know exactly what’s in it. But—” Her voice falters.

  Sam stares down toward his feet. “It’s okay. I understand. You don’t want him to read about the accident.”

  “Well, among other things, yes. I don’t know to what degree Peter wrote about the details of losing his leg. He always put on a brave face in public, but in truth, he was traumatized for a time, and the journal might be where he poured out all of his despair. It could be upsetting for the kids to read, especially so soon after his death. Donovan isn’t in the best frame of mind right now. He hasn’t been coping well. I mean, I’m not much better off. But I don’t need him getting hurt all over again. And then . . . there’s the rest of it. You remember.”

  “I get it. Of course I’ll help.” He looks at my woman like he would run a marathon in a handstand if she asked him to. Ready to take any action needed.

  “I’ve felt guilty. All this time. All these years.”

  He nods. “I have, too.”

  “My worst nightmare would be if Peter’s parents knew the truth of it, Sam.” She shudders at the thought. “Peter’s mom has already made it very clear that—”

  Danny clears his throat, which makes us all jump. Sam and Annika move apart. The smell of burning toast tickles my nose.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, but maybe we should get something to eat and keep moving.” He gestures toward the front door. “There are people who depend on us to plow their driveways. Doctors. Cops. Electricians. People who have to be able to get out of their homes. And sick people who need to know an ambulance could reach them if needed.”

  Annika bows her head. “Of course. You guys have work to do. I understand.”

  “Have you heard from Trung?” Sam asks.

  Danny stands up straighter. “Yeah, he’s been working around the clock. He’s doing a bang-up job. But it would be good if we could get out of here to help him. He only got four hours of sleep last night.”

  “Okay.” Annika starts to move toward the kitchen. “Maybe you’ll be able to get the truck out now that it’s daylight.”

  I trail her. I watch as she pours dry food into my bowl, but then I turn to stare at Danny. I’m still worried about him.

  “Not hungry?” she asks me.

  No, I’m hungry. But I’m also concerned.

  The humans slice up bananas and put them on top of cereal. Sam and Danny eat with ferocity, as if the feat of chewing will keep them warm. Annika rubs her arms and gulps down hot coffee.

  Danny disappears for a moment and comes back with the whiskey bottle. He pours some of the amber liquid into his glass and offers it around. “Sam? It’ll keep you warm.”

  But Sam declines it. Instead, he watches Annika with care, as if she’s a fragile vase that might suddenly tip over and crash into a million pieces.

  It’s funny, because at one time, Annika was a strong person. It’s true that for months she’s been hiding in this cottage, avoiding people. But I’ve been hoping that eventually she’s going to get back to her old self. She used to work, and travel, and had so much energy! I imagine she’s just taking a long break and will reemerge at some point.

  As if to prove my point, she gives Sam a confident nod. “I’ll get the twins.” She sticks her mug in the sink after giving it a quick rinse, breezes past the two men, and walks to the bottom of the stairs. I scramble after her.

  “Kids? Hey, Del and Donovan. Wake up. WAKE UP, WAKE UP.” I hear a bed creak and someone’s feet hit the floor. “Hey guys, come on down here. Your aunt Lisa needs us. I want you to come with me when I go get her.” She puts a cupped hand to her mouth. “HEY, KIDS. I NEED YOU TO—”

  She’s startled when Donovan comes quickly down the stairs, followed by Delilah. All in a rush.

  “We’re going to see Aunt Lisa?” Donovan is pulling his hair into a ponytail. “Good, good. I want to see her.”

  Annika’s mouth hangs open. “You do?”

  “Yeah,” Delilah announces. She’s wearing furry pink slippers and a big white robe that used to belong to Peter. “I wanna come, too. Definitely. We need to talk to her.”

  Annika looks confused. She checks them over. They stare back.

  I am also perplexed. I imagined the kids would sleep late this morning. There’s no school, and no rush to do anything. But they seem raring to go.

  Curious.

  “Well, okay. I’m glad you’re coming. Go back up and dress warm. Very warm. Lots of layers.” Annika folds her arms and frowns at Donovan. “No journal? I said I wanted it back this morning. But honestly, I’m not surprised.”

  Donovan’s face falls. “You don’t get it, do you?” He shakes his head. “You think it’s all about you. You think you’re the only one who’s suffering. That you’re the only one who misses Dad. And you want to keep everything perfectly preserved and untouched on your shrine.”

  “What? What are you even talking about? I never—”

  “It’s okay,” Delilah interrupts, with a warning look at her brother. “What Donovan means is that the journal has all kinds of great stuff in it. Things we didn’t know. Like last night we were just reading about a piano recital that Dad was in when he lived in Germany.” Delilah begins to speed up her words, something she does when she’s nervous, just like her mother. “So when we’re reading it, it feels like we’re right there with him. Okay? So it’s just that we’re not done with it yet. We’ll go get ready. Be right back.”

  Delilah turns, grabbing her brother’s arm and pulling him back up the stairs. Annika watches them go with a wary eye.

  I notice that somehow “Donovan is reading the journal” has become “we are reading the journal.” That spells trouble, because once Donovan convinces Delilah to take his side, nothing comes between the twins. And Annika knows it.

  Sam comes down the hall. “Something wrong?”

  Annika taps her mouth with one finger. “I don’t know. They seem excited to go. I guess that’s a good thing.” She nods at Sam. “Give me five minutes.” She starts up the stairs.

  Danny comes down the hall and puts a hand on Sam’s shoulder to steer him over to the middle of the sitting room at the front of the house. He speaks in a quiet voice. “If the snow keeps coming down today, I’m doing it. I’ve gotta do it soon, before the town plows this road. I wanna get a look inside Rich’s garage and see if there’s anything I can use to get it started.”

  Sam’s face darkens. “No, you can’t do it with all these people here. Can’t you just leave it alone? We’ll figure out something else to do.”

  “Sam. Please. Like what? What other choices do we have?”

  Sam shakes his head. “It’s a terrible idea. I told you that.”

  My whiskers stand at alert. I don’t like it when these two start going at it. My tail twitches, as I ready myself to spring away if necessary.

  “Look.” Danny lowers his head. “I’ve got a confession to make.”

  Sam winces, as if something is poking his side. “You do? What do you mean?”

  Danny peers up at his brother, and hesitates. “The truth is, Dad didn’t want you to come back here just for him. I’ve got it, too.”

  “Got what, too?”

  “Cancer.” Danny points to the middle of his chest. “Mine’s lung cancer. Don’t get worked up—it’s early stage. But I haven’t started treatment because there’s no money for it. I need to figure out how I’m going to pay for it.”

  Aha! I knew something was wrong with him.

  I walk over and rub my face against Danny’s boot. He smells like smoke from a woodstove, a pleasant mellow scent.

  I don’t know this word, cancer, but I assume it describes Danny’s illness from the way he pointed to his rib cage when he said the word.

  Danny has nothing to fear, if his illness is fatal. I heard Peter tell the twins that Death is beautiful and benevolent, a shining and glittering angel who escorts souls to Heaven. That’s exactly what Peter said. So there’s nothing Danny needs to worry about.


  It’s the people he leaves behind who will suffer. I should know.

  “Early stage?” Sam takes a step toward the couch and sits near the woodstove. He picks up the throw pillow next to him and hugs it to his chest. “Danny, why didn’t you tell me? Dad knows, but I don’t?” He takes in a shaky breath and exhales.

  “Yeah, Sam. Dad knows. And I’ve been meaning to tell you. But I don’t want you to worry. You’ve got enough on your plate right now.”

  “I don’t understand.” Sam’s voice is muffled as he buries his face in the pillow for a moment. “It doesn’t make sense. You’re healthy. You’ve been working construction and shoveling snow.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s the reason Dad wanted you to quit your job, Sam. He needed you to come back here and help him out, in case I need to quit for a while.”

  “You both lied to me. You didn’t tell me.”

  Danny sits next to Sam on the couch. “But this is why I’ve gotta do this and take that new house off of Dad’s plate. We need the money. Not just for my medical bills, but to take care of my girls. Look, I know you don’t like it. I’m gonna do it all myself. You just stay here and distract Annika.”

  Sam rubs his eyes. “Distract her how?”

  “You know how.” Danny sighs. “Look, she’s your ex-girlfriend. She’s lonely, obviously. And so are you.” Danny glances toward the stairs and then back at Sam. “You could use someone like her in your life. You should reconnect with her. I mean, it looks like you’re doing fine so far. Just keep talking to her.”

  Well! I agree that Sam has already “reconnected” with her. What that could add up to, I’m not sure yet.

  After all, what Danny says is true. Annika is lonely. Which is why she might be vulnerable to some sort of foolishness. I wonder what Danny is planning to do.

  “I don’t want to involve Annika,” Sam says. “In any way.”

  Danny dismisses this with a wave. “She won’t have anything to do with it. She won’t have a clue.” Danny starts to get up, but then relaxes again. “Did you talk to Annika about Peter? I mean, she married that guy? What happened there? I’d like to know.” He clucks his tongue. “Or maybe it’s better not to know, I guess. That must have been a shock, when you heard that. Are you okay?”