Snow Drop

"Thanks," Colin said, shifting uncomfortably. "I heard about the divorce from your mom. I'm sorry too."

"Hug?"

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his head. "Love one."

They came together and hugged. It was a gesture he wasn't used to, not lately, and he kept trying to figure out what to do with his hands and his arms as she wrapped hers around him. She sniffed and pulled back to wipe tears from her eyes. "Good God, man, did you become a cyborg?"

"What?" he asked, pleasantly baffled.

"it's like hugging a hunk of steel. I mean, not to say that you're a hunk. I mean your muscles are..." Julie sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Do you have something to drink? I could really use something to drink."

* * *

Julie took off her coat and hung it on a peg by the door. "I know I should know who owned this house."

"Rita May-"

"Velk," they said together. Julie continued, "I did come here once. Dad was helping out with the food bank drop-offs. She invited us in. It was a lot more cluttered. She was kind of a pack rat."

"The last owners mentioned something about having to go into the attic through the roof because her stuff fell across the panel and the stairs."

"Yikes."

The home was straight from the sixties or seventies, small, squarish, but with a nice sloped roof and some Victorian touches like small bits of latticework out front under the eaves. Colin kept it pretty neat, though it did have that faint sporty odor she associated with bachelor places, nothing a good airing out wouldn't fix. The walls were loaded with pictures, both of Silje and their respective families. A wooden cross hung on one wall with two pictures of Silje with women holding Bibles. Julie remembered vaguely that she was big into one of the church's youth ministries.

"Take a seat," Colin said, gesturing at a well-loved leather couch and an armchair. "What would you like? I've got beer, probably have the stuff for some Black Russians, or rum and coke, I think."

"Black Russian would be perfect."

The kitchen was only separated from the living room by a stubby island on wheels, and Julie watched him move as he collected bottles from on top of the fridge and poured them each a cocktail.

"When did you get back to town?" he asked.

"Just a few days ago. Staying at my parents' house for the short term, but I actually might be your neighbor, kinda sorta."

He glanced over his shoulder. "The Wilson house?"

She laughed. "You nailed it."

"It's one of the only rentals around the block."

"I forget sometimes how everybody knows everything here."

He chuckled. "Yeah, I hear you."

Colin came back out with two glasses and gave her one. He set his on his coffee table and slipped off his coat. Julie tried not to stare. Colin was not a handsome man, not in the traditional sense. He had a fighter's face even if she never saw him lose his temper. It was craggy and almost mean, amplified by his newfound muscles.

And holy shit, was it obvious even under a checked shirt that he was really packing some serious muscle now.

"You have really been working out," she said again, feeling slightly stupid and kind of drunk even if she had yet to take a sip.

"Uh. Thanks." He smiled over his shoulder. "You're, um, looking good too."

Julie blushed and he didn't draw attention to it. "Thank you."

"I need to text my parents and let them know about the casserole."

"Oh, really, Colin, you don't need to change your dinner plans because of us. You can freeze that, or... you know, put it in the fridge or... anything you do with casseroles, I suppose."

Tongue and mouth, shut up. Shut up now.

"I'm betting they'll love it more than they love the pizza idea, trust me." He pulled out his phone, tapped a message, and stuffed it away again before leaning forward and taking his glass in one of his big hands. "I have to admit, I'm not great at this whole... talking thing. I've kind of lost the touch. So you may have to take the lead."

"I meant to call. Or visit. Or anything other than that stupid Bottlegenie message."

"Thanks," he said uncomfortably, and Julie thought, oh shit, wrong topic.

"I'm sorry, you probably don't want to talk about Silje."

"No, it's fine now, really. I wasn't in the mindset to talk to anyone for a long time. It was only in the last few months I've been coming out of it. I... cared for her a lot."

"I know. I never saw anyone love someone as much as she loved you. I'm sure you felt the same way about her."

Colin nodded, looking away from her. "Yeah." They both sipped their drinks. It was strong, but pleasantly so. "But how about you? You doing okay?"

Julie took a breath and let it out as she really considered that question. It was something she was asked a lot, but if she was prying at the edges of Colin's shell, it was only fair she let him do the same to her. "Things are improving. The divorce took so long and every day it was like this bubble building inside me until everything was finished. In my head, I know it's over, but all that tension, it doesn't leave you right away. I'm still sort of, mm, waiting for that bubble to burst even if I know it already has."

"I'm trying to think of his name," Colin said. "Your mom called him a rotten bastard, but I'm guessing that's not it."

Julie snickered. "No. Brendan. And she is definitely not wrong."

"I never heard her curse much. If she said it now, it must be true. So, divorced, back in Pike Bridge, what's the future got in store for Julie Fisher? Going to go for your dad's job?"

"Oh, God no. I'd look terrible in uniform. I'm starting at the hospital on Monday."

"A nurse, right?"

She smiled. "Spot on."

"They'll be lucky to have you."

"Aw, thanks."

Again they found themselves in the midst of an awkward silence, and Julie sipped her drink. Take the lead, she told herself. "So, obviously you've been working out, but what else are you up to? Are you still working for the Forest Service?"

"No. That's been a while. Jumped around a lot. A lot of part-time work." He looked away from her. "I took some time off after Silje passed on. I'm working at the gym now. It's really going well."

That left out a large chunk of time, but maybe his parents helped him, or Silje's. "I'm glad to hear that. I need to come by and sign up sometime. Mom's cooking is going to make me balloon out."

He laughed, and it carried with it a desperately relieved note. "I hear you. My mom's the same way. Nearing thirty and she still brings me by dinner and leftovers all the time."

"Our parents are pretty great."

"They are."

"Are Silje's parents still around? I wanted to say hi to them too."

"Yeah, still out on the ranch, I think. I bump into them but it's..."

"It's gotta be hard," Julie said, almost whispering.

"Yeah."

"Shit. I'm really... I didn't mean for this to be..."

"It's okay," he said, his voice stilted.

"I should go," she said, and finished her drink.

"Julie, it's really okay," he said.

"No, I... I meant for this to be a happy thing. I'm dragging all this out of you and I don't know, maybe I'm a little raw from my own stuff."

He stood up and collected her glass from her. "All right," Colin said. He sounded... disappointed. I'm sorry, Colin. "I really appreciate the casserole. I'm sure my parents will too. And don't be a stranger around the gym."

"I won't. I'd say don't be a stranger around the hospital, but that's probably not a great thing to wish on someone, right?" He chuckled. Julie came to him and hugged him again. Whereas last time she thought she took him by surprise, given how stiff he was, now he wrapped his arms around her. He was so big. So very much there. She looked up at him and thought for a crazy moment about kissing him. Something friendly, something to let him know she really did mean well.

Instead, she pried herself away, wiping at tears on her cheek, and said, "Every now and then I think about the time she jumped up on stage at Homecoming and demanded you be king."

He surprised her with a roar of laughter. They walked out to her car together, and Julie looked at him one more time before she slid into her crossover. She wanted to say something sweet and kind before she left, or draw his laugh out again, but she could come up with nothing.

"I'll see you around?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said.

"Good," she said.

A block away, at a stop sign, Julie lowered her head to her steering wheel. "Good?" she asked herself. "Good? Oh, you are a dork."

* * *

The house Julie would be moving into wasn't on Colin's way to anything. In fact, it was pretty tucked away in a dead-end street. But still, every day or so, he drove by on his way to the gym or the grocery store, wanting to see her again.

It wasn't even so much that he was attracted to her -- though he was, and there was no denying that -- but that she was a friendly voice. Was that pathetic? He wasn't sure. But he thought maybe he detected the tiniest hint of loneliness in Julie too, and she certainly seemed as fumblingly awkward as he felt. At least they had that in common.

When it came to her questions about Silje, they lacked a certain sort of morbidity he became accustomed to from other people. Instead, there was a fondness there, something he was grateful for. Or maybe Colin was projecting. He didn't know. Regardless, there had been a momentary connection with Julie, a pleasant spark he hadn't felt in a long, long time.

In the weeks that followed, he had a date with one of his cabal. Amy was a pleasantly plump twenty-two-year-old, a single mom who was too harried for a real relationship. He picked her up early in the evening and they drove out to the Moonshiner Lodge, a modestly upscale restaurant deep in the mountains. The meal was good, the blowjob she gave him on the way back even better. He took her to his house, and around the last corner came Julie's crossover. She waved cheerily and he waved back, smiling.

"Who's that?" Amy asked.

"Old classmate of mine, Julie Fisher. She's the sheriff's daughter. She's moving into the neighborhood, or hopes to, anyways."

"She cute?"

Colin rubbed the back of his head. "Ah..."

"Oh, she is. Single?"

"Just divorced."

Amy gasped. "Oh my gosh, maybe we need to make her part of the cabal."

"I think she's looking to catch her breath."

"Colin, if she just got divorced, she's probably looking for someone to fuck her so good she forgets all about her ex-husband. You definitely fit that bill."

"Ah. Heh."

Back at his place, he took Amy good and hard, the way she liked it from him. She wound up on her stomach, legs spread wide for him as he rested above her back, thrusting into her. He suspected she liked to fantasize about another guy, someone from her past and probably her kid's dad, and that was fine by him. It wasn't like he invested his heart into these hookups too.

After they finished and Amy showered, Colin drove her home. She thanked him with a kiss on the cheek and a pat of his groin. "Well done tonight, bravo, five-star rating."

She hopped out and blew him a kiss from her front door. Colin drove back home, slowed at his turn, then decided to see if Julie was at the rental. She wasn't, not yet, but he had a feeling she got the place, and he was proven right a few days later.

When he wasn't working, Sheriff Lester drove a big purple Tundra made all the more distinguishable by an April Fool's prank by his son, Mickey. The story was the stuff of Pike Bridge legend. Mickey borrowed the truck, ostensibly to go couch shopping in nearby New Bainbridge, but instead of the day he told his father it would take, Mickey disappeared with it for nearly four. Understandably irate, Lester left him a series of slow burning threats over text and voicemail, which Mickey responded to with only a simple, "Don't worry about it," and a smiley face. All these messages were saved for the eventual social media reveal, which saw Mickey finally show up in front of the sheriff's office on April 1st in what had once been a reasonably normal pickup and which was now the sort of thing a tuner would crack up about.

For starters was the big fake induction scoop on the hood, made all the funnier because the engine was still completely untouched, save for an oil change. Also along the hood were now two black racing stripes, The windows had been tinted to the extent of the law, a chrome disco ball was now nestled on the shifter, and underneath the truck in the wheel wells were purple underglow lights matching the paint. The best touch, most the town agreed, was the special button installed on the steering wheel that would now play the initial seconds of Ice Cube's "Ghetto Bird" like a horn.

Sheriff Lester was not amused. His deputies and the office staff, on the other hand? Very much so.

The purple beast was now in the driveway of the home Julie was looking to rent. At the curb was Mickey's old beater with a couch hanging off the back end. The two men emerged in the early morning light, and raised their hands when Colin pulled alongside them and rolled down his window.

"You fellas need some help?" he called.

"Could do, if you got a minute," Lester called back.

Colin put his SUV in park and pulled the keys. He was supposed to go on shift in fifteen, but given the size of the town, he could make the drive in just a few minutes.

Mickey, the smallest of the three, jumped up onto the bed while Colin hefted one end of the couch. Mickey brought his end to the edge of the tailgate and Lester took over for him, grunting as he gently eased it off the truck. He led the way going backwards, and Colin trailed him at the sheriff's pace.

"How you doing, Colin?" Mickey asked.

"She's not too heavy."

Mickey chuckled. "I meant in general."

"Oh right. Doing good. Keeping busy. Yourself?"

"Peachy keen."

"Glad to hear it,"

"Step up," Lester grunted.

"Got it," Colin said, and they navigated the couch up a concrete porch and aimed it at the door. In the grand tradition of doors and couches, it didn't want to fit at first until they unscrewed the legs, and then it just barely scraped through. When they had the legs back on it and settled it against a far wall, Mickey crashed out on it.

"Whew, I'm beat from that. Beer time?"

"Gotta get to work," Colin said. "But another time. If there's more and you need help, I'm off in four hours."

Father and son walked back out with him. Lester looked uncomfortable, at least as uncomfortable as Colin felt around him. Flashes of Lester standing with him as they watched the EMTs closing the doors. Of Lester handing him a water bottle with trembling fingers.

Such little blips, but everything about that day was forever burned into Colin's skull, and he held little doubt it was the same for Lester too.

The sheriff said now, "Pay you for your time?"

"You know better than that. Happy to help. I'll swing by after work, see if you're still unloading."

"That's appreciated."

Mickey watched their exchange with a curious look, but said nothing, and soon Colin was off to work.

* * *

"I'm telling you, it's the weirdest I've ever seen Dad act," Mickey said.

While she talked with her brother over the phone, Julie sat in her crossover in the gym's meager parking lot. Not that she had much competition for spaces. The snow and cold hit hard that November, and she doubted many people would be out until it warmed up some.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. It's like... like he was almost quiet around Colin."

"Dad's always quiet."

"Not like this. I mean, they were friendly, but..."

"Look, Dad mentioned he was the one who responded to the call when Silje committed suicide. That had to be a crazy emotional time."

"That's not the first suicide Dad's dealt with. He's never acted like this."

"But Silje was young, you know?"

"I'm just saying..."

Julie interrupted him, irritated. "It's not my business. It's not your business. It's no one's business but Dad's and Colin's."

"You're right," Mickey said, but he sounded wounded. "Yeah. Of course. Just... be careful."

"If Dad didn't trust him, he certainly wouldn't have let him into my house."

"Yeah. I guess. But still, you hear things, you know?"

"Oh my God, not you too. It's Colin. He's still the same guy I went to school with. Just older. I'm going to hang up now." She hesitated. "I love you. Don't be this way. Don't be a Pike Bridger."

"You're right. Of course you are. Shit, I'm sorry, Jules."

They said their goodbyes, and Julie put the phone in a sleeve in her gym bag. She hopped out, bracing against the sting of the sharp breeze. The door to the gym opened, and Colin popped out in a pair of gray sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt. She was glad she wasn't the only one wincing at the cold.

"Jesus, you picked a day," he called as she approached.

"I know, right? Couldn't have come yesterday when it was forty."

They hurried inside and Colin shut the door before giving her another hug. It was just a quick, friendly thing, something Julie wouldn't have minded lasting a few minutes more.

Calm down, girl.

"Good to see you again," he said.

"Thanks. And thank you again for helping at the new place."

"Settling in okay?"

"Yes. It's so much bigger than my place in Chicago. Nice to have some room to sprawl out."

"That's great," Colin said. A pair of women came out through the interior doors, and he spoke to them for a moment, making sure they had a good workout and logging them out of the gym's systems. Julie took a spot near the wall until they were done and out the door again.

"I suppose I shouldn't stand around and gab with you all day. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble."

"Nah, my boss likes me. But let's get you hooked up with a membership and we can talk inside."

They did, and when she was signed up for a three-month contract, he showed her in. The gym used to be a car dealership in her youth, a small one, but she was a frequent guest whenever she made it home. She liked the grays and whites of the gym. It looked modern, and combined with the huge one-sided windows, it was as nice a place as any she went to in Chicago.

Two people rode ellipticals and another couple worked some free weights. Julie knew a couple of them, stopped to say a quick hello, and then went to change. When she came out, Colin was wiping down one of the treadmills.

God, but he lit her up. His shirt fit loose around his stomach but drew tight around his broad shoulders and chest. Yeah, maybe there was some attraction there because he was a wounded bird and that had always been on of Julie's types, but the physicality of him undeniably drew her in too.

He turned, saw her looking, and smiled faintly. She looked away in a hurry, blushing, and headed for another treadmill near him. Colin spent an awful long time making sure the one he was working on was squeaky clean, talking to Julie about harmless little things. Her new job at the hospital, new businesses in town, the exact definition of a Chicago dog, the Snow Drop, pithy things that kept them together without either of them committing to the obvious connection between them.

Julie finally said, "Look, Colin. About me nonstop bringing up Silje, I just wanted you to know I meant it only from a good place."

"And that's all I took it as," he said, smiling. "Really, it's okay to talk about her. With you I feel like it's not like you're prying. Just reliving. Reminiscing."

Touched, Julie said, "Thanks. That's how I hoped it came across. All things considered, are you doing okay?"

"I have good days and bad. Years on and I still wake up expecting her to be beside me. I don't think that's ever going away. How about you? We didn't get much of a chance to talk about your divorce."

Julie slowed her treadmill and wiped at her forehead. It might be cold outside but she was already building up a sweat. "You know, it's complicated. That's not me trying to dodge the question. A huge part of me, like you say, it's always going to kind of be Brandon's, but that's not necessarily healthy. He was verbally abusive the last couple years and our last big fight before I told him I wanted a divorce, I thought he was going to hit me."