Note to self: locate the thermostat first thing in the morning.
***
And that's exactly what I set out to do as soon as I crawl out of bed and my bare feet meet the ice cold floor beneath them. I grab a sweater out of my closet and throw it on over my sweats and tank top while I search for socks. It’s a futile attempt. I quietly tiptoe down the hallway, trying not to wake anyone while at the same time attempting to expose the least amount of foot as possible to the coldness of the hard wood. As I pass Kel's room, I spot his Darth Vader house shoes on the floor. I sneak in and slip them on, finally finding some relief as I head into the kitchen.
I look around for the coffee pot, but don't find it. I remember packing it in the jeep, which is unfortunate since the jeep is parked outside. Outside in this absurdly cold weather.
The jackets are nowhere to be found. Septembers in Texas rarely call for jackets. I grab the keys and decide I'll just have to make a mad dash to the jeep. I open the front door and some sort of white substance is all over the yard. It takes me a second to realize what it is. Snow? In September? I bend down and scoop some up in my hands and examine it. It doesn't snow that often in Texas, but when it does it isn't this kind of snow. Texas snow is more like miniscule pieces of rock-hard hail. Michigan snow is just how I imagined real snow would be: fluffy, soft, and cold ! I quickly drop the snow and dry my hands on my sweatshirt as I head toward the jeep.
I don't make it far. The second my Darth Vader house shoes meet the snow dusted concrete, I'm no longer looking at the jeep in front of me. I'm flat on my back, staring up at the clear blue sky. I immediately feel the pain in my right shoulder and realize I've landed on something hard. I reach around and pull a concrete garden gnome out from beneath me, half of his red hat broken off and shattered into pieces. He's smirking at me. I groan and raise the gnome with my good arm and pull it back, preparing to chuck the thing, when someone stops me.
"That's not a good idea!"
I immediately recognize Will’s voice. His voice is smooth and soothing like my father’s was, but at the same time had an authoritative edge to it. I sit upright and see Will walking up the driveway toward me.
"Are you okay?" he laughs.
Oh, no. I haven't even looked in the mirror this morning. I'm immediately embarrassed, but do my best to appear anything but.
"I'll feel a lot better after I bust this damn thing," I say, trying to pull myself up with no success.
"You don't want to do that, gnomes are good luck," he says as he reaches me. He takes the gnome out of my hands and gently places it on the snow covered grass.
"Yeah," I reply sarcastically as I take in the gash on my shoulder that has now formed a bright red circle on my sweater sleeve. " Real good luck."
Will stops laughing when he sees the blood on my shirt. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I wouldn't have laughed if I knew you were hurt." He bends over and takes my uninjured arm and pulls me up. "You need to get a bandage on that."
"I wouldn't have a clue where to find one at this point," I reply, referring to the mounds of unopened boxes we have yet to unpack.
"You'll have to walk with me. There’s some in our kitchen."
He removes his jacket and wraps it around my shoulders, holding onto my arm as he walks me across the street. I feel a little pathetic with him assisting me-I can walk on my own. I don't object though, and I feel hypocritical to the entire feminist movement. I've regressed to the damsel in distress.
I remove his jacket and lay it across the back of the couch as I follow him into the kitchen. It's still dark inside so I assume everyone is still asleep. His house is more spacious than ours. The open floor plans are similar but the living room seems to be a few feet larger. There's a bay window to the left of the living room with a
***
And that's exactly what I set out to do as soon as I crawl out of bed and my bare feet meet the ice cold floor beneath them. I grab a sweater out of my closet and throw it on over my sweats and tank top while I search for socks. It’s a futile attempt. I quietly tiptoe down the hallway, trying not to wake anyone while at the same time attempting to expose the least amount of foot as possible to the coldness of the hard wood. As I pass Kel's room, I spot his Darth Vader house shoes on the floor. I sneak in and slip them on, finally finding some relief as I head into the kitchen.
I look around for the coffee pot, but don't find it. I remember packing it in the jeep, which is unfortunate since the jeep is parked outside. Outside in this absurdly cold weather.
The jackets are nowhere to be found. Septembers in Texas rarely call for jackets. I grab the keys and decide I'll just have to make a mad dash to the jeep. I open the front door and some sort of white substance is all over the yard. It takes me a second to realize what it is. Snow? In September? I bend down and scoop some up in my hands and examine it. It doesn't snow that often in Texas, but when it does it isn't this kind of snow. Texas snow is more like miniscule pieces of rock-hard hail. Michigan snow is just how I imagined real snow would be: fluffy, soft, and cold ! I quickly drop the snow and dry my hands on my sweatshirt as I head toward the jeep.
I don't make it far. The second my Darth Vader house shoes meet the snow dusted concrete, I'm no longer looking at the jeep in front of me. I'm flat on my back, staring up at the clear blue sky. I immediately feel the pain in my right shoulder and realize I've landed on something hard. I reach around and pull a concrete garden gnome out from beneath me, half of his red hat broken off and shattered into pieces. He's smirking at me. I groan and raise the gnome with my good arm and pull it back, preparing to chuck the thing, when someone stops me.
"That's not a good idea!"
I immediately recognize Will’s voice. His voice is smooth and soothing like my father’s was, but at the same time had an authoritative edge to it. I sit upright and see Will walking up the driveway toward me.
"Are you okay?" he laughs.
Oh, no. I haven't even looked in the mirror this morning. I'm immediately embarrassed, but do my best to appear anything but.
"I'll feel a lot better after I bust this damn thing," I say, trying to pull myself up with no success.
"You don't want to do that, gnomes are good luck," he says as he reaches me. He takes the gnome out of my hands and gently places it on the snow covered grass.
"Yeah," I reply sarcastically as I take in the gash on my shoulder that has now formed a bright red circle on my sweater sleeve. " Real good luck."
Will stops laughing when he sees the blood on my shirt. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I wouldn't have laughed if I knew you were hurt." He bends over and takes my uninjured arm and pulls me up. "You need to get a bandage on that."
"I wouldn't have a clue where to find one at this point," I reply, referring to the mounds of unopened boxes we have yet to unpack.
"You'll have to walk with me. There’s some in our kitchen."
He removes his jacket and wraps it around my shoulders, holding onto my arm as he walks me across the street. I feel a little pathetic with him assisting me-I can walk on my own. I don't object though, and I feel hypocritical to the entire feminist movement. I've regressed to the damsel in distress.
I remove his jacket and lay it across the back of the couch as I follow him into the kitchen. It's still dark inside so I assume everyone is still asleep. His house is more spacious than ours. The open floor plans are similar but the living room seems to be a few feet larger. There's a bay window to the left of the living room with a
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