Chapter 8

Slowly, Andi opened her eyes and realized how cold it was. Not dangerous cold, just cold enough to make her want to snuggle closer to her fiancé ... suddenly the word rang in her head – fiancé. A million conflicting thoughts raced through her mind. She was terrified and excited at the same time, “what am I going to tell the girls?” and then at almost the same time she thought “they’re going to have a father!”

A father to love them! A father to laugh with and show their artwork to. A father to bandage scraped knees and kiss away boo-boos. A father like the one she lost in that goddamn desert. She wanted to scream and cheer and dance in the street. But it was so cold!

She slowly opened one eye to take a peek at her man (Her Man!) and found that she was looking at Sandy. Sometime during the night, as they slept, Sandy came downstairs, joined them, and wiggled up between them. If Sandy were here, Madeline wouldn’t be far away, and sure enough, she was sleeping between her and her man (Her Man!) too, her little blond head sticking out from the other end of the blanket.

Ok, first things first. She needs to warm up the cabin. It was still before sunrise. The only light in the cabin was from the two dim electric candles left on to provide light for the twins in case they got up. Andi slowly eased her way out from under the blankets and on to the chilly cabin floor where she almost landed on top of Wonka who was curled up next to the couch. He didn’t even groan as she stumbled over him. He just curled up into a tighter ball. She crept over to the woodbox and opened the door, and the cold flowed from the wood box into the cabin. Moving as quickly and as quietly as she could, Andi grabbed several good-sized logs, pulled them into the cabin, and closed the wood box door.

She had seen Paul light the fire a few times, so she grabbed some newspaper from the kindling box and was wadding it up when a hand gently grabbed her wrist. She almost screamed, but she was able to make out Paul’s face near hers in the darkness. “Just put the wood in the stove,” he whispered in her ear. She opened the stove’s firebox and put the logs in. There was a charred log in there, so she piled the wood in, leaning it up against the charred log like she had seen Paul do in the past.

She closed the door, and he whispered in her ear, “Open the air intake and the ash pan door.” She did both, and he pulled her close and held her tight to keep her warm. “Watch,” he said. Sure enough, there were some glowing embers on that charred log which glowed brighter as oxygen freely entered the stove’s firebox. The embers glowed, warming the surrounding air. The warm air rose up the chimney, drawing more oxygen in through the vents, which fed the glowing embers, which glowed even warmer, creating an ever-accelerating cycle. Suddenly flames popped to life, and the light they produced flickered about the cabin.

Andi reached forward to close the ash pan door because Paul had previously told her to make sure it was closed, but now it was the primary provider of oxygen to the young flames and the moment she closed the door, the flames died. Paul nudged her, and she opened the door and in a moment the flames came back and continued to build. “You have to keep doing that,” he whispered, “to determine when the fire is hot enough to survive with the door closed. You’ll eventually learn to tell.”

Soon enough, the fire took on a sinister look; the flames grew hot, and the fire roared in anger. The flames no longer flickered and danced, they snarled and shuddered as they devoured the fuel. Andi closed the ash pan door, and the flames grew more subdued, but they started growing again. She leaned forward and adjusted the air vents and soon she was able to replicate the slow, delicate dancing flames that Paul sets in the firebox.

Andi sighed and leaned back, basking in the warmth of her fiancé’s embrace. “What are we going to do, Dr. Jarecki?” she whispered as she reached up and stroked his whiskers.