A Winter Morning

The field behind the house was covered in an even layer of snow fallen the night before. Sammy sat on the barstool at the kitchen counter, glumly looking out the back door window. The gray sky was heavy with clouds, and it seemed to mirror his mood. He sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time this morning as he thought about his grandfather. Off in the distance, the pine trees looked like big green confections, stacked high and covered in powdered sugar and white icing, just waiting to be eaten. Grandpa had promised he'd be back soon. He'd already missed Thanksgiving, and mommy's birthday, and Sammy seemed to be just marking time waiting for the old man and his huge dog to reappear and bring some joy back into the ten year old's world.

He climbed down and padded into the living room. He picked up the remote for the big TV, absently flipping through the channels for what seemed like the millionth time this morning. He started moving all the stuff around on the glass coffee table. The piles of Kleenex, the vitamin D capsules, the sinus medications and the coffee mugs with the dregs of chamomile tea that mommy had been using to stave off her head cold were mixed with all the detritus that home surfaces accumulate naturally.

Sammy sighed again as he found his Nook and flopped back onto the couch, snuggling down into the soft red & black plaid blanket that covered the back of the sofa. He plumped one of the embroidered pillows his mom had finished last spring and placed it behind his head and laid the other across his lap to prop the tablet up to read. No sooner had he began to read than he heard a huge thump against the back door, followed by a loud bark that threatened to rattle the glass out of it by sonic energy alone.

He sprang to his feet, running into the kitchen. He pulled open the back door and was immediately bowled over by two hundred pounds of canine enthusiasm. He clamped his fingers around Roller's collar and let the huge dog drag him around over the tile floor as he giggled uncontrollably. The mastiff stopped, tail wagging, and both of them looked towards the back door expectantly. Spartacus Kane's booming voice preceded him into the house, filling it with his presence as he strode in, "You didn't think for a minute I'd let my grandson greet Christmas day without me, did you?"

Sammy jumped up, untangling himself from the massive dog's collar, and flung himself into Grandpa's arms. "I knew you'd be here, I just knew it!" He buried his face into the thick lapel of Kane's heavy green sweater, taking in the scent of good tobacco, machine oil, and clean steam. He heard a chorus of male voices raised in song, and knew Grandpa's crew from the great airship would be coming across the field bearing gifts and the makings of another Christmas feast. Once again, Christmas was as it should be.