As if reading his thoughts, the phone rang.
“Susan.”
“Oh, Harry, I’m canceling. But you know in all the years my family has held their New Year’s Eve party I think they’ve only canceled maybe three times. ’ Course when granddad was alive he’d go outside and do whatever needed to be done or he’d call someone. I’m sorry.”
“Well, it will be a quiet way to start 2017. We’ll make up for it somewhere down the road.”
“I think so, too. Ned and I texted everyone except for Mom and Grandmother. Called them and I’m calling you. Have you made any New Year’s resolutions?”
“Not yet. Have to think about that. You?”
“Yes. I’m not going to watch the news in 2017. Just makes me crazy.”
“Hey, that’s a good resolution.” Harry smiled. “Maybe I’ll borrow yours.”
“Well, Happy New Year, Sweetie.”
“Back at you.” Harry hung up the old wall phone, told Fair Susan’s resolution.
“She’s got a point there. How about if we sit in front of the fire? I’ll make you a light hot toddy. For the season.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll have chicken and catnip. For the season,” Pewter meowed.
Fair, seeing an upturned gray face staring intently into his own, opened the cupboard dedicated to pet treats, distributed bacon bits.
“It’s not chicken and catnip but it’s not bad.” Pewter stuffed her mouth.
“Good way to celebrate.” Mrs. Murphy also grabbed bacon bits.
Tucker chewed on a large bacon strip, too big for the kitties. Conversation could wait.
Harry stoked the fire, threw on another log, settled into the old sofa as Fair joined her with the promised hot toddy.
“You, too?”
He nodded. “Cold night. Hot drink.”
Shoulder to shoulder, watching the flames jump, listening to the crackle and pop, they put their stockinged feet on the old coffee table.
“This old house has welcomed one hundred and eighty-three New Year’s,” Harry mused. “Some were hopeful and I’m sure some were not. I can’t imagine what they felt in 1859.”
“Mmm, all that tension. It exploded soon enough.” Fair knew his history. “Do you think countries go in cycles?”
“I do. Seneca and a lot of the Romans thought so. The Stoics. I’m not as clear on my philosophy as I should be, but they wrote a life cycle for nations, for people. There’s nothing new. New technology, but nothing new about people or cultures. They rise and they fall.”
“Sobering.”
“I guess. It’s the way of the world. Every now and then I’ll go back through the family Bibles, the birth dates, the death dates, the notes. I am proud of my people. They worked hard. Some thought backward, I guess, others were forward-thinking, but they did their duty; they knew life promised you nothing.”
“Not a current attitude.” He sipped his drink.
“Fair, we had a frontier. We could always go west until we hit the Pacific. I think attitudes began to change. We started to look inward. Industrialism began to affect everyone and everything. Cities grew large then huge.”
“Now that you mention it, you’re right. Once we hit the West Coast there was no longer an escape valve.”
“You know, honey, we’re just too big. Too many people. We’re starting to get in one another’s way.”
“How about China or India? Talk about getting in one another’s way.” He jumped slightly when a log popped loudly. “Sounded like a gunshot.”
“Did.” She laughed then changed to a more somber mien. “Hearing that gunshot, a pop like the log…I’ve grown up with rifles and guns, I know the sound, but to hear a pop then see Gary crumple. I can’t get it out of my head.”
“I wish I could tell you something helpful. I hope in time the memory will fade. Sometimes I think all the violence in the media, news, films, TV stuff, I feel like we’ve been narcotized to violence. It makes me wonder why violence is entertainment, you know?”
“I do, Sweetie. We’ve had friends die in car accidents, some to cancer far too young. Central Virginia is not a particularly crime-ridden area but stuff happens here. This was a friend, someone I admired and liked. It haunts me,” she said.
They sat in silence for a while.
“Coming down harder.” Fair glanced out the window.
“It’s so dark.”
“The light reflects out a bit. This storm is bigger than the weatherman predicted.” He sighed. “Life in and by the mountains. We have our own weather system.”
He drew her closer to him. “Can’t get cold if I’m close to you.”
She smiled. “Flatterer. Have you made any New Year’s resolutions?”
“No. I should but I never keep them.” He smiled sheepishly. “One year I vowed to go regularly to the gym.”
“I never could figure that one out. You’re in great shape.”
“My work keeps me pretty fit, so does farming, but there’s muscles you don’t use, and I never stretch. I figured the gym would keep me limber. Oh, then there was the year I promised to read Remembrance of Things Past. That lasted two chapters. Better to forget the whole thing.”
She put her head on his shoulder. “My resolution is to live every moment. No plans for the future. Live in the here and now. Be grateful for you, this farm, my friends, my four-footed friends. Be grateful for my health.” She snapped her fingers. “Could be gone like that.”
Harry, five years out from breast cancer, felt she was cured, but she no longer took health for granted.
“Good resolution. I’ll try it, too.”
Harry rose, stirred the fire, walked to the window. “I can barely see the ornamental cherry tree by this window. Must be coming down two or three inches an hour.”
“I’m sure The Weather Channel will know.”