And yes, that IS all I’ll say.

<><><><><>

“Anybody got a cup of tea for a lonely, parched soul?”

Schrodinger’s ears perked up as the sound of Lai Zhao’s voice floated through CrossWinds Books. The early evening had been quiet – it was still early enough in the season that folks were going home rather than trying to shop. Margie kept the store hours to the normal ones for the first two weeks of December, because after 6 p.m., the only people who really came in were the diehards and the high school students looking to get some project work done. The CrossCat had been drowsing in his bed next to the wood stove, which Molly had kept turned up all day, half-listening to the three girls discussing their paper on the role of the Roads in the development of Carter’s Cove. Now, however, he hopped up, stretched luxuriantly and then trotted over to the tall Asian girl who was shaking snow flakes from her hair.

Lai! He rubbed his cheek against her knee-high leather boots, feeling the cold from outside sink through his fur. Is it snowing again?

“I don’t think it ever stopped,” Lai told him, crouching down to rub his ears. “How’s she doing?”

She’s excited, Schrodinger said, his tail starting to whip back and forth. Drew’s supposed to be home tonight, and I know she has a special dinner planned for him.

“I hope it’s okay if it sits for a while,” Lai said, grinning. “I think she might be distracted.” She stood up again and picked up the leather messenger bag she’d put on the floor. “Come on!”

Schrodinger followed her eagerly into the kitchen, where Molly was singing along with Bing Crosby on the radio as she rolled out dough. The entire kitchen smelled of apples, spices and caramel, which meant she was making more of the caramel apple turnovers that she’d debuted during the fall season to great acclaim. In fact, they’d edged out her cinnamon rolls for a bit. And that was almost unheard of here in Carter’s Cove, where a batch of Molly’s cinnamon rolls were usually gone before the icing finished setting.

“It smells divine in here,” Lai said, shedding her stylish wool coat and sinking onto a stool. “And warm. God, I thought I wouldn’t be warm again walking out there tonight.”

“It could be worse,” Molly said, putting her rolling pin aside. She turned and grabbed a heavy earthenware mug and filled it, not with tea, but with hot apple cider from a pot on the burner. Then she dropped a chai tea bag into the cider. “If it wasn’t snowing, it would be colder.”

Lai shuddered dramatically as she accepted the chai cider from her friend. “Ugh. I still don’t know how I survive every winter.”

“Because you don’t know any different?” Molly chuckled as she slid a plate with two warm turnovers on it. The small triangles of sweet dough were golden brown and drizzled with a caramel-infused frosting, and bulged with apples, spices, raisins and more of Molly’s homemade caramel sauce.  “Watch out, those just came out of the oven.  They’re hot.”

And you’d miss us too much if you went away, Schrodinger added, jumping up on the other stool.  He looked mournfully at Molly, who shook her head but put a large latte mug full of his favorite Earl Grey tea in front of him.  Schrodinger took his tea exactly like his hero, Captain Jean-Luc Picard – hot, and black.

“True.”  Lai bit into one of the turnovers and moaned, half in pleasure, half in pain.

“I told you they were hot!” Molly scolded her.

“They taste better hot,” Lai mumbled, sucking air into her burned mouth.

Molly laughed.  “How can you taste anything with scorched taste buds?” she teased.

“Bah, caramel can’t scorch my taste buds,” Lai said, still fanning her mouth.  “They’ve been fire-tested with wasabi.  The roof of my mouth might never be the same, though.”

Schrodinger dipped his tongue delicately into his tea, trying hard to control his excitement.  Then he snuck a look at the clock.  Almost 7 o’clock.  Almost time for Aunt Margie to come over the store’s intercom and announce that they would be closing in ten minutes.  Then they could get on to the real fun – once Lai convinced Molly to leave the kitchen, that was.

“So, Miss Molly, I hear you have a hot date tonight,” Lai continued, taking a sip of her chai cider.

“That’s the rumor,” Molly said, turning back to her dough so Lai couldn’t see her blush.  Schrodinger saw it, though, and he knew Lai did too.  “Drew’s supposed to be home tonight, and I thought, since it was so cold here, I’d make a beef stew.”

“Do you know when he’s coming?” Lai asked, all innocence, but Schrodinger hastily took another drink of tea so he wouldn’t snort.  Lai was clever, she was.  Molly wouldn’t even be aware she was being led.

Still rolling out to the dough, Molly shook her head.  “He just said this evening, so I figured the stew would be the best idea.  There are biscuits ready to be warmed in the fridge too.”

“He’s a lucky man,” Lai said.  She took another bite (a smaller one, Schrodinger noticed) of the turnover and then said, “How will you know when he’s home?”

“He’s supposed to text.”  Molly put her rolling pin in the sink and then took a pizza cutter from the counter next to her.  The large rectangle of dough rapidly became smaller squares, which Molly filled one corner of with her special mixture.  Caramel from a small pot on the stove joined the apples, spices and raisins on the dough, and then she folded the opposite corner down, creating little triangular packages.  A simple fork pressed the edges together; then she transferred them to the baking sheet she’d had next to her and put the entire thing in the oven, removing the one that had been in there.

Schrodinger loved to watch Molly in the kitchen.  When she was in “the zone,” as she called it, it was an intricate dance that she performed, taking the most mundane of ingredients and transforming them into amazing goodies.  She said it was just cooking, but Schrodinger knew it was more than that.  Molly was magic in the kitchen, never working from actual recipes unless she was redacting them, and in her hands, food became something more than it normally was.  She always knew what went well, and the only burnt food coming out of her kitchen was when she was feeling cross.  The smell of smoke was a sure sign to avoid her.

Now, he and Lai watched as Molly took the last of the caramel and mixed it with some of her homemade icing, thinning it with just a bit of apple cider so it would drizzle nicely on the warm turnovers.  Her spoon moved expertly, laying down a thin line of icing perfectly across each golden pastry.  Then she moved the tray of finished turnovers to the far island, where they joined the rest of their fellows and continued to cool.

Just as she came back to the island, the intercom crackled and Aunt Margie’s voice said, “Attention, folks.  We’re closing in ten minutes.  Please bring your final purchases to the checkout counter downstairs, and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

Molly sat down on the third stool and picked up her own mug of chai cider.  “The last tray should only take about fifteen minutes,” she told Schrodinger.  “So we’ll be out of here on time.”

Okay, he said.  He knew better, but it wasn’t his night to do things.  Drew had promised him that he could do one, but this one required Lai.  More importantly, it required Lai’s car, since Molly didn’t have one.

“Can I help?” Lai asked.  “Then you can get out earlier.  I can even give you a ride.”

“Sure, although there’s not much to do,” Molly said.  “I did the dishes and set everything out for tomorrow already, so Sarah can fill tea orders.  Mostly all I need to do is sweep the kitchen and the tea room, bank the fire in the wood stove, finish off the last set of turnovers and make sure they’re put away.  If you want to sweep once the front door is locked, Lai, I’ll finish in here.”

They chatted and sipped their hot beverages while the turnovers baked.  Then, as Molly frosted the last batch and began to pack the others into air-tight containers for Sarah to serve the next day, Lai and Schrodinger tidied up the tea room, wiping down tables and sweeping the floor.  Molly joined them as they were finishing and she knelt in front of the wood stove, carefully banking the fire for the night.  All Sarah would have to do in the morning was breath some life into the coals, and add wood.

“Molly, do you need a ride home?” Aunt Margie asked, coming into the kitchen, already clad in her heavy lumberjack coat and the hat Molly’s mother had knit for her.  “It’s too cold for you two to be walking home.”

“Lai’s taking us home,” Molly said, and her friend nodded.  “We’re fine, Aunt Margie.”

“Good.”  Aunt Margie shooed them all out of the door and locked it behind her.  “Enjoy your day off!” she called as she strode off to her car.

We will! Schrodinger called back, already bounding towards Lai’s car.  In keeping with her view on life, Lai had eschewed the little black sports car her mother had wanted to buy her in favor of a sleek Land Rover, customized to fit the unique environments she took it into.

Schrodinger bounced into the back seat, barely able to contain his glee.  Now? he asked Lai, carefully, so Molly wouldn’t hear.

“Yes.”  Lai waited until Molly had her seatbelt fastened before she steered the car out of the parking spot.

“Wait, Lai, this isn’t the way to my apartment,” Molly said, as the Land Rover passed the street they normally walked down.

“I know.”  Lai grinned at her.  “Open the glove box.”

Molly gave her a suspicious look, but opened the glove compartment and pulled out a fragrant evergreen branch.  Attached to the middle of the little bough was a gold beaded ornament; still in the glove box was the familiar red envelope.

“You’re rotten!” Molly cried, but Schrodinger heard the joy in her voice.  Just a little bit, but more than he’d heard in a few months.  “You tricked me!”

Lai chuckled.  “You don’t know the half of it.”

<><>

Drew eyed the sky as they packed the rest of the equipment onto the sled they’d brought with them.  The sun was still high, but there were clouds coming in.  The Gate Station at Carter’s Cove had warned them about a storm growing south of the Gate they were working on, and he wanted to be long gone before it got to them.

“We all set, Steve?” he called, and the other tech nodded.

“Good to go,” he said, the southern drawl sounding remarkably out of place.  He’d come up from the Gate station inAustinto help Carter’s Cove over this season, and his accent had most of the girls in town swooning.  The fact that he was tall, tanned and (most importantly) not from the Cove was gravy, or so Molly had told Drew.

“Good.”  Drew spared one more look at the sky.  “Then get that through the Gate.  I’m going to check the cabin one more time, to make sure the only things we left were what the next crew needs.”

Steve nodded.  “Want help?”

“Nah, you and Tom go through.”  Drew looked at the older man who was standing by the arch.  “I’ll be right behind you.”

“Good enough.”  Steve started the engine on the sled and began to guide it down to the Gate.

As he turned and headed back up the path to the little cabin that would eventually be the way station for the Gate (as long as the Road stayed stable, of course, but there was little doubt it would), Drew felt Tom open the Gate.  Each engineer worked the Gate magics a little differently, which made it easy to know who was working.  Tom Alward Senior had been the Gate engineer at the Carter’s Cove Station for nearly forty years.  Rumor had it he was looking to retire next year, although now that his son, Tom Junior, had dropped out of the Academy, that was up in the air.  Drew grimaced.  He liked Tom, even though the guy had hurt Molly pretty badly, and he’d overheard at least one of the tongue lashings the younger Alward had gotten from his father.  No one deserved that.

He was still musing about that when he pushed open the door to the cabin.  Everything seemed to be in order, and Drew made a quick sweep, coming up with an iPod charging cable (Steve’s) and a half-used notebook with row upon row of Gate coordinates (Tom’s).  He stuck both in his jacket pockets and then turned back to the door.

Instead of seeing the door, however, he saw the huge bulk of a man dressed in grey, silver and white furs.  Snow hung around him like a shroud, and his breath danced in the suddenly frigid air of the cabin.  Drew had just enough time to notice all this and then pain erupted from the right side of his face.

           <><>

Molly, Lai and Schrodinger wove their way through the back part of the Cohen Christmas Tree farm, looking for the perfect tree for Molly’s apartment.  As they looked, Molly kept one hand in her pocket, cradling her cell phone, waiting for the phone call she knew would come.

But as the minutes stretched on and on, her faith began to flag.  And then doubts crept in.  Not that he dumped her – no, Drew wouldn’t do that, not even if he was ready for the relationship to be over, which he hadn’t shown any inclination to do.  No, but what if the Gate was delayed?  Mitch would call her, wouldn’t he?  To tell her?

Oh, oh, oh! she heard Schrodinger call excitedly.  Molly, Lai, come on!  Come here!

Her heart swelled.  It had to be Drew.  It had to be.  Molly broke into a run, nearly slipping and falling on the snow.

They burst into the clearing at about the same time, she and Lai, but there was no Drew – just Schrodinger, dancing excitedly around what Molly had to admit was the perfect tree.  I found it! he shouted, shaking his head.  And it even has a birds-nest!

Swallowing her disappointment, Molly smiled at him and knelt down to tie their tag to the base of the tree.  Last year, her father had told Schrodinger that the best, most lucky trees had a left-over bird’s nest in them, and that finding a tree with one in it meant good luck for the coming year.

“You’re right,” she told him, sitting back on her heels after she finished tying their tag on.  “It’s perfect.”

It was – a small Balsam fir, fragrant and full, just a bit taller than she was.  And the precious bird’s nest sat about three quarters of the way up, fully intact.  Lai reached up and took the nest out carefully.

We can put candy in it, right?  And put it back into the tree? Schrodinger asked, looking at Molly.

“Of course,” she said, forcing cheerfulness into her voice.  “That would be really neat.”

She couldn’t fool him, though.  He put one wet paw on her leg.  He’ll be back, Schrodinger said.  It’s just a delay.  We can call the Station and confirm that.  He’ll be back.

“I know.”  Molly hugged him, heedless of the snow melting in his fur.  It had started to snow while they walked: a fine, light snow, like the kiss of stars.  “We’ll call Mal when we get home.”

It was a quiet ride home.  Lai dropped them off at the front door, and waited until Molly unlocked the front door before driving off into the snow, waving. 

She’d been hoping that maybe he’d come straight to the apartment from the Gate – it might have been a rough trip, she reasoned, and he might have just come back, gone to shower and then fallen asleep.  He had a key, after all.

But the apartment was dark and quiet, the lights on the tiny Christmas tree on her table the only illumination.  Schrodinger looked up at her as she turned on the lights in the dining room/foyer.

I’ll check the bedroom, he said, and trotted off.

Molly watched him go, knowing he would find the bedroom just as empty as the rest of the house.  Drew’s jacket and boots weren’t in the foyer.

He hadn’t come back.

She called the Station while Schrodinger watched her with worried eyes.  “Hi, Luke,” she said, when the Gate tech came on the line.  “Is Drew back yet?”

There was a slight hesitation before he answered, so slight that she almost missed it.  “No, he’s not back yet,” he said.  “We’re expecting him at any minute.  There was a storm on the other side, and it caused some Road fluctuations.”

Ice crept along her veins.  “Fluctuations?”

“It’s nothing serious, Molly,” Luke hastened to assure her.  “The Gate blinked a couple of times, and then went dead.  But no one was on the Road between the two Gates when it went down.”

Molly swallowed.  “When will the Gate be working again?” she whispered.

“We’re working on it right now,” Luke assured her.  “I promise you, Molly, we’re doing everything we can to get Drew back home.  Right now, he’s probably in the staff cabin, trying to call home.  The phones won’t work until the Gate reopens.  There’s nothing to worry about.”

The reassurances rang hollow in her ears, but Molly thanked him and hung up the phone.  Something was wrong.  Something was terribly wrong, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

Schrodinger came up to her.  Did he come back?

“No,” Molly said, and told him what Luke had told her.

Do you want me to go look for him? Schrodinger asked her, laying his head against her leg.

For one long moment, Molly considered it, but then she shook her head.  “No, if there’s a storm there, I’d hate to be worrying about both of you.  Luke is right – Drew is probably going frantic trying to call at the staff cabin.  The storm can’t last too long.  They’ll get the Gate reconnected to the Road, and then he’ll come home.”

If you say so, Schrodinger said, but his tone indicated he didn’t believe it.

Neither did she.