by Lucy Snow
“Let me know if you have any trouble!” Marty called out in between guffaws as I turned the corner and opened the door, back to where I’d done a little bit of wood chopping right before running out into the cold after Avery. The axe was back in its place on the wall, and as Marty’d just said, there looked to be enough split wood around to last us for at least a week with the fire going nonstop.
I stepped out onto the snow, my feet sinking in a few inches, and went around the edge of the inn to find the shed standing right next to the building. It was just tall enough for me to stand up straight in, and aside from a path in the center to walk, it was filled to the brim with gadgets and gizmos, old blankets, tools, and all the other stuff you can accumulate but never use when running a bed and breakfast. Along the back side was a small table and a stool with a lamp above it — that must be where Marty repaired broken things.
I walked up and down the length of the shed on the center path for a few minutes, running my hand lightly over the items I recognized, but careful to watch where I touched - I had a feeling there wen’t any easily accessible Tetanus shots around.
After that, I got to work, pulling out a stack of empty bins that I found in the back corner and starting to fill them up with the smaller items to move them out from under foot. It took longer than I thought - I kept finding loose nails and screws around, old hammers and other assorted tools, that all needed to go somewhere if this place was going to get organized.
Despite the slightly tedious nature of the work, though, I was enjoying myself. It felt good to be useful. That wasn’t to say it didn’t feel amazing to spend the last couple days alternating between letting Avery take care of me and then, uh…taking care of Avery in return, but this was a different kind of good.
When I was done with the small items I started moving the bigger stuff around. I realized quickly that there was too much junk here — when the storm blew over, Marty was going to have to call a junk-hauler to come in and take away all the stuff that wasn’t absolutely necessary, if only so that the shed itself could stop looking so intimidating from the inside.
And then I stopped. I was lifting a heavy unlabeled box and setting it on the floor when, in a fit of curiosity, I pulled the creased cardboard flap aside and peered in, a smile crossing my face as soon as I realized what was in there.
It was an old radio set. I’d seen dozens of these before — my father was a classic radio mystery show buff, and he’d spent his youth tinkering with the family radio set in order to get shows from farther and farther away. Of course, when he grew up and made some money for himself, he kept collecting and restoring classic radios.
I moved the box over to the workbench and reached in, pulling out the old components and arranging them so I could see them all at once. Memories of peeking over my father’s shoulder while he worked on restoring radios just like this came flooding back, and I smiled as I brushed the old and battered parts.
“Everything alright in there?” I heard Marty’s voice from outside, then the door behind me opened and he came in, bringing a gust of cold air and snow in with him. I hadn’t realized just how warm it had gotten in here with all the manual labor I was doing.
“Yeah,” I said, waving to him and turning back to the bench, fascinated at the radio that lay out in pieces before me. “What’s the story with this?”
Marty came over to stand behind me and look over my shoulder, and I could hear the smile on his face in his voice. “Oh! You managed to find my old crystal radio set. Hasn’t worked in years, so I just put it away and forgot about it.”
I studied the parts for a few seconds before speaking again. “I think I can fix this,” I said under my breath.
“Yeah? That’d be great!” Marty exclaimed, patting me on the back. “Be nice to hear some of those old shows again.”
I frowned. “First you’d need someone transmitting those ‘old shows’ you mean, Marty.”
“Right, right.” Marty looked down while he thought that over, and I heard him grumbling to himself, something about how all the good things in life were gone. Then he looked up and brightened. “Well, even with the regular radio, at least there’d be something to listen to around here!”
I started putting the components of the radio back into the box, carefully so as not to cause any more damage. “I’ll bring it inside and see what I can do. Better light in there.”
“And Clara’s cooking, too!” Marty rubbed his belly. “Sounds about the right time for a snack if you ask me.”
I hefted the box and let Marty lead the way back inside. “You know, Marty, as good as Clara’s cooking is, I don’t know how you don’t weigh 300 pounds, at least.”
Marty chuckled. “She is great, ain’t she? It’s the only reason we’re still in business!” He paused for a moment, then dropped his voice. “As for me, the old lady wouldn’t have that, no sir. I’d be out in the cold if I got even close.”
And then we were back inside. I set the box on one of the benches in the dining room and pulled the components out again, and sat down to work. From the kitchen I could hear Clara and Avery talking, peals of laughter echoing out every few seconds.
After laying all the components out on the table like I had in the shed, I set about inspecting each one to see what needed to be fixed, briefly aware that Clara had peeked into the dining room from the kitchen before disappearing back inside.
After inventorying everything in the box, and pulling out the manual hidden in the bottom, I realized that, thankfully, nothing was missing; which meant that either something was out of place or broken. Either of the two could be fixed.
“What’s that?” Avery’s sing-song voice came from across the table in the direction of the kitchen. And then I smelled something heavenly, and this time it wasn’t Avery herself.
I looked up, returning to the real world from the mesmerizing private dimension I’d go when working on a problem to see Avery standing before me, dressed in another one of Clara’s daughter’s dresses, giving me a funny look and holding a tray of what had to be, from the smell, the world’s greatest chocolate chip cookies.
“It’s a radio,” I murmured, glancing back down at the gear strewn around the table before standing up. “Those smell good.”
“Clara showed me her recipe,” Avery said, setting the tray down under a towel next to my makeshift workspace. “Try one.”
“How can I refuse?” I said, picking up one huge cookie then tossing it between my fingers as it burned.
“Careful! They’re fresh out of the oven.”
I set the cookie back down on the tray. “I’ll wait a minute or two — don’t want to burn off the taste buds I’ve got on the first bite.”
Avery giggled. “I can lend you some of mine if you want…”
And then we both burst out laughing as we processed what she’d just said. And we kept on laughing, till both of us were nearly crying. “OK, OK,” Avery said as she tried in vain to collect herself before another wave of laughter overtook her. She held up a hand. “I apologize for that. It is without a doubt the most embarrassing thing I have ever said.”
I sat back down, still shaking with mirth. “Really? The most embarrassing thing you’ve ever said? Clearly you’re not putting yourself out there.”
Avery winked. “I do alright.”
“Yeah, you do.”
Avery came around the table and sat in my lap, giving me a quick kiss before turning to stare at the radio in pieces in front of us. “Did you take it apart first?”
“Nope,” I said, readjusting where she sat to balance better and reach my arms out around her. “I found it out in the shed in pieces like this, and I’m putting it back together.”
Avery leaned over and picked up a couple components, turning them over in her fingers and staring at them intently. “You know how to put one of these back together?” She looked at me with one of those wide eyed looks of wonder that I’d never get tired of. “How did you learn something like that?”
/> I shrugged. “I spent six months in Amsterdam rebuilding radios for preservation in a history museum.”
Avery’s jaw dropped. “No shit?” she whispered under her breath.
I frowned. “Of course not, come on, Avery,” I said, as I reached up and cupped one of her boobs over her dress. She squealed and pulled my hand away, giving me a scandalized look that still had a question on it. “My father’s really into old radio stuff. He’s a collector, and I used to watch him fixing up the stuff he’d find at yard and estate sales.”
Avery’s eyes bore into me. “You don’t talk much about your father.”
“You’re right, I don’t.” I looked away from her strong and unwavering gaze. “There’s not much to talk about — we don’t see eye to eye on, well, anything.”
“But you’re still going to see him in Meridian.”
I shrugged again. “Yeah, I am. It’s time, and I can’t avoid it any longer.”
“You don’t sound like you’re excited.”
I reached back around Avery and started picking up the components, not thrilled to be talking about my father or what awaited me once the storm passed and I got back to Meridian. “No, I’m not, but at the same time, maybe it’s time to have it out with him once and for all — really figure out what to do about my family and…all the stuff that comes with it.”
Avery leaned back into me, and I caught her own clean vanilla smell, and I breathed it in deep. “If you ever want to talk about it, you know, I know a thing or two about difficult family.”
“Yeah?” I sent down the components I was playing with and focused on the girl sitting on my lap. “Tell me more about that.”
She laughed. “That’s a vast and deep subject, where do you want to start?”
“No idea, but you offered, I’m just taking you up on it.”
Avery shuffled a bit in my lap before getting up and settling into another chair next to me. “They want me to get married right away, settle down, have kids. Basically give up college and all the rest of it.”
“That’s a lot to do all at once. And a lot to push off till-“
“Probably never. I mean, I dunno that many people who can manage like that at my age, especially with kids and a family and school.”
“Sounds like you’re not really into the whole idea.”
Avery nodded. “It’s all just a little too fast, you know? I just want to take a breath for a minute, not have anything more heavy than school bearing down on me.” She gulped. “I’m not scared of responsibility, I just want to make sure that it’s right, you know? I don’t want to rush into anything.”
I leaned forward. “I totally get it. You’re going to see, them, though. That could get a little…testy.”
“Yeah, it probably will, but I figured I should at least try, you know? Make them see that I’m not going to give up on the things I want to do because they’re overly protective of me.” She looked down, a little glum. “I…hope it goes well. I don’t want to fight with them. Makes me feel awful afterward, and I’m sure it’s no better for them.”
“I definitely know that feeling.” I looked back at the swath of radio parts laid out on the table. “My father’s kinda the same way. He and I don’t see eye to eye about anything. He wants me to come back to Meridian and take over the family business.”
Avery sat back, her eyes wide and a look of shock on her beautiful face. “That’s why you’re going back? To see him about a…job?” She covered her mouth with her hand. “That doesn’t sound like you at all, Eames,” she dropped her hand. “I mean, what I know about you so far.”
I chuckled. “Yeah. Exactly.” I shrugged. “It’s just to talk. I haven’t made any decisions yet.”
“But you’re going to talk. That sounds like a big step.”
“Sure is. We haven’t seen each other in person in years.”
“That’ll be a big shock. But you’re going to try and make him see things your way?”
I paused, not sure what to say. “I don’t think he’ll see things my way. I’m hoping to-“ I trailed off, then whispered, “I don’t really know what I’m hoping.”
Avery reached over and squeezed my shoulder. “I know the feeling.”
I grinned at her, and leaned over for a quick kiss before moving back to the radio parts, feeling myself get absorbed back into them. Avery must have sensed that I was losing focus and she stood up and walked around the table, sitting down opposite me, the radio pieces in between us.
“Cookies should be cool enough now,” she announced.
“What? Oh, right,” I said, looking up. I picked up the same cookie and took a bite, and then wolfed it down before reaching for another one.
“I take it they meet your approval?”
“Are you kidding? These are incredible.”
Avery ate a cookie herself and smiled. “Yeah…they, uh, pretty much are.”
I wiped my hands off and got back to work, the manual open next to me on the table. I started from the base shell of the device, then decided to rebuild the working mechanism and insert it into the shell at the end rather than building it inside from the start.
“How can I help?” Avery asked, the eagerness clear in her voice. “Just tell me what to do.”
I only paused for a minute before I nodded and started handing her components from the table. “See how these can fit together so that they look like this,” I said, showing her the final assembly for that section.
“OK, that I can do,” Avery said, and got to work.
We pieced the radio together over about an hour, trading components and assemblies back and forth as it started to come together, and I explained which components did what and went where.
Clara and Marty both walked by at different times, Clara bringing us giant glasses of milk to go with the still-hot and definitely delicious cookies, and Marty just to watch in awe as his long-forgotten box of old radio parts started looking like the device pictured in the manual.
When we were finally ready to turn it on, everyone gathered around the table and I plugged the leads into the batteries Marty had found, and as the static filled the room, Clara and Marty cheered.
“Hot damn, kids! You did it!” Marty whooped. “Can you get a working station?”
“I’ll try.” I sat down, feeling Avery just over my shoulder as I turned the knobs to find the local NPR station. I finally found it - FM 99.5 out of Jackson. The sound crackled as I tuned the dial to get it just right, and then the sound of the first other voices we’d heard in days came out loudly through the radio’s small and tinny speaker.
I felt Avery’s arms around my neck as she hugged me from the back, and Marty kept whispering, ‘hot damn, hot damn,’ to himself, while Clara gave him reproachful looks for his language.
We listened in rapt attention as the hour turned over and the news and weather report came on. The news sped by, and then we all heard it.
“Meteorologists are confident the storm has begun to weaken, and will be over in fewer than 4 days.”
The rest of the report finished, and then another of NPR’s call-in shows began, people from all over New England calling in to talk about the storm and how it had affected their lives.
“It’s almost over!” Clara exclaimed happily, before looking at the clock. “Oh! I should finish getting lunch ready. I hope you kids didn’t fill up on too many of those cookies.”
“For your cooking, Clara, we’ll make room,” Avery said, smiling at me, though I could tell the smile wasn’t entirely genuine.
