Maybe soon he could stop taking those pills. Maybe soon he could just get up and go downstairs and have breakfast with his family. Maybe soon he would be going to his office like he used to. Maybe soon he could just put his arms around his wife and simply say, I love you, without fear or guilt or worrying about what he would say after. The major problem was simply that he could not find anything positive or healthy to focus his mind on. If he thought about his work he only experienced worry and concern: was he still capable of performing effectively? will he have a job when he got well? or should he say, if he got well? No, no, he had to get well. But what was wrong with him? He did not really know. He had talked with the people in the hospital and spent time with Dr. Richter, but he still did not know what was wrong with him. What the hell did nervous exhaustion mean?

What did rest mean? Was this rest? Was this going to get him well? Well from what???? O God! He had to get away from that. But if he thought about his wife and children such a sadness flowed through him that he wanted to cry and yet he did not know why. What was there to cry about? He loved them. They loved him. No one was dying, so why cry? Or was he dying? Were there certain types of death he knew nothing about? Was it possible to stay like this forever? Locked into these thoughts in a futile attempt to avoid his feelings? But even if the lock is opened where could he go? When he battled his way free he always ended up in the same place, engulfed by those feelings that literally froze his body and made him shudder with unknown fears and dread, that made the misery of the previous thoughts almost seem like a pleasure. And so he went from a painful level to one that was unbearable, unable to free himself from the process, listening to the sound of another morning as the children scuttled around, continually being hushed by Alice, dressing, eating, gathering books, suddenly remembering something important and eventually rushing from the house.

He continued to lay immobile, eyes shut, until the need to urinate forced him from the bed and he went to the bathroom. He ignored the mirror and washed quickly and dressed in old clothes. He pulled the window shade aside a few inches and looked out… He relaxed a trifle and his face started slipping into a smile as he watched the snow falling straight down, an inch or so on the ground, the trees and bushes covered. The entire front yard white and glistening, the whiteness of the yard sectioned by the footprints of Beth and Michael. A semblance of joy started awakening within him as he looked at the quiet scene—a Cardinal and his lady suddenly splitting the whiteness -remembering sleighriding… and then a pain stabbed him as he realized that the children should have been hooting and hollering at seeing the snow but were undoubtedly told to be quiet, that daddy is sleeping and needs his rest. He stared out the window, aware of the hazards of snow on the roads, and the fact that the driveway would have to be shoveled and…

he escaped down the stairs slowly.

Alice was sitting at the table, drinking coffee. She started smiling as soon as she heard Harry coming down the stairs. Have a good sleep, sweetheart?

Harry shrugged and nodded, Yeah.

Its snowing. Isnt it beautiful?

He nodded again and went to the stove to pour himself a cup of coffee. Alice got up. Here, let me do that, honey. You sit down.

No, no, thats alright. I can get it. Alice stopped halfway to the stove, You sure? Its no trouble. Harry was trying to smile but kept frowning. Please, please, its alright.

Alice stood still for a moment, watching, sensing his irritation, then attempting again. Can I get you something to eat? Toast? Biscuits?

No, no. Just sit down, Alice. Please. He carefully carried his cup to the table and sat.

Alice followed him and sat down slowly not wanting to shake the table and spill his coffee. They both looked out the window at the falling snow. Alice snapped into another smile. Michael was barely dressed when he went out to test the snow. He made a snowball and threw it and came back in all beaming and saying its great packing and the sleighriding will be terrific. Im certainly happy this is Friday. And so are they. This could well be the last snow of the season.

Harry looked at her, his face relaxed, almost smiling, Thats right, isnt it? Its the middle of March.

Thats right, and we survived our first winter in Connecticut without frostbite.

Its not exactly the wilderness.

No. But it is a lot different than the city. Its so incredibly beautiful. Her face beamed and radiated. O Harry, Im so happy we moved here. Thank you for the house and the trees, and… and everything.

Harry looked at her for a moment as she looked at him lovingly, then nodded and finished his coffee and got up. Guess I’d better get going.

Going for a walk?

Yes.

Do you think its a good idea to go walking now? I mean, it looks awfully slippery and treacherous.

Its the only thing Im doing to get well, I -

That isnt true darling—her voice filled with warmth and affection—youre doing everything you can.

Harry was nodding his head, Yes, I suppose so, but it doesnt seem like much to me.

She touched his arm tentatively, then took a hand in both of hers. Try not to be so hard on yourself. Youre looking better every day.

Harry looked at her and pulled his hand from hers, a feeling of annoyance creeping through him, then conflict and tension, wanting to tell Alice not to be so damned patronizing, but the necessary anger wasnt there to force the words from his mouth. His voice was flat, but it did reflect his irritation. Doctors orders. I walk every day. Strengthen the heart.

Alice stood still as Harry finished dressing, not trusting herself to say anything, afraid she would start yelling or calling him a self-pitying bastard, and just watched, in silence, as he prepared himself for the weather… then decided she would try again. Kiss goodbye? leaning forward to kiss him, and be kissed, Harry immediately rigid, turning his cheek to her as he backed away. He looked at her for a brief moment, his expression one of confusion. See you later.

Alice watched him walk across the yard, the only moving object in the snow. He picked his way slowly, and carefully, to the street…

She spun around and went to the kitchen and started scrubbing a pan, tightening her jaw, feeling an ache in her hands and arms, scrubbing so hard it was as if she was trying to rub a hole in the pan. She suddenly dropped it in the sink. Goddamn it. Im not going to put up with this nonsense. That Richter had better do something Im going to call him today and—she suddenly sagged over the sink and threw the soap pad at the pan. It was the same old thing. Every time she got angry with Harry she remembered what the doctor said: that it was expected that Harry would be withdrawn for a while, but his condition would improve with time and rest. She looked out the window over the sink at the almost unnatural quietness outside, which increased the turmoil within her. Time. Time, time!!!! It seems like its what everything needs but we never have enough of. Goddam time! You hear me time? Goddamn you! Whose side you on anyway?!

Harry crossed the street to the side that was free of houses. Just trees all the way up the slight incline to the next street. On the other side he could see houses but they were well back and only visible because the trees were bare. He looked up at the large nests in a couple of trees, nests that he had been told were squirrels. He had been surprised to learn that squirrels had nests like those, having always thought they only lived in the hollows of trees as in cartoons. He passed them each day these past weeks, since being released from the hospital, stopping and checking, yet never once did he see a squirrel anywhere near either nest, or any other creature for that matter. Always nothing.