Murray's Reprieve

Murray made it home last night before the storm hit. Their bull terrier met him at the door, as was her custom, anxious for a pat on the head & a scratching of her back. They’d named her Teri—not very imaginative, but who needs creativity when you’re happy & content? Marge had prepared one of his favorite meals: fresh homemade lefse, potatis korv, lightly glazed carrots, hot German potato salad, with rosettes covered in powdered sugar for dessert.

He loved her Swedish cooking almost as much as he loved her. That’s not to say he didn’t enjoy the Scot-Irish food of his youth. But when she went full-on Swede it felt & tasted like a holiday.

They played cards through the evening—gin rummy, dirty canasta, five card & two-handed pinochle. They liked the old games they had played with their parents & grandparents. They thought about getting out the carom board, but they were both tired & decided for bed.

Neither set an alarm for the morning. With the storm, there would be no heading off to work--& no firings. No Zoom meetings had been set up & no calls were expected. Once they’d settled in beneath the covers, Teri jumped up & cozied herself between them.

When Murray awoke it was still dark, though he thought he’d slept quite late. He sat up on the side of the bed, careful not to wake Marge, & tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. He walked to the bathroom & closed the door before turning on the light. He only needed to pee, but he still lifted just the lid & sat down. There were fewer messes that way & no one ever turned the toilet into a bidet—at least not because he’d left the seat up.

He washed his hands thoroughly, singing his ABCs twice, before heading to the kitchen where he washed them again. (Teri had refused to be ignored.) He opened the cupboard, pulled the can of Folger’s® from the shelf, set it on the counter & popped the lid. He closed his eyes & took a deep breath, tasting the aroma with every fiber of his being. As far as he was concerned, the commercials were right. “The best part of waking up is Folger’s® in your cup.” Others had tried tempting him with “gourmet” brands & blends, but Folger’s® is what everyone drank when he was growing up. To him it was the scent of both family & friends.

He pulled out the coffee maker, opened the lid, filled the tank with water, inserted a filter, tossed in a couple of scoops, & set it too brewing. He’d opted for the drip coffee maker over the old-fashioned percolator, but that was as far as he was willing to stray from his family’s morning tradition.

Once the coffee was brewing, he & Teri went out to the living room to throw open the curtains & check the storm. At first, he thought he was seeing things. It couldn’t be snowing that hard. He couldn’t see a thing, not even the bushes he’d planted right beneath the window. He rubbed his eyes & looked again. Then he looked at his watch. Ten seventeen.

Slowly it dawned on him. It wasn’t dark because it was early, but because the windows were buried in snow!

He opened the front door. On the other side of the storm door, there was nothing but a wall of white. It had to be over seven feet deep—after only sixteen hours! He tried pushing to see if there was any give, but the wind had packed it hard. The door wouldn’t budge.

Murray checked the back. It was more sheltered from the wind. Indeed, he discovered that the snow was only half as deep & much more compliant. He pressed the storm door open as far as it would go, then grabbed the snow shovel from where it hung on the wall & began clearing a path. Teri sat & watched. It took over half an hour for him to be satisfied with what he’d accomplished, at which point he propped the door open. He didn’t want to have to do that again.

Now he needed a break. He returned to the kitchen to find Marge pouring a second cup of coffee for herself & a first for him. The commercials really were just a slice of life. The smell of a fresh brewed pot of coffee may very well be the most loving way to awaken your family.

“Well, what have you been doing?” she teasingly scolded him, as though she didn’t already know. “Out there without any coat, gloves, or boots, working for who knows how long, &…, look at you, all drenched with sweat. If you’re not careful, you’ll catch your death.” She took his arm & kissed him on the cheek.

“Hmmm, I think I still smell Penny’s perfume,” she continued to tease. “You should tell her to watch out. Those cheeks belong to me alone.” She smiled as she kissed him again.

Penny & Ralph had become their best friends. She & Murray had them over to the house regularly, often with kids in tow, to play games, share a meal, or just visit. Ralph was one of those guys who was as big as life, never met a stranger, & was ready to help whenever needed. When they played cards, it was either as couples or women versus men. When they played gender wars, Ralph always puffed himself up as proud as he could & asked with a hearty laugh, “Are you sure you ladies want to do this? If we play as couples at least you have a fighting chance.”

At the end of the evening, there would be a round of two-fisted handshakes with Ralph. If he’d won that night, he would rib the losers with his standard, “Better luck next time.” If he’d lost, he would claim it was just a run of bad luck. Whichever way he said good night, it was always with the biggest smile & a mischievous sparkle in his eye.

With Penny, it would be the sweetest word of thanks for a wonderful evening. She would kiss each of them on the cheek before saying, “Good night.” It was her way & they always received her affections gladly. Marge & Murray adored them. Penny & Ralph would tell you the feeling was mutual.

Now, as the two of them sat to drink their coffee, Murray kind of agreed with her. “Yeah, it’s cold out there, though I worked up enough sweat I didn’t really feel it—until I had to take a breather, of course. The snow’s heavy. I needed a break. Thanks for the coffee,” he said lifting his cup to her.

“Thanks for making it,” she chuckled back.

“After I’ve had a couple of cups, I want to see if I can get around to the front & clear some of that out. I couldn’t even budge the door this morning.”

“You be careful out there & take plenty of breaks. Don’t push yourself too hard,” she told him with genuine concern.

“I will. And I’ll suit up before I go out there,” he promised. “From what I can tell the storm is just as bad if not worse than last night.”

“Just be careful. Remember, if you hurt your back, we’re gonna have a hard time getting you in to see a doctor.”

He lifted his cup in a silent toast to her, smiled & nodded his assent.

The rest of the morning & on into the afternoon, Murray labored over the front door, keeping his promise to take frequent breaks. Teri sat down in front of the door, anxiously awaiting his re-entry. They ate leftovers for lunch. Teri received some potatis korv from each of them. Marge made M&M® cookies for an afternoon snack, one of their favorite monogram-esque tributes to their marital bliss. Teri begged but didn’t get any. Chocolate isn’t supposed to be good for dogs. By four in the afternoon, Murray had given up on the front. Every time he returned from a break, he couldn’t see that he’d gained anything. He turned his attentions to clearing out the back, finally quitting a little past five.

He sat at the kitchen table catching his breath as he watched Marge preparing supper. They didn’t talk much as she bustled about. He was too tired. She pulled a loaf of French bread out of the oven & set it to cool, then went back to check on the minestrone she had cooking on the stove.

He knew it must smell good because it always smelled good. But he couldn’t tell. He pulled a tissue from the box setting next to him & blew his nose. That helped, but not as much as he had hoped. He could smell both the soup & the bread some, & the aromas were familiar, but today they made him feel slightly nauseous.

Maybe he had overdone it this afternoon. He enjoyed being out in the weather shoveling snow, so sometimes it happened. And now every muscle in his body was crying out in protest. He tried massaging his legs & arms, but after sitting for twenty minutes they were on strike. He felt a burp coming on, but it didn’t seem to want to come out. It just sat there in the back of his throat, taunting him. He tried rubbing his chest & throat, but it didn’t help.

Marge filled two bowls with soup & set them on the table along with a couple pieces of bread she had sliced for each of them. Finally, she filled two glasses with water, placed them on the table, & sat down.

As usual, Murray had waited for her.

She said a brief table grace & then dove in. He blew on his spoonful of minestrone & took a sip. Three sips later he had it down. He nibbled at a slice of bread, then tried the soup again. The fourth time he lifted the spoon to his lips, he held it there for a few moments, then set it down in the bowl.

“C’mon, honey, you need to eat,” she said, an imploring look in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I’m still full from that delicious lunch & all the cookies. I’m not hungry & I’m pretty tired. I think I’m going to lie down for a while.”

“Okay,” she said empathetically. “Do you need help?”

“No, I’ll be alright. I just need to rest for a bit.” He scratched Teri on the back of her neck, then lowered his soup bowl to the floor for her. He pushed himself up from the table & slowly made his way toward the bedroom, rubbing his chest with his knuckles. The burp still wouldn’t come.

Marge finished her meal, did the dishes, tidied the kitchen & sat back down at the table with her phone in hand. She thought she’d call Penny & see how they were managing. She pushed their number, but nothing happened. She looked at the bars on top of her screen. No service. They were now cut off from the rest of the world.

She finished a few chores around the house, then prepared for bed.

Climbing beneath the covers, she touched his shoulder ever so lightly & kissed him on the cheek. He stirred slightly.

“How are you feeling?” she asked. He mumbled something, then rolled onto his side, clutching the covers just under his chin.

She snuggled up behind him, slid her hand atop his hip, & sighed with sleepy contentment. Teri jumped on the bed & nestled down in front of him.

When she awoke in the morning, her arm was still asleep. Yet even so, she could tell that Murray’s body was stiff & cold.

Teri laid there with him the rest of the day, keeping watch.