The door creaks open
It's blue paint now
A moldy turquoise
With more cracks than yours truly
A brisk, bitter breeze chases her
As it opens
Small tattered shoes step through and land
Snow melts on the linoleum
She ignores the rug,
Disregards its purpose
Seems to be a familiar trait of her
Small frame, frail hair and faintly
Scared fingers, tender and ready
To choke out the first fucker
That tempts her temper
I ask to take her coat as she
Tosses it on the couch
I've this beautiful Willow coat rack
Made for such things, hats and jackets
She coughs and wipes her mouth and nose
On her worn out logger-flannel
I also have handkerchiefs and towels
For such things
She tells me in a breathless choke
"I'm thirsty"
Are you now?
"Would you like a drink?
I've got wine or whiskey
Absinthe and beer"
She cuts me off
At the end of my sentence
A bit late
"I don't drink anymore"
You'd think her voice would warm up
Going from snow outside to a fire heated home
It'd grow soft, relaxed and forgiving
But no, it only grew colder
Colder with each word
I was expected to have known this
"I'll have a glass of water"
Oh would you now?
"Absolutely!" I say
She walks to the dining room
Where she sits herself down
On one of the old maple chairs
My grandfather had made four score ago
I hadn't taken care of them
Like I should have
She waits, impatient
She lights up a cigarette
And ashes it on the cedar table
Like she had done so many times before
There was an ash tray for such things
But she never used it
And neither did I
That was the one thing that had a use
That I didn't use
I grabbed two glasses from the top shelf
Dingy crystal, never to be sparkling
I poured myself a glass of scotch
Highland Park on the rocks
I grab her glass and reach into my freezer
I smile and pull out a bottle of Karlson's Gold
I take our glasses to the dining room
I hand her her drink and I take my seat
She looks at me
A romantic bitterness
I've no use for such things
She sniffs her glass and smirks
Her hazel eyes catch mine sharply
"Ha, you know me too well
You smart prick"
Her voice shared the brisk, bitter breeze
That chased her as she walked inside
Though, it carried a hint of warmth now
Alcohol,
She stands up and throws her glass
Onto the linoleum
It shatters along with the vodka
I smile,
She sits down and lights another cigarette
In the way she lights cigarettes
And I,
I finish my scotch
