Lights

And then, finally, the lights came back on. I was outside, laying on the grass with Lunagirl snuggled close to me when I heard my father scream out "Yes!"

I rushed into the house and saw--much to my delight--all the lights in the house back on. I experimentally flicked a lamp on and off just to make sure it worked, and thankfully it did. My phone practically blew up with messages from my girls all praising the gods of electricity.  It was so nice to finally put away the flashlights and candles and get back to light bulbs. Because of that week long incident my parents invested in a generator, so in the event a monster storm of any kind it, we would be safe. Three cheers for having power!

School started back up a few days later, my schedule consisting of computers, math and another anthropology class, continuing from last semester. Life was getting back to its usual routine: wake up, go to school, hang out, do homework, do chores, sleep. Repeat until winter break.

Catherine, God bless her, recieved a lot of extra help to assist her with passing her classes. She was getting better, academically and emotionally. Her cought started to go away, too. She didn't talk about the white tree we found, nor did she want to. Naomi mentioned how she wished that we took a picture so she could draw it or show her art teacher. Personally that tree gave me the creeps. I had never seen a tree quite like it, nor do I think I ever will again, and for that I am glad.

For our anniversary, we ate a wholesome dinner of chicken and sweet potatos by candle light at her house. It was very sweet and very romantic, and best of all, my Cathie was acting like herself again.

Some time during the middle of September, Catherine came over for a study session and a dinner. She went over her math and I read my anthropology textbook. It was an interesting chapter on the development of superstitions and folklore. She and I talked through the while, occasionally making observations about the other's subject. When the both of us had finished our work, we began to make preperations for dinner: for tonight, fettuccini alfredo.

Catherine insisted that I relax and allow her the honors, but after I insisted ad nauseum, she allowed me to cook the pasta as she made the sauce.

It was these quiet, peaceful moments that made the evening for us. No words were spoken, but none needed to be; we could understand each other perfectly without them. We set the table and ate slowly, enjoying the moment and each other.

"I feel that I can move past all that and focus on the future." she said. "My restaurant, our marriage. It's going to be great. Oh, I made a menu for the reception if you want to see later on."

"Sounds like a plan." I replied.

After we cleaned the plates she showed me a rough draft of her idea: shrimp scampi, swiss steak and jambalaya where some of the few dishes she wanted to have. The menu had an absolutely delicious range of flavors, all of which I couldn't wait to share with the rest of my family.

Eventually she had to return home. I walked Cathie to her car, we kissed goodbye, and I waved to her as she drove away.

Before I walked back inside, out of the corner of my eye, I could have sworn I saw someone in black under the streetlight.