Things hadn’t been the same since that weekend she went to Connecticut without him. It had been spring then, flowers everywhere. He had been busy in the garden.
The leaves were still on the vine now, but they’d turned brown.
He walked to the window, looked out as the light slanted across her taut face.
“Wait a minute,” he said, motioning toward the door through the glass as he pointed, mouthing the words in an exaggerated fashion as he spoke without making a sound. Mimicking the words to her as though she were not already standing outside, did not already feel the chill... “Let me grab my coat.”