Sally stirred and began to wake up. Gloriana took the candle and hurried from the room to warm a bottle. There was hardly any warmth left at all in the stove, so she placed a few sticks of wood inside and got them lit. Another task her mother had always overseen. Papa would see to the fireplace, building up a nice big fire to warm the entire front of the house, but Mother managed the kitchen. It was her domain, and everyone knew it.

The memory made Gloriana smile. As the stove’s warmth began to build, she could remember her mother telling Gloriana that the kitchen was the heart of any home. Gloriana could see and understand that even at a young age. The kitchen was the gathering place. Many a time her father’s friends or crew had met there. Visitors were often directed there, where Mama would lay out a spread of goodies and coffee, or even full meals. Heartaches were shared at the table over coffee or milk and cookies. Every important decision her folks had ever made had been made in the kitchen, it seemed.

Gloriana fed the fire a few more pieces of wood, then got the goat’s milk from the window icebox her father had made. The window opened to reveal a box tacked onto the house. On the outside there was a hatch for increasing or decreasing its exposure to the cold. It was convenient and perfect for keeping their food chilled in the winter. Even in the summer, it served a purpose. Her father would pack insulation around it and slip a large piece of ice inside, making it an official icebox.

With the bottle warming, Gloriana went to the living room to tend to the fireplace. There wasn’t much in the way of live embers, but just enough that with a few wood shavings and some kindling, she had a small fire going in minutes. Papa had taught them all how to make a fire.

“Sometimes you have to coax it to life,” he’d say. “And other times it will take off without your even trying. It’s deadly and must be carefully tended. Many a house or life has been lost due to careless fires.”

His warning had never been far from her thoughts. In that moment and so many others, he had been such a good teacher. His absence left a hole that could not be filled.

Gloriana added larger pieces of wood and finally logs, and it wasn’t long before there was a roaring fire. She sat on JT’s stool and warmed herself while gazing into the flames. What did life hold in store for their future? She sighed. Would anything ever feel normal again? Safe? Would they ever truly be happy?