In a lather, I assessed my surroundings. The stove and clothesline. The tables and chairs. Moonlight through the window. My home…where Arie was kneeling at my mattress.

Startled anew, I sat up and pulled away. “Why…why are you—”

“I was passing in the hall,” he volunteered, my question obvious. “Tried knocking when I heard you yell. But didn’t want to wake the whole floor.”

At his reference to the hour, I recalled my nightclothes. They were modest in flannel, though nightclothes all the same. I cinched my quilt up to my neck and swallowed. The slight soreness of my throat suggested he had saved me from waking the whole floor—excluding Papa, that is, whose typical liquored snoring drifted from the bedroom.

I mumbled my thanks, and Arie nodded, not looking at me.

Then he rose. “See you around, I guess.” With those words, his husky tone encouraged a sense of calm. It was the same voice that through the din of the stairwell had kept me quiet and breathing. Alive.

He went to leave, yet within a few steps, I blurted out, “Wait.”

As he turned, it dawned on me that I had no inkling of what to say. All I knew was I didn’t want him to go.

“It was awfully late,” I ventured, “for you to be up.”

He hedged, fidgeting with the hem of his coat sleeve. “Yeah,” he said.

That was when I noted his clothes. I would have presumed he’d made a quick trip to the outhouse if not for his hat and fully buttoned coat, his daytime trousers and laced-up boots. Shiny white specks on his shoulders indicated a jaunt through drifting snowflakes.

“Were you out doing something?”

“Just…on a walk.”

“A walk? It’s the middle of the night.” I didn’t intend to sound doubtful. Nor challenging. I only meant: “Where did you go?”

He answered without meeting my eyes. “Around.”

I never took him for a mischief-making kid, but he was being rather cagey.

“Were you out meeting someone?” As in maybe some girl.

He shook his head in a manner that seemed sincere, and a possibility came to me. “Trouble with sleep?”

He lifted a shoulder, a nonverbal yes.

The commonality surprised me, though honestly it shouldn’t have.

“Fresh air helps,” he murmured.

I peered beyond the window, taking in the wintry scene, and found perfect sense in it. “Must be sorta freeing,” I mused, “under that big night sky. And with all that bright snow, stretched out every which way.”

When I looked back at Arie, he regarded me with an eased expression. But then he resumed picking at his sleeve, making his departure seem imminent.

“You…wanna stay a minute? We don’t have to talk or anything. I just figure since we’re both awake.”

He contemplated for a brief, worrisome moment. At his nod, I tendered a smile.