Winter Is Not Forever Read Online Free PDF

asked.
    “I—I—don’t really know. She didn’t open them much, but they are sorta dark, I guess.”
    “Did Doc say how much she weighs?”
    I hadn’t heard him say anything about her weight. I just shook my head.
    “Tell us about Lou,” Grandpa was prompting.
    “Well—”
    “Was it a long—?” began Grandpa again.
    It had seemed half of forever to me, but I shrugged and said honestly, “Doc said it was real good. Real good. I went for him about quarter-to-nine and Sarah was born just before midnight.”
    Grandpa and Uncle Charlie exchanged grins and nods and I understood that they were well satisfied with that.
    “But Aunt Lou says that she was having some—some—” “Contractions.”
    “Yeah, from about one o’clock on. But they didn’t get strong until about suppertime.” I didn’t want them to get the idea that it had been too easy.
    “But she’s fine now?” This was from Grandpa again. “Just fine,” I reassured him.
    Uncle Charlie eased himself off his chair and went for the coffeepot. I wasn’t sure that the coffee would be hot enough yet, but perhaps Uncle Charlie needed something to occupy his hands.
    He poured three cups and brought two of them, a bit of steam rising from each, to the table. He passed one cup to Grandpa and put one down in front of me. It was the first time I noticed that his fingers looked funny. I was about to ask if he had hurt his hand when I noticed that the other hand looked the same way. I shut my mouth quickly on the unasked question and looked at Grandpa, but he didn’t seem to read the question in my eyes. I guess he was still too busy celebrating his new granddaughter.
    “Her name,” he said suddenly. “You haven’t told us her name.”
    “It’s Sarah,” I told him. “Sarah Jane.”
    “That’s nice,” said Grandpa, and Uncle Charlie, who was just returning to the table with his own cup of coffee, repeated the name after me. “Sarah Jane,” he said, “Sarah Jane. That’s nice.”
    I suddenly remembered Aunt Lou’s letter. I fished it from my pocket and handed it to Grandpa. He opened it eagerly and began to read it aloud to Uncle Charlie. There wasn’t much more for me to say about little Sarah Jane. Aunt Lou was saying it all.
    We sat and drank our coffee and chatted some more about the new baby and Aunt Lou and Uncle Nat. But watching Uncle Charlie’s clumsy fingers try to lift the coffee cup to his mouth took some of the joy out of the event for me. He spilled a bit as he tried to drink. I noticed the dark liquid dribble over his fingers more than once as he raised the cup to his mouth. Maybe this was why Uncle Charlie didn’t let the coffee get as steaming hot as he used to.
    I thought of all the times I had watched Uncle Charlie lift the cup to his lips and take a full gulp of steaming hot coffee and somehow manage to swallow it with no harm done. But he had steady hands then. Not gnarled fingers that couldn’t grip things tightly.
    “I’m pretty tired I guess,” I finally excused myself. “Think I’ll go on up to bed.”
    Grandpa was still grinning but he stifled a yawn. “Me, too,” he said and reached for the lamp.
    “You two go ahead,” Uncle Charlie waved us on. “I think I’ll just sit here for a bit longer. Maybe have another cup.” I looked at Grandpa.
    “Did you take one of the pills?” he asked.
    Uncle Charlie nodded.
    “Still no relief?”
    “Some.” Both Grandpa and I knew that Uncle Charlie wasn’t admitting to much.
    Grandpa left the lamp on the table and we climbed the stairs without it.
    When we got up to the hallway I reached out a hand to Grandpa.
    “What is it?” I asked in a whisper.
    Grandpa didn’t seem to understand my question.
    “What’s the matter with Uncle Charlie?” I asked then. “What do you mean?”
    “His hands—all—all twisted, and his walk so slow and—” “Oh, that,” responded Grandpa matter-of-factly. “That’s just his arthritis. It’s gettin’