Welcome to Winterclear

Some new information has come to light...

Carmen stopped singing, lurched into my arms, and burst into tears. "Mommy," she wailed.

I clung to her so hard that it probably hurt her little bones, but she didn't complain and held me just as hard. As I buried my face in her hair and breathed in her strawberry shampoo, memories rushed back. Laughing in Tim's arms as he strummed his guitar on top of my pregnant belly. Bringing her home to our little gray house after her birth, wrapped in an incredibly soft pink blanket. The blanket would grow worn and faded while she carried it with her everywhere as she grew. I recalled Carmen stripping off her clothes and running around happy and naked all the time. It had only been just the previous fall when she started kindergarten that I'd finally convinced her to keep pants on for a whole day. She was such a smart little girl. She had been able to recognize all the letters before she was two. Uppercase and lowercase. She really only liked chicken nuggets, getting her to eat anything else was a daily struggle.

Once she had told me she had a bad tummy at bed time so I gave her a little bowl in case she felt sick and couldn't make it to the potty. At 2:15 am she woke me up by bringing the bowl and sitting it on my bedside table claiming she was better and didn't need it anymore. Then I woke again at 4 am to her throwing up in the bowl. She'd bypassed the bathroom altogether to come into my room and puke in the bowl right next to my head...

I laughed and I sobbed as all my sweet sweet memories of Carmen and Tim flooded in. She laughed too, a darling little sound that produced her hot breath on my cheek. She didn't know why I was laughing. But that was my daughter, the sort of person who didn't need a reason to laugh. She just had that zest for life.

I could've held her forever but my office door slowly began to drift open, and my husband stepped inside.

I peeked through the shade of Carmen's hair over my face to see the slow smile spread across his handsome face. I leapt up, carrying Carmen with me and rushed to him. He opened his arms and wrapped them warmly around us both. I could feel it all, feel everything. Their skin against mine. Their smells mingling together, strawberries and the woods. The heat from their bodies. Something I'd felt a thousand times when the three of us had cuddled up and watched movies or read bedtime stories.

"You remember?" Tim whispered, kissing the top of my head.

I sobbed once more. "I remember you," I whispered back.

The three of us might have stood there like that all day and I would've been perfectly happy, but eventually, Tim gently pulled away.

"So, you remember us. What else do you remember?" Tim asked.

Carmen still clung to me and I wasn't about to put her down, so I walked back around my desk and settled into my chair with her on my lap. Soon her arms loosened slightly and she was snoring softly.

"I remember... Our home," I said, squinting hard trying to recall details. "We helped build it! For some sort of program where we could reduce the price for helping with ours and others in the neighborhood."

Tim took a seat across from my desk where he sat back and propped his ankle up on one knee and watched me with dark brooding eyes. He nodded. "That's right. What else?"

"Hmmm... I remember my classroom! It had tons of windows. It was always so bright and sunny there. And it was right next to the school's office, so it was very busy. I think I was a... I was a... High school language arts teacher, wasn't I?! And you worked at the same school. You were a... Science teacher? Right?"

He nodded again. "You got it," he said. But his voice had taken on a slightly melancholy tone which I found odd, given the situation.

"Tim... Is there something specific you want me to remember? Can't you just tell me?"