Eva's Sins.

LIX

„Life isn't like we want to be. Life has its own plans"

  „It's cold outside, Moon. It's so cold," Beth murmured while standing in front of the window and watching the rebellious drops of rain that were paddling in the windowpane as if they were the fingers of an invisible or mystical person. „And there's so cold in my soul too," the girl sadly said while her hand was calmly caressing the warm and silken fur of the cat, who was stuck to her chest, looking not only for bodily warmth but also for a spiritual one.

  A crack inside of the stove, enough strong actually, of an oak tree, well dried over the summer, made both of them wince and they right away turned their head toward the stove, at whose door, hungry tongues of fire were surrounding that oak log that was too stubborn to allow to be burnt. But... as happens with the water: nothing can't also stand in front of the fire and, so soon, the log started to burn, filling the room with a pleasant scent of burnt wood and warmth.

  „Put some more wood on the fire, Beth," Mrs. Alice told the young girl when she appeared in the living room, supporting her body on the cane, made from beechwood and colored in black. „Let it vividly burn... because it's quite cold during the night already, even if it's only late October. Let it be at least warm in the room if it isn't in the soul. One or two more logs on the fire will bring some happiness around. Especially for those numb with cold travelers that might appear all of sudden," the old lady at random murmured. After this, she sat down on the armchair that was right in front of the stove and she wrapped her tender and tired body with the thick shawl off her shoulders.

  Beth said nothing: she only bent and let Moon on the floor. Then she took a few steps toward the stove, but she didn't hurry to put more wood on the fire, even if she had heard Mrs. Huntington's order because it was too soon to put more and an „I just fed that fire, Mrs. Alice. I'll put more wood when those logs, that are on the stove now, will be already burnt," has been whispered in a half a voice.

  As if she just spotted that the stove was full to overflowing, Mrs. Huntington sketched a bitter smile: „eh, you're right. How I didn't notice it?! It seems that I grow old," and again her lips, with visible, deep wrinkles drawn at the corners, moved a little bit, melancholically smiling - a smile that once subdued a lot of hearts because Alice Huntington had been once a rare beauty, but life and humans kneeled her down worse than the sickness.

  But she right away turned back to reality from her sudden daydream when Moon jumped on her lap, looking for comfort because the old lady's gnarled hands, which were slowly moving through her black fur, made her often purr a real ball of cattish pleasures while her eyes, of abyssal darkness like her fur, were sparkling in the night, more vividly when the room was washed in semi-shade and then, when the fire became more alive in the stove, dancing their strange dance of flames, the black and small eyes of the cat seemed real burning embers.

  „Mrs. Huntington, do you think Eva will be back soon?" Beth dared eventually to ask, after fighting with her inner demons for minutes in a row, feeling a suffocating pressure in her chest due to doubts if to ask it or not. „It's more than a month since she left London and she's still not back. It had to be only days, but..."

  „Life is not like we want to be, Beth. Life has its own plans."

  „Plans? What are you referring to?"

  „To everything and at nothing concrete. I just think that life is unforeseeable and problematic sometimes, and make us be its slaves from the moment we're born. But even so, we love it even more than our own soul," the old lady said with a lost glance while staring at those playful flames from inside the stove, looking in fact there for a past that will never turn back. „And yet, Beth, she'll be back. The question is if she turns back with gladness or with sadness in her soul."