Heather in Small Heath

Icy Intimidation

"Blow, blow, 

thou winter wind." ~ William Shakespeare

October, 2012. Pennsylvania.

The Rosewall Household sat in the back corner of a pine forest, tucked away from the world and the chaos that came with it. The small cottage was a hop, skip, and a jump away from an orchard field and, each time harvesting season came and went, the Rosewall family would always head towards the trees to fill numerous baskets with apples.

'Not like anyone will miss them,' Mr. David Rosewall had told Heather during her first "harvesting season" with the family. 'And Louisa makes a mean apple pie. Can't go missing that, now.'

He had chuckled softly then, his brown eyes twinkling with mirth as Louisa, his daughter, had merely grinned over at her father. The eldest child of the Rosewall family had held a large, wicker basket on her hip, and her long, dark hair had been braided down her back. Theo had walked over to his sister to place more apples inside her basket, and Heather had watched as the light of the setting, October sun had danced upon the dark curls of the two siblings picking apples together.

That light from about six years ago was the same one that now came through the windows, caressing the faces of the three young adults who were peeling apples from that year's family harvest.

Taking in the smell of the apples and candles from around the house, Heather felt her concern towards Sera's sudden lack of communication melt away for the time being. She always found it difficult staying stressed in that, as the house itself was stunning.

But the people inside of it were even more so.

It all started when Natalie Rosewall, mother and caretaker of the family, had wanted a cottage in the woods with a beautiful garden outside. So, board by wooden board, Natalie and David had built their future home from the ground up. They had poured their love and care into the flowers, fruits, and veggies from their garden, and they had continued to do so even while their 'garden' grew bigger, with little feet that would run around the cottage floors.

As the years went on, the fruits of their labors were displayed in the lives of their children. Each child had grown up, feeling as if there was nothing they couldn't do if given enough time or effort. Those kids passed on that belief to the friends that they had made throughout the years, and the Rosewall family had made a name for themselves over time as being the type of family people wanted to be around.

But, most importantly...

'They were happy,' Heather had thought the first time she had visited the Rosewall home, looking at the many different pictures on the wall, all of which had been taken throughout the years. 'And they are even more so now.' She had mused, looking around at the laughing family.

One other thing Heather had noticed about the home was that there was hardly ever a day when she would come to visit and there wasn't music being played by one of the brothers or by the record player in the corner of the room, so the strum of the guitar being played peacefully in the room by Taylor, Theo and Louisa's youngest brother, was not an uncommon occurrence. Heather watched the young man pick at his guitar absentmindedly, and she marveled at the skill he needed in order to play like that and not accidently catch his long, curly hair in the strings.

Theo's shoulder lightly brushed against Heather's while he placed a freshly peeled apple in the pot, and she focused back on her job of peeling apples with her friends. Heather glanced to the side where the eldest Rosewall brother sat, peeling apples with his pocket-knife. He wore a white, long-sleeved shirt and had it unbuttoned low enough to the point where she spotted a spattering of freckles on his chest. Theo suddenly pushed his brown, curly hair from his forehead, grabbing his circular glasses from his face to clean them. In the process of that, he caught Heather's stare and gave her a curious look back.