In Shay Alden’s youth, he loved the snow. The first signs of winter were a joyous occasion, with Christmas and his birthday just around the corner and a veritable wonderland to play in and explore as a child. The thought it would be anything but fun and games was inconceivable, and he could never understand why his parents hated winter.

Years later, as the first winter fell when he fought in the Great War, he soon would discover that winter was a frigid, wet, and miserable existence that claimed lives like a great reaper, descending upon the trenches and taking those too weak to resist its bite. Come his 19th birthday on January 14th, 1917, he prayed for death that never came. By February, he thought he would never feel warm again. 

And so, as Shay and Vera left the Tawdy and the winter storms began to coat the streets, Shay was tense and careful in his drive. He did not wish to get in an accident, for starters, and the deceptively harmless-looking snow was a grim reminder of all too much death. His throat was tight; he needed a damn drink. By the time he rolled to a stop and turned off the car, he let out a relieved sigh. It was not an experience he cared to go out into again right away.

As he moved to open the door for Vera, he was stricken by how well-off the neighbourhood was, the affluence seeming to belong more to theater stars and singers than to people of their stature who struggled to make ends meet. It seemed more like a high-end hotel than somewhere people lived, and as he escorted Vera through its pristine and spotless hallways, he felt nervous to touch anything, as if he’d somehow corrupt it all. 

Shay certainly shared in Vera’s excitement when they reached the door that would make or break Vera’s impression of her new home. The door swung open, and Vera’s gasp was certainly an appropriate reaction. Shay let out a low whistle as he followed her inside, carefully removing the dress shoes that were still on his feet and leaving them on a shoe rack to the side of the door. He could scarcely believe his eyes; he knew, but never realized, people’s homes could be this nice. Electric lighting and fixtures. 

Vera’s voice came from one of the side rooms Shay had yet to explore, he called back, “Absolutely stunning, I’m afraid of mucking anything up…” he was saying as Vera poked her head around the corner, suddenly asking if he wanted to stay the night. This caught him off guard, especially since he was not expecting to be sharing a roof with Vera again, especially so soon and off assignment. “I… of course!” he said suddenly, acutely self-conscious that he might have come across as too eager. “I mean, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble. If you’d like, I could go out and get some things for dinner… and I imagine there’s some things at your old place you may want, I could always go back and get those for you.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ll have to excuse me; I’m talking ahead of my manners. If you would like me to stay, you need only ask. I seem to have forgotten a housewarming gift.”