Seamus O’Donnell has loved Mine for many lives, and he can remember most of them. Unfortunately for Seamus, Mine can’t remember a thing, and Seamus can remember every little detail except how to act when he’s around Mine. All the passion they had before, now seems to turn into awkwardness.
Mine keeps having dreams about Seamus. Hot dreams. Weird dreams. Dreams that he’s blue. Even though he knows he knew Seamus before, for the life of him, he can’t remember how, and no one will tell him a thing. As much as he desires the gorgeous man in front of him, Mine can’t be sure that it’s a mutual thing, and he doesn’t plan on getting involved with anyone until he knows what’s going on.
When on Winter Solstice they find themselves trapped in a cabin alone in a blizzard, things get more than a little intense. As they battle weather, nature, and a plan that seems like it could only be designed by the ancestors, they wonder if this is just one more life time keeping them apart, or if they might finally be reaping the seeds of love?
Mine pulled out a chair for Seamus and Seamus sat in it, wondering if he should read anything into the gesture. Don’t take your pants off, Romeo. He’s just being nice, Seamus thought.
Mine sat across from Seamus, and filled two bowls with soup from one Thermos, while Seamus filled two cups with coffee from another.
“They added sugar and cream,” Seamus noted.
Mine smiled. “They do a lot for us.” Mine looked down, and then up again, meeting Seamus’s eyes. “I’m really lucky to be with your family.”
“We’re really lucky to have you,” Seamus said, wanting to say so much more.
“Yeah, well, I don’t know that I contribute a whole lot,” Mine said.
“You’ve done a great deal for my family, and ... and for me.”
“So, Ernie said I knew you before?”
Seamus hesitated. The doctors had said that anything too shocking could damage Mine. All of it was shocking, Seamus thought. Every life we live together, even this one.
“Yeah, I did,” Seamus said, hoping Mine wouldn’t pursue this line of questioning too far, but also desperately wanting him to. Why can’t he just remember?
“None of you really talk about it with me.” Mine said the words and then looked down at his food.
“The doctors said that ...”
Mine looked up again. “I know, I know. The doctors said that telling me anything traumatic might be harmful for me. Was it really that bad?”
Seamus gazed at the innocent look on Mine’s face. “It was that good.”
Mine took a sip of his soup, and then his coffee, and then spoke again. “So, then if it was all good, you could probably tell me all about it.”
Seamus hesitated. “Sometimes, you have to go through some rough stuff to get the good.”
“How rough?” Mine asked.
“Rough.”
Mine went back to his soup and coffee, then he reached into the basket which still lie on the table. “There are some sandwiches here too,” he said, passing a cellophane wrapped sandwich to Seamus.
“Thanks.” Seamus accepted the sandwich, and wondered if the conversation was over.
Mine took a bite of his own sandwich. When he had finished chewing it, he looked at Seamus again, that same innocent look on his face, but with a bit more drive than before.
“So, I know you’re not supposed to tell me about the rough stuff, but just tell me about the first time we met. Did I meet you, or your family first?”
“You met me,” Seamus said, a smile appearing on his face, as he pictured Mine then.
“And it couldn’t have been all rough,” Mine said.
“I had cancer, and ... well, you helped me through it.”
“I helped you through it?” Mine asked. “What does that mean? Did I drive you to the doctor’s office? Was I your nurse?”
Seamus hesitated, and then looked at Mine intently. “You made me feel alive when nothing else did.”
It was Mine’s turn to hesitate. “So, we were friends?”
“We were a lot more than that, Mine.”
