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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Love stories / Romance
- Subject: Love / Romance / Dating
- Published: 12/10/2021
Snowfall.
Born 1951, M, from Wilmington NC, United States.jpeg)
The sound was muffled. Not dull. Muffled. The flakes were huge and quickly piling up. Five inches on the ground already…another six to eight expected. He had been walking since the first few flurries dropped from the sky like wet little butterfly kisses. He could walk in the middle of the street since it was dark, and everyone had already done their first shovel. The Christmas lights on people’s houses and lawns muted just like the sound. Not dulled…muted. Leaving what were once bright lights with sharp edged beams rendered into Impressionist’s paintings of Winter. He loved it. Mittens, not gloves, kept his hands warm, and boots, not galoshes did the same for his feet. He kept walking.
*****
She was all of seventeen years old. Sure she had some crushes on boys. She even dated a few. Nice boys. Kind boys. Really tho, she would rather be alone. Her Mother told her to be careful. Walking alone in the dark as the snow fell wasn’t a good idea, according to her mother. She understood in a general way what her mother meant, but she trusted the cold and the snow to keep most creeps at bay. That thought made her smile. She stopped to let a few of the large flakes settle on her tongue. She loved that feeling. She loved the soft sound of deep snow over suburban life. She loved how the lights colored the flakes with twinkling suffuse light that made a gray/white that was warm and inviting. Not the sharp crystal clear edges of real white snow cold, deep cold, where snow couldn’t form, and people couldn’t walk around without purpose. She licked a few flakes from her lips and kept walking.
*****
He saw her first as a shadow fighting the wind. As she got closer he recognized that she was, like him, walking alone in the snow. Like him, she was keeping to the edge of the street and stepping up into the drifts when a lone car would drag by. Leaving behind a beam of light that made them feel like they were inside a crystal snow scene…just shake and let settle. She had on a blue jacket, a scarf wrapped snuggly around her heck. Ear muffs, and a thick head of hair (now cool enough to hold some of the snowflakes in it like glitter). She wore white mittens and boots that matched. Her head was bent, as she was heading into the wind and didn’t (or couldn’t) see very far in front of her. He smiled as he watched her leave unmolested footprints in the snow. She grew closer.
*****
She saw him in a quick glimpse between swirls of snow. He was taller than her, but not by much. He had a pleated puff upped jacket that he had pulled the collar up on. He was wearing small ski cap with his face exposed. His cheeks were rosy red and a little snot was frozen below one nostril. That made her smile. He must have been walking since the snowstorm started. He had on thick rubber boots like you see in pictures from the winters of the 1950’s, but the two top buckles were undone and his corduroy pants were shoved into the tops of the boots. Green pants. Very Christmassy -she thought. He was wearing bright red mittens. That told her two things. He was more sensible than most boys, and he had a Grandmother. And that brought a big smile to her face. Just before she bumped into him. So it was that smile melded with surprise that he first saw…and would never forget.
*****
“Oh! Sorry! I didn’t see you there. The snow blinded me.”
He held her to make sure he didn’t bump her into the drifts near the side of the road. Somehow, it felt right. He was unaware that her smile had blinded him already.
“I know. Isn’t it cool when you turn around and the wind is at your back. I mean how cool that feels? Like you can see again and it is twenty degrees warmer.”
She laughed. It was muted by the snow, but loud enough in his heart.
“Yeah, I was going to turn around by the creek and take the path over to the next street…and look at the lights and stuff.”
He was still holding onto her arms…facing her. She was looking up into his slightly frozen face, chilled on the outside, warming up fast on the inside. She liked being held. So she stayed put.
“Well, let’s do that then!”
“Okay. What’s your name?”
“Oh…oh…sorry. I am Stanley…I think I recognize you from my Chemistry class at School.”
She realized she did know him. The quiet boy in the back of the Class. The only one of them not paired up with a partner. It wasn’t his fault. There were an odd number of students…so he had a table to himself. She had nodded at him a few times. Cute, but not infatuation cute. One of those guys that escape notice because they don’t want any. The kind of boy where quiet is mistaken for shy. He was not shy.
“Yes, I am Debbie. Sorry you don’t have a partner in Chemistry.”
Stanley beamed like a small lit Christmas tree himself. A glow that comes with being noticed…in a good way.
“You noticed?”
She put both her arms up to hold his by the elbows.
“Well, you are kind of cute.“
The snow puffed in little swirls around their laughter. The snow fell harder. They had to get closer just to be seen.
“Well, you're kind of cute yourself.”
“Just cute?”
She was teasing …she thought. Really, she was testing.
He had wide eyes now, shiny. Hers matched as they widened in their own recognition of the moment…and they were shiny too.
“Beautiful really.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls you meet in snowstorms.”
This time their laughter shook the snow from their hair and his cap. Her hands tightened on his forearms, and his hands on her biceps.
“You’re the first girl I have ever said that to. Snowstorm or not.”
The words were warm and hung in the air surrounded by a wreath of muted breath.
Maybe it was the snow. Maybe it was the cold. Maybe it was an impulse. She reached up with one of her mittens to wipe away the frozen snot from below his nose. She giggled. He used his own mitten to clear the area around his lips. He didn’t know what was coming, neither did she. Only Nature and Love knew beforehand.
She gave her own lips a quick brush off of snow and any little shelves of frozen moisture. Then she leaned up and kissed him. Softly. Sweetly. Newly.
He pressed back with the same gentle kindness and a hint of wonder. Their arms reached around to press layers of material against slim bodies underneath. The kiss ended with a beginning. Her head rested on his shoulder as if it had always done so. His cheek leaned against her hair like an old friend. The snow fell heavier. A beam of light made them lurch to the side. The car cleared them by several feet, but the startle toppled them into the drift. Another giggle filled the air. Their second kiss came as natural as the first. Just as soft. Just as caring. Just as trusting. Then he pulled her up from the snow. They brushed each other off laughing as they shook like dogs to clear the snow the brushing might have missed.
He put out his hand with a mitten on it. She took her hand out of her mitten and shoved her hand into the space left in his. They walked into the wind. The path by the creek would allow them to get out of the wind. Then they would talk as they walked. Soft plodding steps muted by the deep snow. Lights reflecting off lawns to compete with the beauty of unseen stars surrounded them. Each step brought them closer, not to any destination, but to a future. Behind them, footprints filled with snow.
Ahead of them, muted sounds, sights, and lights, welcomed them. Later, they would wear mustaches made of whip cream and hot chocolate at her house. But only after one more cold lip kiss by her kitchen door- a kiss that was as warm as the cocoa.
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