The Night I Gave Thanks To The Snow

Romance appears at an unexpected time

THE NIGHT I GAVE THANKS TO THE SNOW

Staring out a mullion window at an unexpected blizzard, the painful memory of my mother's death reminded me of my hatred of snow.  Compounding my sadness is the realization that I was incarcerated alone for the weekend.  The only element of joy I felt at that moment was a prior decision to take leave from work.  I would not be among the many bustling to make it home before the roads become impassable.   

Residing myself to the monotony of boredom, I placidly entered the world of social media to connect with companions when the sound of frantic knocks on my front door capture my attention. 

Both curious and puzzled as to who it might be and the reason, I quickly opened to see a woman layered in snowflakes like a standing tree with caramel eyes sparkling in a flawless face that instantly made me forget the reason for standing at the door.     

"Hi.  Can I use your phone?  My car has a flat, and I don't have a spare.  Rushing...I left my phone at work," she said politely, in a cry for help, shivering. 

Standing as if I hadn't heard a word, my fascination came back to reality and feeling like a moron for hesitating, "Yes, of course, you can use my phone."  

Handing her a cordless phone, I left her to privacy in the decorative foyer and returned to the confinement of my open kitchen -- sitting on one of four leather cream colored high-chairs stationed around a Peru colored stonework table.  Watching the news, I saw pacing from the corner of an eye, and heard indistinct words. 

Then suddenly a loud shout, "Bye!"  

Not knowing who she's directing the word towards, I looked and saw her dialing again.  From my seat, I can feel her frustration growing with every failed attempt to reach a person on the other end.  So like a savior, I went into the hallway where she stood ambiguously and said, "I can give you a ride home."

"I cannot put that burden on you."

"It's not a burden...I was born to save a damsel in distress."

She grinned with a certain smile that seemed to identify me as a gentleman and kindly said,  "My friend has a truck.  He will pick me up. I'm waiting for his return call."

Interpreting friend to mean boyfriend, my wild fantasy thoughts running wild ended without a blaze of glory.  Brought back to the infirmity of my insecurity, I turned my attention to making her comfortable until her friend arrived. 

"Can I take your coat and hat?" I asked hiding the feelings of my ruined fantasy.   

"Yes...thank you," she said in a beauty that comes from every part of her.   

After hanging a brown wool coat and matching hat in the hallway closet, I asked, "Would you like some coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?"  

"Hot chocolate," she said with a smile.   

"Anything to eat?"

"No...just hot chocolate.  Thank you."

She joined me in the kitchen to drink the hot chocolate, and we watched the weather channel as we immersed in small talk.  But she couldn't hide her disappointment.  As the minutes went by, I could see her impatiently waiting for the expected call as her eyes locked on the phone that laid on the stonework kitchen table. 

"Can I use your phone again?"  

"Of course.  Feel free to use it without asking," I said, hoping no one would answer because I want to spend more time with her.   

Unable to reach her friend, road service, or a cab - she sighed with frustration. 

"Don't worry...you're in a safe place."  

She smiled apparently comforted by my words, and I handed my cell to FaceTime with family, so they could see she was safe. 

She looked at me as if to say I was her guardian angel.  I looked at her with the face of hospitality -- hoping to stay in her company a little longer.   

As she looked at me, I felt a vibe of attraction but turned away -- believing it to be only wishful thinking, and cravenly entered my sunroom to continue watching the news while she video-chatted at the kitchen table.  

A few minutes later, she joined me, asking questions as if I was a speed date.  I could feel her interest and attraction.  But was it my imagination?  Was it only wishful thinking?  I believed the latter and took her words as nothing more than a friendly personality. 

As we continued to converse on multiple topics, I gave freedom to my spiritual side and said --

"I don't believe in coincidences... the things people call coincidence is the hand of God moving in their life.  When you call a happening a coincidence, you fail to recognize God's presence, because God delivers all things."  
 
From her eyes, I could sense those words caressing her heart.  She looked giving me the impression that my inner soul marveled her.  But was it my imagination?  Was it only wishful thinking? 

The spirit of my manhood stood without a doubt.  But my lack of self-confidence as a man of flesh convinced me that my thoughts and feelings were coming from wishful thinking and imagination.  So I didn't enter the precious door a woman opens for a man of her interest.   

Afraid to mistake her gratitude for attraction and scare her away from becoming a friend, I pretended that I was only interested in a platonic relationship when my heart and mind wanted more.               

As the afternoon turned into early evening, the weather continued to worsen, and her friend hadn't arrived. 

"What time is your boyfriend coming?"    

"How do you know I have a boyfriend?"  

"The way you said friend earlier."

She smiled in a way that seemed to acknowledge me for having keen perceptions and said, "I'm waiting for his call...I don't understand what's taking him so long." 

The thought that existed on her face when she spoke those words reflected trouble in paradise.  I could feel her disappointment towards him.  But I wasn't looking for an advantage. 

"I'm sure he's struggling with traffic and the weather.  It's pretty bad out there.  How far does he have to come?"

"He's about twenty-five miles from here."  

"That's far.  Text him and let him know he can spend the night instead of driving back."

With, what appeared to be an enormous feeling of relief written on her face, she said, " Really!  Oh, thank you so much, that's very kind of you."  

She quickly called again, and his phone went into voicemail.  She left a voice message and sent a text --  and I could hear the sound in her voice how upset she was that she couldn't reach him and hadn't received a returned call or text. 

"I'm sure he's on his way."   

"That's not an excuse for not calling back.  It's been a couple of hours."   

"Maybe his battery died, or he's unable to get a signal."  

That comment appeared to remove some of the anger written on her face as I could sense she was considering the possibility.  Then, surprisingly, she asked, "Share your thoughts about a successful relationship?"

Allowing the spirit of my manhood to speak, I said --

"For a relationship to be enduring...it's a necessity to become friends before lovers, and to love and like each other." 

Her smile gave me the feeling of agreement and her face me gave me the sense that she was curious to know more.  But the phone rang.  It was her boyfriend. 

I left the room to allow privacy and seconds later heard an angry shout, "Bye!" 

Frozen in a moment of not knowing what to do or say - wondering about the conversation that caused her anger - she called me back into the room. 

"I'm sorry to ask this, but can I spend the night?" she asked in a voice that spoke a shyness, I had not seen.  
 
"Of course," I said without asking the reason, and hiding my joy.

"Thank you," she said in a grateful look that seemed to show the uncertainty of what to say next.  

Putting her at ease, I said, "I'm a good cook." 

She smiled and said, "I think I'm a better cook."  

Accepting the challenge, together we cooked dinner -- bonding as friends.  She didn't mention her boyfriend, and I didn't ask.       

As we ate, she talked about her love for the snow.  Then she said, "I feel you don't like the snow.  Why?"

Hesitant at first, I said, "My mother was killed last winter in a car accident that I blame on the snow.  Whenever I see snow, I see the killer of my mother."

With tears in eyes at the edge, I was in a sad state of mind when she quickly said, "Have you been to Miami."  

My mind immediately went to the sunshine and pleasant thoughts, and I said, "Yes, many times.  Miami is my favorite vacation destination.  How did you know?"

"I didn't.  Miami just came to mind. I've never been there.  Tell me about it."

For nearly thirty minutes I talked about my travels to Miami -- and I felt and saw a friendship grow during those moments as her expressions and words made it obvious.  With the natural inclination of a psychiatrist, she brought me into a relaxed state.  She must have seen the pain on my face when I thought about the snow and decided to take my mind to a happy place by shifting my thoughts from winter to summer.     
  
As we continued to engage in a friendly conversation, I saw the mind of a woman no man has discovered, and I sought to be the first. 

***

As the evening turned into late night, her glistening caramel eyes began wrestling with sleep.  Leading her upstairs to a furnished guest bedroom, I gave her my unworn black satin button-down pajama top trimmed with red silk, to use as a nightie.   

As we stood at the entrance of the guestroom, from her eyes, I could feel that she wanted me to kiss her.   But was it my imagination?  Was it only wishful thinking? 

Lacking self-confidence, I didn't seize the moment but turned away like a stupor...and went back downstairs like a dog with his tail between his legs -- frustratingly shaking my head and muttering to myself in disgust for the confidence and nerve that I am unable to muster. 

Sitting on a taupe microfiber sofa in a room encircled with open pane windows that gave beauty to the sight of falling snow, I was thinking about her -- listening to the live version of "Dinosaur" by Al Jarreau followed by "The Song of Solomon (Directors Cut)" by Kate Bush. 

Replaying the scenes from the first moment that I saw her...I was marveling at the inner beauty shining from the knowledge in her mind and the character of her heart when I heard her gentle footsteps sauntering down the hardwood stairs. 

My face went blank with thoughts on all sides.  But my eyes were firmly fixed on the entrance of the room without a door. 

With my ears following the ethereal sound of her footsteps that led to a dimly lit room, the sight of my pajama on a body so perfect in a look so seductive, I can never wear that garment. 

The spirit of my manhood took control -- and with eyes that spoke the definitions of love, I guided her body next to me, and fervently kissed her in the nerve and confidence of manhood. 

Looking into the essence of her eyes -- I felt her soul and said in all sincerity, "This is not a one night stand."  

Her soft voluptuous body collapsed into my caressing arms, and in an astride we embraced until the morning light -- imprisoned by the snow I despised. 

One year later, I married this woman who entered my life by the hand of coincidence.  Today is our 50th Anniversary.  Thank God for the Snow!     

    
     

Author's Note

Revised work from my collection of short stories in the genres of romance, suspense/thriller, satire, and drama. Hopefully I will receive a rating with the review.