When It Snows

The second hand couldn’t move any slower. Emma stood, leaned against the counter of her store, waiting for clock to strike nine. She had been there since eight in the morning, and was needless to say, overly tired. Out of the three employees she had hired, the one who was scheduled to work called in sick and the other two were unavailable. She didn’t complain about it, she knew it was one of the drawbacks from being her own manager: having to work way overtime just so that the store didn’t have to close due to lack of employees. She took this in stride, but by now, her perfectly curled white-blonde hair had long become limp, and her make-up wasn’t quite as perfectly applied. She didn’t wait for the long hand to point to twelve before getting her belongings together. She highly doubted anyone would show up at this time anyways. Emma pulled on her long, red winter jacket and white gloves, followed by a white toque. Her high black boots hadn’t left her feet, although she had been planning on changing into running shoes when she had originally got there. It had just been forgotten. She already had her purse strap on her shoulder before the clock struck nine, and when it did, she didn’t hesitate to leave. She locked up as fast as she could. She was only in her early twenties, and night had fallen already hours previously. She may have thought that snow was pretty, but nothing prevented her from being always consciously aware of her surroundings.

The sidewalks were getting gradually more and more covered by the falling snow, and Emma walked carefully, worried about any ice that might be underneath. The temperature had significantly dropped since the sun had set, and she could already feel her nose turning red. She stuffed her hands deeper into her pockets, for her gloves weren’t doing the greatest job. She could see her apartment building just down the street, but the walk that would take only about seven minutes on a normal day took sometimes more than twice as long in the winter. Emma sighed, exhaling a cloud of fog. Some days just didn’t feel worth it. It felt like the same routine every day: waking up too early, spending an hour getting ready, going to work and spending a minimum of eight hours there every day without a single day off, then coming home to her empty apartment and whipping up something quick to eat. Even with the holidays around the corner, it still didn’t raise her spirits. Her family lived across country, and she didn’t have the time to go visit.

When she came to the walk up to her building, everything seemed to happen all at once. Her foot seemed to slide out from under her, and next thing she knew, her brain was shouting, ‘Oh God!’ as her body began to fall to the ground. As she tensed, it took her a moment to realize that she felt no pain, and an even longer moment to realize that someone had caught her from under her arms. She felt herself get hoisted onto her feet, and when she turned around, her face went red. There stood a rather tall man, with a good build that was noticeable even while wearing a winter jacket, fair skin, blonde hair and eyes so green that she could tell their colour even in the dark. His hair seemed even lighter beneath a black toque, and he was dressed impeccably, even in the cold, and his appearance was no less.

“Be careful,” he said as he stepped around her, “they never put enough salt on these sidewalks.”

Before Emma could even reply to what he had said, he had already disappeared inside the apartment building. She was confused to why he hadn’t waited, but then realized it was selfish of her to think someone would want to stand out in the cold with her just to make small talk. She sighed and entered the building on her own, thinking about the warm bed waiting for her.

The next morning Emma woke up to discover that she had fallen asleep in her clothes, and the window that she had opened slightly to neutralize the temperature in her typically overly-warm apartment had caused the whole place to feel like it was freezing. She hugged herself and walked over to the window to close it, only to see that it was snowing extremely heavily. She wasn’t looking forward to heading off to work, especially when she saw that neither the sidewalks nor the roads had yet to be plowed. When she glanced over at her clock, she was rather surprised to see it was eleven in the morning – she typically got woken up early to find out that yet again, someone couldn’t make it into work, or even better, they didn’t know what they were doing and needed her to come in. Instead of feeling relieved for being able to sleep in, she felt anxious about it. What if no one had showed up at all? She took a deep breath and decided to do her normal morning routine if nothing was wrong at all. Emma knew how silly she would feel if she rushed and nothing was wrong.

She arrived at her business only to discover everything was fine. After reassuring herself, she bade farewell to the employee, and had the urge to actually thank her for showing up. She resisted the sarcasm in her, and walked out of her shop… only to nearly walk into the man that she had met the night before. She felt colour rush to her cheeks, and was happy that she could blame it on the whipping cold wind. Emma smiled as he actually stopped in front of her, almost as if she was an old friend.

“Getting off work early or something?” he asked, politely. He stood there so confidently that one would think that he was standing out in very mild temperatures, rather than a practical snowstorm. The only giveaway to how uncomfortable he was the fact that Emma doubted he could stuff his hands further into his pockets than he was.

Emma shook her head. For a moment, she forgot she could even speak. She simply stood there staring at him before she shook her head and said, “No, I was just checking in… I own the place. I should probably get going though… it’s rather cold and…”

“You’re not going to come get some coffee with me?” he asked without even asking her previously if she’d like to.

This continued for the next few days, and as the days wore on, the snow continued to fall. Emma couldn’t remember ever seeing so much, but she didn’t complain, for every day she learned more and more about this stranger who she always seemed to run into it. She learned that his name was Desmond, and he lived a floor below her own in her building. She learned little things about him and larger ones as well. She felt an obvious attraction for him, which she hoped was mutual.

Emma woke up early one day with the sun shining through her window. It was now only a few days until Christmas day, seeing as how the next day would be Christmas Eve. It was her last day of work, and she was to work all day, seeing as how she had decided to give her workers an extra long holiday break. She felt happy, felt like she was ready for the day, excited about the prospect of Desmond visiting her.

However, after she got to work, he wasn’t there to greet her with coffee. He didn’t show up at lunch, either, and by mid-afternoon, she was left sitting next to her window, feeling disappointed. She knew she was acting pathetic, but she couldn’t help it. She knew that he couldn’t possibly show up every day, he did have priorities after all, but she couldn’t help but feel a little disheartened.

The next day, however, she still didn’t see him. She was expecting him to show up with coffee in hand, sit down at her table and take off his jacket in such a way that for some reason, she would find suggestive. But once again, she was disappointed. She felt rather silly for going to bed feeling like she was being ignored. After all, what did she expect? It was Christmas Eve. In fact, he had no doubt had decided to go visit family for the holidays. With that thought cheering her up slightly, she went to bed, knowing there would be no gifts awaiting her under the tree, but she didn’t mind. It wasn’t gifts that she wanted anyways.

Emma awoke to a breeze on her face. Confused, she sat up to realize that the window behind her was slightly open and snow was falling in gently. Looking outside, she couldn’t imagine a more perfect Christmas morning scene. A fresh, thick layer of snow coated the ground and covered up footprints and the dirty snow that driving caused. It was perfect, although she felt rather silly leaving her window open all night. She pulled herself out of bed, wearing a black silk nightgown. She ran a hand through her hair, which was still curly from the day before, but a little limp now from sleeping. She yawned as she opened her bedroom door, and then walked down her hall and towards her kitchen where she was intending on making herself a cup of coffee. However, when she got to the living room, there stood the man she was hoping for, but at the same idea she was repulsed by the thought of what she must look like. In his hands were the largest roses she had ever seen, but she hardly even registered them. Instead, she was fixated on his blue eyes. Emma wanted to run, to hide and cover up her scantily-clad body, but she couldn’t move. He was staring at her, too, with his lips curved upwards at the one side. He carefully placed the roses on the table, and then in two strides he was right in front of her. All her defenses went down. She didn’t care about covering up anymore, for she could feel his breath on her face. He placed his hands on either side of her face and pulled it upwards, then ever so gently brushed his lips over hers. Desmond went to pull away, but she wrapped her arms around his neck. His coat was still cold from being outdoors, but she didn’t care. She pressed her lips firmly on his. When he finally managed to move his face somewhat away, he whispered, “Merry Christmas.”

And she couldn’t have asked for a better one.