Mine

I’ve always believed in fairy tales, and I’ve always dreamed of one day finding my prince charming, but one thing I’ve learned since the years of pig tails and Disney movies was that dreams don’t often come true; at least not for small town girls like me, or so I thought. The date was December the ninth, nineteen-ninety-one. I was eighteen turning nineteen then; young and beautiful, though I didn’t believe it then. I didn’t believe in much let alone myself, but as far as believing goes; my views on one well defined subject was changed one fateful winter afternoon.

I was wearing my favourite blue jeans; the ones with the stain on the shin and holes in each knee. The bell-bottom style had been in for a while, and I couldn’t seem to give up the first pair I’d bought one month earlier. I wasn’t much for fashion, and that would explain the long trench coat, and black high heeled boots. I walked down Queen Street, and headed for the post office.

The letter to my grandmother was snug tight in the pocket of my coat. I had been writing her for almost a year now. My grandmother, Verna, lived far away from the small town she grew up in; the small town I’ve lived my whole eighteen years; that same small town of Tilbury.

I looked both ways before crossing the intersection at Queen and Canal to the post office, and waved at the familiar faces seeming to grow older with each passing year.

“Hey there, neighbour.” The friendly old voice of Mr. Rogers rang. “Lovely day we are having wouldn’t you say?”

“Of course,” I smiled back.

“Tell your mother and father I said hello,” he said while handing out flyers to the passing towns’ people. “Ah Mrs. Thompson, looking lovely,” he greeted and then handed me a flyer on my way by. “The Christmas dinner is on the twentieth. You and your family should come by.”

I nodded and tucked the flyer into the other pocket of my coat. “I will be sure to tell my family about it. Have a good day,” I added and made my way up the steps of the post office.
When I opened the glass door a bell jingled and I rubbed my wet boots on the mat inside. Walking over to the counter I set down the letter to my grandma as Louise greeted me.
“What can I do for you today, Ms. Martin?” She asked with her smiling, dull brown eyes. Her snow-white hair was in its usual bun; no loose strands. Louise was a very particular woman, always having a plan for everything and very well organized. You would never find a mess near her unless it was a mess of organized books. She loved to read; romance being her favourite genre.

“I need two stamps please.” I said, and she handed me two postage stamps.

“Great weather we are having isn’t it?” she asked while looking out the tall windows over her silver rimmed glasses. Her eyes seemed to be fixed on something for a brief moment until she looked back at me and smiled.

“Actually I’m not much for the cold, but we are sure to have a white Christmas.” I handed her my letter and she rung in the price of the stamps.

“That will be twenty-five cents please.”

I handed her the change said goodbye and exited the post office. Once outside I took a moment to look around. It really was a wonderful day, not too cold, but still chilly enough to be bundled up. The street lamps were coated in snow and icicles, and kids were pulling each other on sleds; coming home from a tobogganing trip. It really was a wonderful sight. I breathed in the cold air and felt as it got stuck in my nose, and watched as the air escaped my mouth like a white fog then dissipate within seconds. I walked down the steps of the post office once more, and made my way back down Queen Street.

Looking down, I listened to the crunch of the packing snow underneath my boots and remembered my younger years when each winter I made a snowman in the front yard with my mother. I smiled on those memories. Those years when Snow White and Bell were the girls I dreamed of being.

I looked up just in time to see a young man’s eyes go wide before our collision. All I had to do was blink and hear myself groan to know I was on the ground.

“Are you alright?” The young man asked, looking down at me.

“Fine,” I said and stood up, not noticing his extended hand until I was on my feet again.

“I am terribly sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” he apologized, and then I noticed that he was carrying a bag with news papers inside.

“Hey, aren’t you–” I began to say, but was cut off by a car horn. I looked over and my mother was driving up town. She waved and smiled when I looked her way.

“Logan Knight,” he said, bringing my attention back to him.

“Yeah, you just moved here recently right?” I asked, and remembered seeing his face the last day of my high school life. He had just moved, and graduated with my class last year.

“Yes,” he smiled. “I didn’t catch your name.”

I laughed and held out my hand for him to shake, “Charlotte Martin,” I smiled and he took my hand. His grip was firm and soft, and when I looked into his eyes I caught my breath. It was like looking into a deep forest; playing hide, and seek in the dark green bushes. His green eyes blinked and the scene before me disappeared.

“I was just finishing my paper rout, but we should get together sometime, if you want.” He said; his gaze unmoved. I nodded in agreement, and he released from our handshake.

“How does Saturday evening sound to you?”

“It sounds good,” I smiled. “Is this a date?” I asked, feeling my cheeks begin to get hot. It wasn’t every day that I got asked out on a date by a cute young man. Actually, that would be the first time it’s ever happened.

“That depends,” he said; one corner of his lips creased up into a semi- smile. “Can you skate?”

“I can try,” I giggled at the thought of me falling on my butt.

“So it’s a date then. I’ll pick you up around seven on Saturday.” I smiled and we said our goodbyes. Then I walked home. Well, more like ran home and nearly cracked a heel off my boot in the process. I had to call June and tell her everything.

Well when I got home I couldn’t take my boots off fast enough before my mother greeted me with a huge hug. She had a smile stretched across her face, and instantly I knew what was coming.

“I saw you up town with a boy,” she nudged; obviously excited about the news I was just about to share.

“I have a date Saturday at seven!” I blurted, un-able to keep the excitement in any longer.

“I knew it!” She shrieked and giggled like a child. I told her how it happened and I could tell she was so happy for me. She went to the kitchen to put the kettle on and I called June. She was ecstatic and asked me when she was going to meet him.

“I mean he sounds cute but I’m sure he’s a heart stopper in real life, am I right or am I right?” she said on the other end of the receiver.

“He’s adorable June, you are going to be so jealous!” I teased, even though I knew June had her eye on someone else.

“Do you think he’ll ask you to be his girlfriend?” She asked in a more serious tone. To be honest, I never thought of him that way, at least, not until she brought it up.

“I’m not sure,” I replied, but my mind was elsewhere. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow at work though, bye June.” When she said goodbye I hung up the phone and headed to help my mom start dinner, all the while thinking about Saturday.