Cold

Dead? That was not at all what I was expecting. I wasn't even sure what to say in response. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and waited. I wasn't even sure if I should look at him. Could I meet his eyes? What was going on?

I waited. Finally I looked over at him and the look on his face prompted my pity, and I broke.

"Dead?" I really didn't know what to say. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He began to nod slowly. "I think we should," he finally said.

"Do you want me to drive us home?" He didn't answer.

"Would it help if I asked questions, or shall I just wait?"

"You can ask," he muttered.

But where to begin? I wasn't even sure what to ask.

"Well," I began hesitantly. "Who was she? What happened?" I knew the questions were too broad, but I didn't know how to be more specific without being impertinent.

He didn't answer right away. He stayed motionless in his seat, but at last said "She fell through the ice."

"Oh, my gosh!" I whispered.

And then he was just talking. "I saw her when they finally pulled her from the water. She was like a statue. Her eyes were still open and there was nothing in her face that read "peace". She was in agony. I remember hearing her screams through the ice as the current swept her under. She was no where near the thin ice that she fell through. She died, panicking to get out, stuck under a thick layer of ice that we couldn't break through. I don't know whether she drowned or froze to death."

On the word "death" his voice cracked and he stopped talking. I could hear him swallowing. I glanced over at him and he was biting his lip. I could tell he was working hard not to cry.

"It's okay," I said softly, trying to invite him to cry if he wanted to.

"No! It's bloody well not okay!" he cried, and I recoiled. I knew that he was just trying to hide from the memory and hide from his own pain and that he was not mad at me. But being angry was easier than being sad.

"I didn't mean that!" I said.

Silence fell between us again as he sniffed slightly and shut down.

At last I ventured another question.

"Do you want to talk about it more?"

"Only if you ask the questions," he said. "I can't offer any information."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because it's too bloody hard to talk about!" he said, his voice becoming elevated again.

"We don't have to talk about it," I assured him. "If you don't want to talk about it, we don't have to at all."

Silence again.

I looked over at him as he sat there chewing his lip. I couldn't tell if he wanted me to ask him questions or if he wanted me to leave him alone. We hadn't been dating that long. I guess that's why he had never brought this up before. It definitely explained why he was reluctant to go to hockey with me. But he had come so many time with me before and never said a word. I thought he was enjoying himself. I mean, I could tell he didn't love it, but he had been a willing participant. This was the first time I felt like I had dragged him against his will. And now I was wondering what it was about this time that had triggered him. And I still didn't know who she was. I wanted to ask so many more questions, but I felt like it was for myself; I only wanted to ask questions so that I might know what was going on. What could I say or do for him? I didn't even know if it would help for him to tell his story or to be left alone.

I shivered, and realized how cold it had gotten in the car as we sat there in this random parking lot. But the shiver was about more than the chill on my skin.

I turned the key in the ignition and Laif looked up.

"Are we going?" he asked.

"I just wanted to heat the car back up," I told him. "But we can go wherever you like."

"I'm sorry I made us late for hockey," he muttered.

I turned to face him. "Look," I said. "Hockey doesn't matter. I'm not going to hockey tonight. What do you want to do?"

He reached over and grasped my gloved hand, but said nothing. I squeezed it back, wishing I could do more.

One Winter's Day

They were like two little children; laughing and teasing. His face lit up as she skated around him, her smile as wide as his own.

"Marta, your nose is as pink as a berry!" he laughed, tugging one of her braids.

She skated to a full stop to face him. "Then warm it for me!" she laughed and rubbed her nose against his.

He held her for a moment, looking into her eyes. "I love you!" he said, before wrapping her in a warm hug. She nestled under his chin, feeling safe and warm.

"I've never felt more loved," she said. She could feel the engagement ring on her finger which he had placed there hours before. Her thick wool gloves concealed it from view, but she could feel the comforting band on her finger.

He took her hand and pulled her in to motion. As they skated along the frozen pond they couldn't help but smile at each other.

There was no one else on the pond that day to witness their shrieks of delight due to the weather. It was actually quite nasty out. The sky was a deepish gray spitting out intermittent sleet, but you wouldn't have known it from the way these two played. From their faces the sun shone and the clear blue of Marta's eyes was enough to brighten the day.

Laif couldn't have planned the weather. He didn't know it was going to be a day for books and fires. He had planned a special skating outing since he knew it was her favorite. So here they were, braving the nastiest weather of the year to skate. And they didn't care. Hot chocolate and reading aloud their favorite books by the fire would come later. For now they had to enjoy the outside world for what it was!

"Can't catch me!" Laif said, releasing Marta's hand and soaring along with a look of determination on his face. But Marta could. She was a better ice skater and he knew it. He loved her for her exuberance on the ice. She had never taken lessons, but she'd been on the ice all her life. There was nothing she loved more than to don her skates the moment the weather was cold enough. The wind and ice in her hair were life giving.

When she caught up to Laif he held out his hand and caught her so she circled around him, laughing the whole time. He brought her close again, grinning at the icicles in her braids, wanting to kiss the snowflakes off of her cheeks.

But she was too fast for him and pushed off getting a head start. He had a harder time catching her and she stayed ahead of him until her laughter slowed her down and he caught her around the waist and spun her around.

"We will raise our children on the water," she said as they stood looking out over the icy landscape, his arms still around her.

"And in the water in the summer," he said, almost pleading; for he loved the summer as much as she loved the winter. They were two complementary halves.

She laughed. "Of course!" she said. "The only way to tolerate the heat of summer is to be in the water! And besides," she said, kissing his cheek, "They wouldn't be your children if they didn't long for the sun on their curly heads."

"That's right!" he said, kissing her knit cap. "All of our little ducklings swimming along behind me in the summer and skating behind you in the winter."

"And we'll be skating alongside each other. Forever."

He held her tight, and the moment felt like a lifetime and not long enough.

She skated away from him and then twirled once before a terrific crack and she was gone from view, swallowed by the icy depth.

Hockey Skates

I knew he didn't like hockey, but I never understood why. I loved everything to do with winter, especially if it meant engaging with the elements to the fullest.

Cold? Why not freezing? So when it came time to don the old ice skates and hit the pond I was thrilled.

We were bundled up and heading for the car when he stopped halfway down the driveway.

"What is it? Did you forget something?" I asked, hardly taking the time to turn back over my shoulder to speak. I had my skates in one hand and my keys in the other. I was anxious to get going. I unlocked the car with a few excited beeps and hustled into the car throwing my skates on the back seat. Laif hadn't moved from his spot. This was unusual. I started the car to get it warming and poked my head out the still open door.

"Are you coming? What's going on?" He jolted as if he had been asleep and ambled toward my blue sedan.

Slowly he got into the car.

"Are you not feeling well?" I asked. "We don't have to go," I told him, my heart sinking at the thought of not making it to the ice tonight.

He shook his head. "I'm fine." He didn't sound it. I hesitated with my hand on the gear shift.

"What's going on then, Laif?" I asked again. "You seemed fine a moment ago."

"Natalie," he began as if he hadn't even been listening to me. I waited. "Natalie," he said again. Slowly, looking at his knees.

"Yes?"

"I told you about Mar, right?" He was still staring at his knees, fumbling with his gloves.

Mar? Mar? I was racking my brain for something.

"I don't think so. Remind me."

He looked up slowly to meet my gaze, but only held it for a split second. I think he has only looked to see that I was truly not following him.

"Marta?" he said, half a question.

I shook my head. I couldn't tell if he was really upset about something, but he seemed off. I couldn't pull out of the driveway without checking what was up.

"Can this wait?" I asked, anxious not to be late. Everyone would be there already and have picked teams if we didn't leave soon.

"Sure," he mumbled. I gave him a hesitant look before pulling on my seatbelt and looking over my shoulder to back down the driveway.

I glanced over at him a few times as I drove. He sat there silently. I was really torn now between hockey and my boyfriend. Something was wrong. He was never this quiet.

"Are you sure you're alright?" I asked.

"I'm sure I'm not," he finally admitted.

I was exasperated now. Was he wanting to talk or not? If he wanted to talk he needed to just say it and stop being mysterious. Should I pull over or keep driving? Was he just gonna sulk the whole drive? The whole time we were out on the ice?

"Are you feeling sick?" I asked. I'd rather deal with a sick boyfriend than whatever he was doing right now!

He looked over at me and then back at his knees.

"I'm not sick," he said. "Just... upset."

I was starting to get worried now. What on earth was his problem? Doubt and fear started to flood over me. I could feel the burning cold sensation on the back of my neck.

He was about to break up with me, I was sure of it. I pulled over into an empty parking lot, trying not to let myself get carried away before he'd even said anything, but my mind was racing now.

Had he ever mentioned a Marta to me? Was this someone he has met recently? Was I about to be replaced? A lump was forming in my throat as I feared what he was going to say next.

"You don't have to pull over," he told me.

I was having trouble speaking at this point, but despite the lump in my throat I mumbled that I thought this would be better. But he didn't speak and nor did I.

He continued to look at his jeans, unsure how to continue I guess. So I gave him a prompt.

"Who is Marta?" I asked, my heart squirming with the fear of what he would say. When he still didn't answer I added, "Have I met her?"

"No," he said. "You haven't."

"Okay?" I was completely lost and getting very worried at this point. He was about to tell me that he cheated on me. I was having trouble keeping calm. I was sure that he would soon be able to hear my heart beating out of my chest.

"And you won't meet her," he continued. "She's dead."