The snow covered the ground in the twilight and everywhere flakes filled the air falling so gently, so softly, so indifferently. The porch lights of cozy houses twinkled and everybody else in the world, warm behind their curtains and shades, moved slowly around familiar rooms, dinnertime.
Roses ran steadily on, her mind echoing her heart with incoherent, garbled, half-thought screams of protest, "NO!! CAN'T BE!! GOD PLEASE!!... IT'S A BAD DREAM!! MAYBE A DREAM"
"Hi Mrs. Geiss!" a young husky voice sang out. "Hi Mrs. Geiss!" chimed a second child, his voice flat and obedient-sounding. Shadowy in the fast-fading light, two boys, friends of Rose's younger son, were wrestling and tossing snow at each other in the front yard of Carl, the bigger one's, home. Rose was momentarily deeply charmed by the little display of boy high-energy, happy in this Christmas-time snowfall. "Hi Guys!!" she returned, lovingly and enthusiastically.
Through the dark blanket of hurt, the shards of searing pain -- in spite of which she had decided to get outside, to get some air, to let it be and to jog -- had come a little joy, like a sliver of sunshine, breaking up what only one moment ago felt like an apocolypse.
"and that's what healing is," she was thinking to herself, as an old red and white Ford pickup truck passed her and then pulled over to the curb.
Out hopped a man, wearing an out-of-style down vest, jeans, and a boyish, impish grin. He looked like a cross between Kurt Russell and John Travolta -- in a word, cute... and somehow reminiscent of a previous lifetime. He bounded through the curtain of snow against the darkening evening toward Rose, who slowed to a cautious walk, presuming he was lost and wanted directions.
"Hi!" he said, "I've noticed you jogging around here before. Um, I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me sometime!" He said this with a winning smile, looking extraordinarily cute and boyish and ..... fun!
Shocked, Rose immediately reflected on her appearance which had been absolutely the last thing on her mind upon leaving the house. She had pulled her older son's winter hat (Homer Simpson, "D'OH!") over as much of her head as possible and the rest was mis-matched-whatever! In a split-second reflex, the thought that she couldn't possibly have looked worse dismayed her.
"Well, I'm married," she stuttered, noting to herself that she'd completely forgotten this -- being 'asked out'. The past thirteen years had been nothing but a progressively-deepening, busy mesh of pregnancies, babies, childcare and an ever-so-much-less-than-satisfying marriage -- "but thank-you so much! I would certainly consider it if I weren't married. Thank-you very much," she repeated, now feeling sincerely appreciative, but firm.
And then he was off, and she watched the tail-lights of his pickup truck through the snowflakes until they couldn't be seen anymore. And then she said, "wait"...
Nostalgia!! He had looked like a dusty, aging version of the boys of her childhood, as if some heartthrob from the 70's, along with his pickup truck, had been put on a shelf, collecting a little dust until this particular moment. And of all moments, why this one!
The extraordinarily shocking, tragic news she'd been given only one hour ago, was almost forgotten for the moment. Rose thought about Eric, her husband, all seriousness, practicality... Eric, who never smiled, never laughed and had developed a positive penchant for punishment. She couldn't help thinking about Eric, because right now, she wished more than anything in the world that she could have hopped right in the passenger seat of that red pick-up truck with a very cute man whose step was lively, whose smile sparkled, who was mischievous and boyish --and driven away. For even one hour. For even five minutes.
Rose walked over to the little park down the block. The whiteness covered everything now, all was still. The snow fell gently, slowly and the sky had become dark. At home, the kids would be hungry, Eric would be wondering why dinner wasn't ready. The kids would be noisy, Eric would be irate. Rose wandered a little way into the snowy park and then gave in to a sudden longing to just lie down on that freshly fallen snow blanket and rest. It felt good, she was still warm inside from jogging. She looked up, and everywhere, millions and millions of snowflakes drifted down, slowly, gently and indifferently against a black sky.
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