Winter Hearts

by A. E. Radley

I helped her pull a black duffel from the passenger seat, then we moved carefully up the hill, helping each other as we went. The snow was deep, loose, and crumbly and every step started another small slide. Finally, we reached the top.

  The road was splattered in heavy chunks of dirty ice and tall peaks of snow. A tree had fallen and tumbled its way across the median. More trees were down behind us. I brushed away the snow from the back door of the truck while keeping an eye on the ridge. The woman was shivering, but doing her best to help.

  Finally, we got the back door open. We both climbed inside, brushing as much of the snow from our bodies as we could before taking a seat on the platform bed. I pulled the door closed behind us. “We might be stuck here for awhile.”

  “Better in here than at the bottom of that hill,” she whispered as she looked around.

  Our eyes met in the dim light. Everything that had happened replayed in slow motion. I realized we both were shaking. “Are you hurt?” I asked.

  She looked down at her body as if it belonged to someone else. She patted her arms and legs, flexed her fingers, and then moved her neck gently from side to side. “I think… I’m okay,” she said, looking back at me. “Thank you for helping me.”

  I reached into the front seat and found my phone, but as I had feared, there was no signal. “It’s probably not a good idea to take a walk in this storm.”

  “Maybe the highway trucks will come by soon,” she said hopefully.

  We both stared into the dim chill of the truck as we sat crossed-legged on the cushioned platform. Beneath us were my tool boxes and metal scrap. Beside us was a long box that I’d built to house my tools and a few overnight provisions. It was designed to make nights away from home cheaper and more comfortable.

  “We have lots of water,” I said, pointing to the big insulated jug strapped in the back. I’d filled it almost to the top to help weigh down the back end in case of snow. I was glad that I had. I opened up the rubber bin beside me. “I have a summer bag and a thick winter bag. Are you cold?”

  “Yes, a little,” she said. Her teeth were chattering. Her voice sounded far away and I wondered if shock was setting in. I handed her the thick bag and helped her pull it around her shoulders.

  “Hey, I have a thermos of green tea. Would you like some?”

  “Yes. Thank you,” she replied.

  I squeezed between the seats and found the thermos down on the floor. I sat back and poured her a cup. “Careful, it’s pretty hot.”

  She sipped it quietly, closing her eyes when she swallowed. “This is nice, thank you.”

  I rummaged through the bin and found a battery-powered lantern. I switched it on and set it on the front passenger seat. I sat back against the tool bin behind me.

  She was beautiful. Her long black hair was gathered and draped down one shoulder. Her earrings and necklace were made of gold. The loose-knit angora sweater she wore was ripped at the bottom and ragged at her sleeve. She emanated the fragrance of essential oils. “It’s so quiet,” she said, listening to the road outside.

  “I know. It’s weird.”

  “Strange how we haven’t seen any other cars,” she whispered.

  I wondered if the slide had been worse behind us. “What’s your name?

  “Mimi Ling,” she said and held out her hand. “Yours?”

  “Brooke,” I replied.

  “So, Brooke, you have the perfect truck.”

  “Yes. I use it for work, mostly.”

  “What do you do?”

  “I’m a welder by trade. I mostly do custom work: commercial displays, furniture, gates and stuff. Some installations take me out of town. Sometimes I stay overnight.”

  “Where’s home?”

  “In Medford,” I replied. “I have a farmhouse with a studio a few miles out of town.”

  “It sounds nice.”

  “It has been so far.”

  “But you’re traveling alone,” she said after a pause.

  “Yes, I’m alone.”

  “You’re not married?”

  “Nope. I’m as single as it gets.”

  She smiled back at me. “That sounds ominous.”

  “Yes, well, a bad break-up will do that,” I said, leaning my back against the rubber bin behind me.

  “Mmm, yes. Been there,” she nodded.

  “You’re not married?”

  She held up her left hand. “Nope. Almost, but… no. I had to end it. It wasn’t right.”

  “That’s too bad,” I said.

  “Yes, it was. There was so much expectation around it.” She took another sip from her cup. “Where do you get your tea?”

  “Online. I buy it in bricks. Do you like it?”

  “Yes, I love pu-erh. My parents drink it all the time.”

  “I was drinking too much coffee. This helped me switch.”

  “It’s nice,” she said taking another sip. She smiled at me. “You know your Chinese tea.”

  “Well… I just know what I like,” I said. “Is that your heritage?”

  Mimi nodded. “My parents came here in the late seventies. I was born here.”

  “In San Francisco?”

  “Yes.”

  “Me too.”

  Mimi smiled. “Are your parents there still?”

  “They are, but they’re away right now. They do a lot of volunteer work.”

  “You don’t celebrate Christmas together?”

  “We do but not until January when they’re back.”

  “Where are they now?”

  I shook my head. “You know… I’m not exactly sure. Somewhere.”

  Mimi smiled at me. “Do you get back to San Francisco much?”

  “Sometimes for work. Otherwise, I tend to avoid it. My ex and I had an apartment there. She’s still there.”

  “Do you… talk?”

  “No. I’ve kept my distance. I had thought about calling her. It’s her birthday tomorrow.”

  “Christmas Eve,” Mimi said.

  I nodded, looking down at my hands. “I don’t know. It’s probably a bad idea.”

  I could feel Mimi watching me. “It didn’t end well?”

  “Nope. She didn’t come home after her staff Christmas party last year. She was sleeping with her co-worker, this skinny guy we’d had over for drinks a bunch of times.”

  “Oh dear. I’m so sorry.”

  “It was hard, but…” I tried to laugh it off. “It’s over. I learned my lesson.”

  “But you’re still thinking of calling her.”

  I nodded. “Maybe it sounds desperate.” Desperate wasn’t a comfortable place to be at any time of year. It didn’t feel like love at all, at least not the way I remembered love feeling; filled with hope and sparkle, but that was the last thing I felt when I thought of Melissa. I felt wounded; saggy, in a sort of wrung-out way. Even if she did say something nice to me—something that didn’t feel cold and superior—would it make anything better? There was no way to retrieve something that was gone forever, there were just more ways to lose it.

  Mimi was watching me, her eyes searched my face.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I’m talking about this.” I tried to laugh it off again.

  Mimi gave me a gentle smile. Her eyes were filled with empathy. “Do you want her back?”

  I didn’t even have to think about that. “Not at all.”

  She looked at me seriously and then smiled. “Was the sex really good or something?”

  I laughed again. “It was good, but… it’s not that.”

  Mimi leaned her back against the side of the truck. “I had a friend in college. She was fun and beautiful. She had a way of making you feel really special when she wanted to, but her mood could turn on a dime. If she gave you something, she demanded more from you each time until you were empty.”

  “Was she secretly a vampire?”

  Mimi laughed. “Maybe; there was something magical about her. For everything it cost to be close to her, there were times when it
actually seemed worth it. She’s quite famous now, actually.”

  I thought about what she’d said. “I don’t want my ex back. I know I could never trust her again. I just… want to have a different memory of our break-up, if that makes any sense.”

  Mimi sighed. “We are more than our memories. There is everything right now, and everything in front of us.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, that’s true.”

  “You know what I think?”

  “What?”

  “It’s winter and it sounds like you spend a lot of time alone. The holidays are a time when people naturally want to be with those they care about. It makes sense that you’re having these feelings now. Whether this woman deserves your love is a whole other story, but that doesn’t matter. This is about you and what you need at this moment. You want to give love and feel loved, that’s all. You’re human and that’s a beautiful and completely natural thing to want.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Give me your hand.”

  “My hand? Why?”

  “Just… give me your hand.”

  I held out my hand. She took it gently and looked down at my palm. She smoothed her fingers over the lines and creases.

  “Are you going to read my fortune?” I asked.

  “No.” She looked into my eyes and then smiled softly. “I want you to know how thankful I am to have met you, Brooke. You saved my life.” She kept hold of my hand, kept looking into my eyes for what felt like a long time. “It’s hard isn’t it?” she asked. “Just to be in another human being’s presence; it feels unsettling at first, but we all need it.”

  I laughed out of sheer nervousness but her eyes were sincere and kind. I felt her take a deep breath and swallow. I felt the urge to pull away, to laugh it off as too weird, to make some excuse, but I fought against it. There was nothing to be afraid of, there was only the burden of my sadness, the hollow of my loneliness, and the ache of how that felt pressed up against another woman’s skin.

  Holding the hand of someone I barely knew inside a cold truck while we were stuck on the side of a snowy mountain pass was more than I’d been ready for, but at the root was a beautiful and tender gesture, without expectation. I let myself fall into it, little by little, and felt my apprehension slowly release. The tightness in my throat loosened, the ringing in my ears quieted. I tried to focus without focusing, to stay with it while letting it lead the way. Soon, I forgot where I was.

  After a while, the corners of her mouth began to curl. She smiled at me and we both took a breath. “I forget what we were talking about now,” I said and laughed. The laugh felt more natural; my nervousness was gone. Her hand felt warm and soft. The tenderness didn’t feel out of place at all. I stroked my thumb over her skin and then let her go. “Thank you for that.”

  Her eyes shone in the glow of the lantern as she gave me a gracious smile. “I have chocolate in my bag. Would you like some?”

  “Yes, definitely,” I replied.

  She reached into her bag. “I always keep a secret supply of chocolate, even in the summer.”

  “That’s brave,” I said.

  “It’s in a Ziplock in case it explodes. That happened to me once.” She produced a clear plastic bag from inside her duffel and pulled it open.

  “That’s quite an impressive collection,” I said as she pulled a handful of different half-eaten packages out. “You don’t seem like a person that would have a secret cache of chocolate.”

  “I take a little bite and then put it away. Not every day’s craving is the same.”

  “We have similar tastes; I love this one.” I held up a half bar of dark chocolate with dried raspberry pieces.

  “That is beautiful. Have you tried this?” she asked, holding up another package.

  “No.”

  Her smile widened. “Oh, I just thought of a fun game. Close your eyes.”

  I closed my eyes.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Ready.”

  “Smell first. See if you can guess what it is,” she said.

  I caught the scent of chocolate under my nose and then the tangy notes of citrus and spice. “Mmm, orange and… cardamom?”

  “Good guess. Here,” she reached for my hand and placed a small square of chocolate into my palm. “That one melts really nicely. Just let it sit on your tongue.”

  I popped it into my mouth and held it gently on the thick of my tongue. “Mmm. It’s wonderful,” I mumbled.

  She had a piece too. “The smell of oranges always makes me think of Christmas.” She nodded to the back windows. “Our view is gone.” They were completely covered in snow again. “I wonder if anyone is coming soon.”

  “Are you warm enough?” I asked.

  “I’m okay right now. Thank you for the sleeping bag,” she said, pulling it around her shoulders.

  I knew the battery would keep the lantern going for a few hours, but after that, we would have to get comfortable in the dark.

  Mimi looked over at me. “Thank you for staying here with me.”

  “I wouldn’t have left you alone out there.”

  “I know but if I hadn’t stupidly got my sweater stuck and had been able to get out of my car faster, you wouldn’t have had to use the winch, I could have just said goodbye to my car and let it slide down the hill. You could have driven us both out of here and we could be sipping a glass of wine somewhere right now and laughing about it.”

  “Instead, you still have your car. I mean, yes, it’s under a foot of snow, but the highway crew will pull it out. We’re eating chocolate and sipping tea, and if we try, maybe we can still laugh a little.”

  “You’re right,” she whispered.

  “Besides,” I said, looking at her. “I don’t really drink.”

  She looked up at me. “Not even wine?”

  I shook my head. “I like wine but I decided it was best to stay away from liquor last Christmas after my break-up; it was just making me sad. After a year, I just don’t have the taste for it anymore.”

  “Ahh, I see. Well, tea is very good too.”

  “Should I make us some more?”

  “Can you?”

  I looked back at the ten-gallon insulated water cooler and thanked the fact that it wouldn’t freeze. “I have a little stove and a bag of pu-erh. We can make tea all night.”

  “Thank goodness you came so well prepared.”

  “Well, when you have a truck this big and a house as small as mine, it makes sense to use it like another storage room. This gear just lives in here.” I looked back at Mimi, her arms were wrapped around her knees. “Are you worried about them finding us?” I asked.

  She shook her head and smiled back at me. “No. I was just thinking again about how lucky I was.”

  I nodded. It had been a frighteningly close call.

  “And if you hadn’t been there,” she said, her voice trailing off. She closed her eyes and shuddered. “It was all way too close.”

  “Yes, it was.” I reached for her. “Give me your hand.”

  She looked down at it and then curled her fingers into mine. She looked up into my eyes.

  “It was really, really scary, but you’re safe now,” I said. “The highway trucks will come by soon. If not, we’ll go for a beautiful snowy walk and find a signal. We’re warm and we have everything we need. You have a friend and you’re safe.”

  “Thank you,” she breathed.

  CHAPTER 3

  I left Mimi inside the truck to make more tea while I stepped outside to clear off the windows. It wasn’t even lunchtime but the sky was still so dark that it seemed as if the sun was already setting. I couldn’t see anything in either direction but snow. I brushed myself off before climbing back in. Mimi looked up at me hopefully.

  “No highway trucks yet, but I cleared as much snow as I could so that they will see us the minute they roll by.” I lifted the lid of the bin beside me and scoped out what we had for food. “Two protein bars, a bag of tri-colored noodles, a jar of pesto, a
nd a can of smoked salmon. Also, a small tin of olive oil from Crete that I haven’t opened yet, but I think you’re really going to love this.” I held up a hot water bottle. “There’s enough hot water left to fill it up.”

  “How cozy!”

  “Right? We have everything we need.”

  She gave me a shy smile. “Are you tired?”

  I felt sore more than sleepy. I hadn’t slept well the night before but my mind still felt totally alert. There was still a long drive ahead even if they managed to get us off the mountain before dark. “I wonder if we should try to get some rest while we can.” We both looked down at the bed. Suddenly, it seemed very small. “Unless you want to have more tea and chocolate,” I added.

  “No, rest is probably a good idea,” she said.

  I refilled the thermos for later and poured the remaining water into the hot water bottle. “Here,” I said, offering it to her.

  She crawled under the winter sleeping bag, tucking herself off to one side and then lifted the bag for me. “It’s already warm from us sitting on it.”

  She was right; the bed felt cozy. I laid on my back and looked up at the roof of the truck. Mimi turned onto her side and looked at me. Her movement rocked the truck gently from side to side. The exterior was covered in enough snow that I could barely hear it tinkling against the metal. I hoped the highway trucks would see the four-way lights.

  Mimi handed me the hot water bottle. “Let’s go back-to-back; we can put this between us.” She flipped over and faced away from me. I did the same and wedged the warm bottle between our backs. We both got comfortable, finding places for our feet. I tucked the thick top bag under my chin and closed my eyes. I was tired. The air inside the truck was warm enough from our body heat that I figured we didn’t have to worry about the temperature dropping. I could feel the silence closing in around me.

  “Goodnight Brooke,” Mimi whispered.

  “Goodnight, Mimi.”

  It felt like I’d only been asleep for a matter of seconds before something jarred me awake; the sounds of rumbling in the distance; the sounds of engines. Mimi’s head popped up. “Is that… a truck?”

  We both shot out from under the sleeping bag and into the cold air of the truck. I pushed the back door open and was met with plumes of snowy wind. Though the light was still dim, the skies had cleared and I could see far down the highway behind us. Two trucks with wing plows were approaching, clearing snow and ice from the road. More trucks with flashing lights followed behind. Then, we heard the chopper.