by Kris Calvert
“Nice tractor,” Mimi said.
“International Harvester.”
“I’d never peg you as the farming type, Cecil—as well-bred and all as you are.”
I hung my hands on my hips, catching my breath. “Just because I’m educated and appreciate the finer things in life, don’t assume I’m not a man’s man.”
“Don’t worry.” She bit her lip and smiled. “I think you’re all man, Cecil Winterbourne.”
I didn’t know where her comment came from, but I appreciated her confidence in me and I puffed my chest out a little more, watching her eyes focus on my arms straining against the pile of wood I hefted before setting it down on the sled.
Filled with a little more testosterone and a lot more pride, I found myself hauling heavier loads until the sled would no longer hold another piece of kindling.
Turning, I found my extra flexing falling on blind eyes as Mimi rummaged through a wooden box.
“Look what I found.” Her face was bright with childlike mischief.
Holding a pair of ice skates in her hand, she smiled and gave me an exaggerated nod of approval. I could see the plan in her eyes even as the wheels turned in her head.
“Is the pond frozen enough to skate?”
I shrugged. “I’d have to check. You really want to ice skate?”
Mimi nodded, pulling a second pair of men’s skates from the box.
“Bring them here,” I said with a sigh.
Mimi nearly danced her way back to me and I knew no matter what, I was taking her skating. It didn’t take much examination to know both pairs needed to be sharpened. “Give me a second to fix these.”
“They’re fine,” she replied, taking the women’s skates from my hand to kick off her boot for a quick try.
“Look,” she said sliding her sock foot into the heel of the boot. “They are a perfect fit. It’s a sign.”
“Look.” I said mocking her and holding the other skate for her inspection. “It’s rusty as hell. It’s a sign all right, a sign they need to be sharpened.”
Hobbling on one skate, she walked through the barn to the grinder in the corner used for sharpening the blades of the tractor’s mowing deck. “How do you turn this thing on?”
“Whoa there,” I said walking to her.
“C’mon Cecil. You said I could do anything I wanted today and this is what I want to do. When will we ever have the chance to skate on the pond at Christmas in the snow?”
“Honestly? Next year.”
She cocked her head, looking up at me with her beautiful eyes and a pout she knew damn well I couldn’t resist.
“Fine,” I said with a protested sigh.
“Yes!” She hurried back to the sled with an excited skip in her step to where I’d left the other skates and returned, handing them to me in a pile.
Sparks flew when the grinding wheel met metal and I sheared off the top layer of rust and dirt while Mimi stood by, watching intently.
“Here you go, darlin’,” I said handing her the ladies’ skates. “I’m afraid now that I’ve sharpened the blades, we’re going to be on our butts more than our feet.”
“C’mon,” she said, threading her cold fingers into my warmth. “It’ll be fun. You’ll see.”
Instinctively, I brought her frigid hand to my mouth and blew into it. “You’re freezing.”
Her nose was pink and her eyes glistened with water from the wintry air as I held her hand to my mouth. Looking down on her, I captured her gaze, pressing my lips to her fingers—prolonging the kiss as long as she’d allow it.
“Mmmm,” she moaned, still staring through me.
I took both of her hands and held them close to my chest, kissing each one before pressing them against my body. “Let’s get you inside.”
She didn’t say a word, only nodded.
Mimi opened the barn door for me and I pulled the sled across the deep snow and up the embankment that led back to the lodge. It was a struggle, but I’d be damned if I was going to act as if it was anything but a walk in the park.
I positioned the sled near the back door, tying it off in case it wanted to make a quick getaway, but keeping it near in case I needed to go back for more firewood.
I carried an armload into the house, only allowing Mimi to carry the smaller kindling. Promptly starting a fire, Mimi hurried around the lodge, going from closet to closet until she was satisfied with the mittens, hats, gloves and coats she’d gathered. When she popped out of the hallway closet in one of my mother’s furs, I had to laugh.
“Do you think she’d mind if I borrow this today?” Mimi asked twirling in a circle.
“She’s never going to know.”
“That’s right,” Mimi said with a laugh. “Because what happens at the lodge stays—”
“At the lodge,” I said, joining her in unison.
Taking her by the hand, I hung our skates around my neck for the short walk down to the pond. We were a few steps off the front porch when I realized how thankful I was for the huge snowshoes we both had strapped to our boots.
“What happens if we get to the pond and it’s covered too?” Mimi asked.
“I’ll shovel off as much of it as I can. Not only for us to skate, but to save the fish. The snow will keep the sun from shining through the ice and could kill everything off.”
“And the truth comes out. You’re only here to check on the fish, not indulge me.”
“I care more about holding your hand and skating around the pond than I do the damn fish,” I said with a laugh.
As soon as I said the words, Mimi took my hand in hers as we trudged down to the pond.
“Yeah,” I said, lacing our gloved hands together. “Just like that.”
Once we arrived, I shoveled an outside ring, making quick work of the eastern facing side of the water. I tested the ice with my pocket knife to make sure we had an adequate layer to skate. The western side was less stable. “As long as we stay over here, we should be fine,” I explained, giving her strict guidelines of where she could and could not skate.
“You’re a killjoy. You know that?” she said. “And you’re bossy.”
“Just listen to what I’m telling you. Stay on this side and you’ll be fine.”
We sat on the small bench fashioned from two tree stumps and a large plank to change from our boots into the skates. “Be careful,” I warned. “The blades are sharp.”
“Mine are perfect,” Mimi said with a smile, as she stood and began to glide about the pond. There was a small layer of snow on top of the ice leftover from my quick shoveling job and the flakes that continued to fall.
“I’d rather you wait for me, Mimi,” I said, as I laced my skates as quickly as I could.
“And I’d rather you stop telling me what to do!” she shouted over her shoulder as she skated dangerously close to the weaker side of the ice.
“For the love of God, woman. Can you follow one order? Please?”
“Hush that handsome mouth of yours and get on out here and skate with me.”
I tied up my last lace, pushing off from the bench to join her in the middle of the pond. Colliding into her, I reached for her hand, nearly taking us both down.
“Holy cow, Cecil. Don’t you know how to skate?”
I said nothing, but hugged her tightly while regaining my balance and composure. “Of course,” I whispered into her. Peeling back the wool scarf from her neck, I planted a slow kiss just below her ear and felt her skin erupt into goose bumps at my touch. Taking her hand in mine, I took my time pulling away from her sweet smelling skin, finally looking her in the eye. “I just wanted to do that.”
The snowfall turned from small flakes to big, the white icing resting on her shoulders like guardian angels watching over a precious treasure. I wrapped her hand around my arm and pushed off with the toe of my skate. She followed suit.
“Do you hear that?” she asked.
I listened for a moment. There was nothing but the sound of our skates scrapi
ng across the rough ice. I shook my head. “I don’t hear anything.”
She stopped abruptly, dropping her hand from the crook of my arm to skate away. With a quick turn she stopped, sending ice flying. “That’s what I mean. It’s silent.”
“The snow absorbs some of the soundwaves. And the rest is just the quiet of the woods.”
“Is this why you wanted to come to the Lodge alone? To be in the quiet?”
I gave a half-hearted shrug. “I figure where I’m going I won’t find a lot of alone or quiet time. I wanted to—”
“What?” she asked, skating backwards without looking behind her.
“I wanted to sort of take stock of my life. What I’ve done, what I want to do—if I make it back.”
“I told you,” she said, stopping abruptly to waggle a finger in my direction. “Don’t say things like that.”
“I don’t want to say it. But I think I at least owe it to myself to contemplate my future. God only knows what could happen to me, Mimi.”
“Exactly.”
I skated closer to her, taking her hand and pulling her away from the west side of the pond. “You’re making me nervous. Skate over here with me.”
“See, Cecil? This is part of your problem. Do you see me? I’m not in control of my life. I’m just a passenger. You are just a passenger. We are both just along for the ride and the sooner you believe that, the faster you’ll come to know that life isn’t about choices. It’s about chances.”
“I think you’re wrong,” I said, skating away from her.
“Oh really?”
“Yes. It’s about both. It’s about making good choices but still taking chances.”
“And what if you make bad choices and never take a chance?”
“Then I guess that’s what you’d call a wasted life, right?”
“You just described my life,” Mimi said.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re too young to have made bad choices and furthermore, I know you better than you think I do. You’re a risk taker, Mimi. You take every chance you get.”
“Well…” she said, dragging out the word as she skated in a perfect figure eight. “That’s the thing. I talk a good game—Lord knows I can do that. I see things I want, I know what I want to do with my life, but somehow, my parents, my mother—”
“What?” I asked, cutting her off.
“When it comes down to really taking chances, I don’t.”
“I don’t believe you.”
She stopped skating and stared at her feet. “Actually, I’m telling you the truth. We promised complete honesty and that’s what I’m being—completely honest.”
When she didn’t bring her face up to meet me with a sarcastic grin and a gotcha laugh, I knew she was being truthful.
I skated to her, lifting her chin with my finger. “Mimi, I’m sorry.”
Her eyes glistened with tears and she shrugged me off. “No big deal. Hey,” she said, her demeanor flipping like a pancake on a hot griddle. “Wanna see me do an axel? My girlfriend taught me how.”
“Wait. Marilyn.” I wanted to talk with her. Wanted to hear her hopes and dreams—what she wanted, not what her mother or anyone else wanted for her.
“Watch me,” she yelled from across the pond as she picked up a head of steam.
“Mimi, no!” I cried out as she skated on the wrong side of the frozen pond, turning her back to me to prepare for her jump.
With one leap and a quick turn, she made the revolution, landing on one foot then coming to a hockey stop, sending the ice flying. “Wooohoo!” she screamed, her arms in the air above her head in victory.
My shoulders dropped in relief just as the ice under her feet let out a crack, giving way suddenly and plunging her into the water.
Her head went completely under as I rushed to the edge of the break in the ice, throwing myself on my stomach, reaching my arms out to her. “Mimi! Take my hand!” I shouted, immersing my arm into the frigid water.
Gasping for air, she returned to the surface, her arms flailing about wildly. I grabbed her soppy glove, pulling her to the surface and onto the ice with me.
Mimi coughed up cold water, her eyes turning glassy in an instant. She was in shock.
As I pulled her body completely from the water she shook, her lips blue, her face rigid. I knew I had to get her warm. Immediately, I began to take all her wet clothes off. Hypothermia was inevitable if I didn’t.
“What….are…you…” she stuttered, her lips trembling.
“I have warm you up,” I said, ripping the sodden coat from her body, working my way to her shirt and sweater. Taking off my own coat, I put Mimi into it one arm at a time. I held her against my torso, opening my own shirt to place her frozen skin next to my warm chest.
Taking down her pants, I undid her skates with lightning speed, kicking them to the side, before taking off my own. I picked her up, my coat covering her nakedness. “Wrap your legs around my waist,” I said clearly in her ear. “Mimi, wrap your legs around my waist!”
Nearly unconscious, she shook violently as she brought her legs up, coiling them around me. Trudging through the snow as quickly as I could lug both our nearly naked bodies, I made it to the lodge before collapsing through the opened doorway.
Picking her up in my arms, I carried her to the nearest fireplace, laying her body on the hearth before grabbing every fur, blanket, and quilt I could find.
I tossed off the wet clothes that still clung to my body and climbed under the blankets with Mimi, pulling her nakedness to my own.
“Cecil?”
It was a whisper, but a good sign.
“I’ve got you, Mimi. I’ve got you.”
“What?”
“My body temperature is going to help bring yours back up,” I said, entwining my legs with hers, pressing my hips into her stomach. I pulled her close to my chest, and as she trembled in my arms I could feel her start to warm against my skin. The heat of the fire and the heaviness of the blankets overtop of us seemed to be doing the trick.
Mimi took a deep breath in my arms. “How are you feeling?”
Her lips quivered. “This is a hell of a way to get me naked.”
“I’ve been found out. My plan this Christmas was to get you alone, make you skate on that old pond and rescue you from the icy water. Whereby I could take all your clothes off and cuddle by the fire while your blue lips turned to pink.”
“I think…” she whispered, taking a moment to stave off a shiver. “I think it might be working.”
I watched the fire roar, Mimi asleep and naked in my arms. My body propped up by half a dozen down pillows from the various couches in the great room, I stroked her brown hair, now lying in ringlets as it dried in the warmth of the fire. She moaned with content, rolling her face into my chest. She’d fallen asleep, her body doing its best to recover from the shock of the cold water. I didn’t want to wake her. I wanted to keep her in my embrace as long as possible. If I was leaving for war, I couldn’t think of a better memory to take with me.
I shifted my hips, giving her better access to lay on my chest, my dog tags jingling just enough to rouse her. She batted her eyes, slowly bringing her gaze to meet mine.
“Hey,” she said softly.
“Hey.”
“Am I—?”
I cut her off before she needed to continue. I didn’t want her to feel embarrassed. “You are. But I didn’t see a thing. I merely needed to warm your body temperature back to normal. You gave me quite a scare out there. How are you feeling?”
“You mean besides embarrassed?”
I brushed a curl from her face. “No need for that. I’m just glad you’re safe.”
“I feel pretty safe right now.”
I nodded. “I’ll get up, so you can find your way back to your room in private and put on some clothes.”
I started to move and she stopped me, wrapping her arms around my neck, holding me back. “Wait,” she said. “I feel like this isn’t the first time you’ve s
aved me.”
Peering down at her, I gave her a half-hearted smile.
“The first time, you saved me from Dr. Marshall.”
I nodded.
“Saved my virginity, as you said.”
I stared into her blue eyes, not knowing how to respond.
“And today you saved my life again. Only this time you saved me from myself. Cecil, you’re my hero.”
“Listen,” I began as she placed a single finger over my lips.
“You did something for me and now it’s my turn.”
I raised an eyebrow, wondering exactly what she had in mind. I had too much respect for her to do something she might regret.
“I want to talk about you leaving.”
“Now?”
She pulled the blanket under her chin. “This is the most vulnerable I think I’ll ever get you. Right?”
I nodded.
“So let’s talk about it. Tell me what kind of nonsense you’ve cooked up in your head over this shipping off to war business.”
“I don’t think it’s nonsense.” I took a deep breath. “And I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“That’s what you have to say to me? We’re having this honest moment about your fears of leaving for war and you say that?”
“I’m serious. I’ve always thought you were beautiful. You wanted me vulnerable? This is me being vulnerable.”
“Well,” she paused. “Thank you. But I think we should talk about it.”
“What?” I asked, now becoming fidgety, my nerves getting the best of me.
“Shipping out.”
“That’s last thing I want to talk about.”
“Nope. We’re talking about it. You’re not getting out of it.”
“Are you always this contrary? Or is it just me?”
“This is me being nice. Are you nervous?” she asked without taking a beat.
“I think you’re more nervous right now than I am.”
“What? Why?”
“Because you like me, Mimi. You’d never admit it to yourself and for some reason you like to use our age difference as some huge obstacle, but it’s simply not. You’re nervous because you care about me and it’s okay. Because I care about you too.”
“You really think I’m nervous?”
