What If

by Rebecca Donovan

  "Okay. Let's go sledding." I shrug in concession, offering her my elbow again. She slides her arm through mine, carrying a long red sled in her other hand. "Where'd you get these anyway?"

  "Someone was throwing them away," Nyelle explains.

  "You have this thing with saving what others leave behind, don't you?" I tease.

  "Maybe it ends up being the thing I've always wanted," she states, like she's trying to make a point. Except I'm not really sure what it is.

  We continue around the corner, heading away from the stores and restaurants on the main street.

  The snow continues to fall steadily, covering up our tracks as if they were never there. The air is still and heavy. Nyelle was right; it is quiet. The snow has put the world on mute.

  Nyelle kicks up the piles around her feet as we walk. Black boots poke out from under the dress. I hadn't thought about what she might be wearing for shoes, but this makes me laugh.

  "What?" she asks.

  "I like the boots. They're a nice touch."

  "Well, it is snowing," she points out. "I kept my jeans on too." She lifts the hem of the dress to reveal her pants.

  "I can hardly breathe in these," I say, pointing to what's basically spandex on my legs, "and you're in jeans. Doesn't seem fair."

  "Your pants are polyester," she says unsympathetically. "They'll stretch."

  "I hope so," I say, pulling down on the thighs. "Are we really going to a church?"

  "Yeah," she answers, just as the small, steepled church comes into view atop a large hill. "Look at that hill. It has to be the best sledding spot in town."

  I chuckle with a nod. "You're probably right."

  Nyelle hands me her sled and lifts up her skirt to keep from walking on it as we head up the church's long driveway.

  "Let's go around back," Nyelle suggests, trudging through the knee-deep snow that's accumulated over the past week.

  As we stand at the top the hill, it feels like we're on our own island, surrounded by a sea of white snow with headstones jetting out like jagged rocks. The cemetery stretches to the right of the church, all the way to the road, bordered by wrought-iron fencing. Large trees break up the untouched white canvas, twisting out of ground toward the sky and collecting snow along their barren limbs.

  "It's beautiful, isn't it?" Nyelle asks from beside me.

  I turn to look at her. The chilled air has brushed her cheeks pink. A cloud of breath floats from between her shiny, full lips. Her eyes are such a pale blue, it's almost as if they're coated with frost too. There's an energy floating off her that's full of possibilities. "Yeah. Beautiful."

  Her smile's bright enough to part the overcast sky as she reaches for the red sled under my arm.

  "I'll go first, okay?"

  I can only nod. I'd almost forgotten why we're here.

  Nyelle sits down on the long, plastic sled, folding the skirt on her lap. She scoots forward, packing the snow beneath before shoving off. She doesn't go very fast, plowing the snow out of her way and leaving a trail behind her. She comes to a slow stop at the bottom just as it levels out.

  She hops off and looks up the hill, still wearing that radiant smile. "Your turn."

  Sitting on the blue saucer brings on a whole new layer of discomfort. I shift, but it's useless. I hold my legs out in front of me, since there's no way in hell I can cross them. I wouldn't fit on this small sled even if I could.

  I dig my hands in the snow, pushing forward until gravity takes over and I'm following Nyelle's path. Still not going very fast, but the hill is steep enough to get me to the bottom.

  It takes a few more runs before I'm able to pack the snow enough to pick up speed. The snow pelts me in the face as I move over the surface that's now as slick as ice.

  Nyelle yells out when she catches air going over a bump on her way down. Watching her fly down the hill on a sled wearing a wedding dress is a memory I don't ever want to forget.

  "We should try one together," Nyelle suggests on our way back up the hill. "That saucer can't be very comfortable."

  "Not really. I'm probably bruised," I admit, having felt every groove and bump as if I were sliding down the slope on my bare ass. "But I'm having fun, if that makes you feel better."

  "Of course you're having fun! We're sledding in a snowstorm wearing wedding clothes. How could you not?"

  I laugh.

  "How are we going to do this?" I ask when we reach the top and Nyelle sets the sled down. It's not very big. There's no way the two of us will be able to fit on it without her sitting on top of me. Actually... I like that option.

  "Let's stand."

  "What?" I shoot back. "And kill ourselves?"

  "What's the worst that can happen? We fall in the snow..."

  "And kill ourselves."

  She laughs and grabs my lapels through my partially unzipped coat, shaking me. "Where's your sense of adventure, Cal? Let's snow surf!"

  I stare at her for a moment. She dares me without blinking. I grumble in defeat. Those damn eyes win every time.

  "Fine. But if we fall, I'm using you and that huge dress as a cushion."

  Nyelle shakes her head at my weak threat. She steps on, holding my shoulder with one hand for balance and gripping the thin nylon rope looped through the front of the sled with the other.

  I carefully step on behind her, wrapping my arm around her waist and holding on to the rope too. I would be enjoying this right now, if I weren't looking down the steep hill, foreseeing the wipeout that's going to hurt like hell.

  I widen my stance and bend my knees to balance better.

  "Ready?" I murmur in her ear. She nods. I swear I can feel her heartbeat speed up. "Hold on." I shift my weight forward, inching us to the edge and down the hill. The cold wind rushes in my face. I can't feel the snow hitting me. My legs give with each bump, and adrenaline courses through me. I'm almost convinced we're going to make it when we hit the bump, and my feet leave the sled.

  Nyelle yells out and topples forward, grabbing my hand and taking me with her. We crash into the snow and tumble down the hill. I come to a stop, sprawled on my back, unable to see anything past the snow covering my face.

  "Nyelle, are you okay?" I ask, tipping on my side. She doesn't answer. "Nyelle?"

  She's buried in the snow, with just her boots sticking out. I crawl over to her, clearing off the avalanche.

  "Nyelle?"

  When I finally find her face, she's laughing so hard, no noise comes out. Her chest spasms, and her mouth is open wide. I remove my glove to clear the snow from her cheeks.

  Tears are welled in her eyes when she calms enough to focus on me.

  "Are you okay?" I ask again, looking down at her, encased in snow. She bites her bottom lip, still smiling, and nods. I'm suddenly very aware of her and her slow, drawn breaths. My hand is still cupping her cheek, and I'm transfixed by the emotion captured in her eyes. Just as I'm bending down to kiss her, she sits up, and her head slams into my cheek. I groan, falling onto my back in pain.

  "Oh, Cal, I'm so sorry," Nyelle says in a rush. "Are you all right?" She leans over me, concerned. She places a glove on my cheek, covering my face with snow.

  "Thanks, Nyelle. I'm fine," I sputter, brushing it off. She laughs and stands to offer me her hand, so I let her help me up.

  "Well, since we're already a mess," Nyelle says, still holding my hand, "let's make snow angels."

  My eyes widen. "What?"

  "Over here." She pulls me along, slogging through the snow to a flat spot that hasn't been touched. "Turn around."

  With her back to the snow, Nyelle steps to the side so that her arms are extended. She glances over at me in expectation, waiting for me to extend my arms too.

  I sigh. "Okay."

  She smiles. "Ready? Fall back on three. One. Two. Three."

  We fall backward into the deep snow. I'm in a small white cave, peeking up at the stormy sky.

  "Sweep your arms and legs, Cal!" Nyelle instructs me. So I do. Rae would ne
ver let me live this down if she could see me.

  When I've flattened the area around my arms and legs, I stop and watch the flakes drift down, mesmerized. They land on my face, melt into my skin, and get caught in my lashes.

  "Cal?"

  "Yeah," I respond, unable to see her beside me.

  "Have you ever been in love?"

  There's silence for a moment. I'm not exactly prepared for the question.

  "No. Have you?"

  "No. I wonder what it's like." Her voice sounds like an echo in the stillness. "I think it will be like falling backward in the dark. Terrifying. Exhilarating. Having to trust that there'll be someone there to catch you."

  "Or you land in the snow and freeze your ass off. Or on some jagged rock and break your back. Or..."

  "Cal!" Nyelle hollers, sitting up. "That's not romantic at all."

  I laugh just as a snowball lands on my head.

  "Hey!" I sit up, and she's smiling at me innocently. "Oh, that's how we're playing this."

  Her mouth drops. "Don't you dare!" She jumps up and tries to run across the snow just as I push up and rush after her.

  I grab her around the waist and dump her in a deep drift, falling down beside her. She releases my favorite laugh, shoveling a pile of snow in my face in order to escape.

  I crawl after her, pulling her back down.

  "I give up," she cries out, holding her hands up in surrender. Her face is flushed red, and she's breathing in quick pants with a huge smile on her face. The thought of trying to kiss her again enters my mind, but I'm afraid if I try, I'll end up with another bruise. So I stand and hoist her up.

  She looks down at my pants and covers her mouth to hide her laugh.

  "They're split open, aren't they?" I ask, closing my eyes, silently cursing. With her mouth still covered, she nods. "Yeah, it's time to go before everything that's important to me freezes."

  She nods again, still speechless.

  We pick up the sleds along the way and head back to the truck. I can feel the air rush into the slit between my legs as we walk, but I'm just resigned to let it be what it is and don't bother looking. Nyelle keeps laughing in bursts. She's trying not to, but it is funny. Only I can't bring myself to laugh just yet.

  "At least you have white boxer briefs on," Nyelle says, trying to make me feel better between giggles.

  "Don't." I shake my head, knowing for certain my dignity is buried somewhere back there in the snow. "Just don't."

  Nyelle laughs again.

  When we get to my truck, Nyelle waits inside the cab, while I clear off the snow.

  "Want to come back to my hotel room to warm up?" Nyelle asks, when I get back in the truck.

  I swallow, hard. "Excuse me?"

  She smiles. "That's not what I meant. I have ice cream. We can make sundaes."

  "Um, ice cream is not going to warm me up."

  "It'll make you feel better," she says with big eyes. "Ice cream always makes everything better."

  "I'm not sure I believe you, but okay," I concede, backing out of the parking spot. "Where are you staying?"

  "The Trinity Hotel."

  "And why are you staying there?" I shift and slowly start down the plowed road.

  "The dorms are creepy when they're empty," she explains.

  Nyelle wipes her window when we reach an intersection. "Will you turn here?"

  "Uh, sure," I respond, taking a right down a narrow road with an old factory on one side and broken-down buildings on the other. "What's down here, other than someone waiting to kill us?"

  She rolls her eyes.

  Nyelle wipes the window again, squinting her eyes in search of something, or someone. "Stop."

  I press on the brakes, looking around. The road is dark, filled with tall shadows like the buildings are determined to block out the daylight.

  "Nyelle," I call to her as she opens the door and hops out.

  I shut off the truck and follow after her, not about to let her go off by herself.

  She disappears into an alley as I walk around the truck. Then I hear, "Is that you, my angel?" The voice is low and gravelly, strained with age.

  "Gus, where's your jacket?"

  "The shadows took it," he rasps.

  I reach the corner of the building and stop. A man is huddled under a torn awning on a piece of cardboard. Nyelle takes off her jacket and hands it to him.

  "No. No. The shadows will take it," he says, trying to give it back. His scraggly beard is twisted with black and gray, and wiry tendrils of the same shades hang over his ears. His face is lined with life, weathered and dirty. He's old, but how old is hard to tell because of the fatigue that creases his brow and the sallow tone of his skin. His dark eyes stare at Nyelle like he can't trust his sight. I can see why he would think she's an angel, especially in that dress--even if he is delusional.

  "They won't take it from you today," she assures him, bending down to wrap the jacket around his shoulders. "I was hoping to see you at the shelter this week."

  "No. I stay in the dark. I like the dark," he mutters, repeating himself over again while rocking.

  "I know. I was just hoping."

  "Are you going to take me today? Please?" he pleads, his eyes dark.

  She smiles down at him sorrowfully. "Not today, Gus. I'm sorry." Nyelle bends down to look into his eyes. "Stay warm, okay? I'll come find you again soon."

  Gus begins rocking again, staring at the ground with the jacket pulled tight around him.

  Nyelle stands up and turns. She pauses when she finds me watching. I take off my jacket when she reaches me and wrap it around her shoulders, holding her by my side as we walk back to the truck without saying a word.

  As I turn the truck around to put us back on course, I ask, "How did you two meet?"

  Nyelle stares out the window. "I volunteered this month at the shelter, and sometimes I go out with the street team to hand out meals to the people who don't... won't come to the shelter."

  "How often do you help out at the shelter?" I ask, still trying to put the pieces of her life together.

  "I play with the kids a couple days a week so their parents can look for work," she answers, turning her head toward me. "I try to help them just be kids so they can forget the things kids shouldn't have to worry about, even if it's just for a little bit." She looks back out the window.

  "Is that where you were the other day? Who you spent Thanksgiving with?"

  "Yeah. They were short staffed in the kitchen, so I helped. It was probably the best Thanksgiving I've had in a long time." She turns to me. "You'll have to tell me about your crazy family sometime." I can tell we're done talking about her. I never know what she'll willingly tell me each time I see her. But no matter how much she reveals, it's never enough.

  "Yeah," I say with a laugh. "I wouldn't even know where to start."

  "I bet family weddings are huge."

  "I think I like this one better," I reply, pulling into the parking lot of the hotel and picking a spot next to a car buried in snow.

  "Me too," Nyelle says, her eyes brightening. As we're about to get out of the truck, she pauses. "Um... do you want your jacket to wrap around your waist?" She raises her eyebrows at the tear in the pants, trying to restrain her smile.

  "Oh, yeah," I respond, feeling the heat creep up my neck. I reach behind the seat for the bag with my clothes in it and pull out the button-down I originally had on, knotting it around my waist. When Nyelle closes her door, I also grab the RadioShack bag and shove it in with my stuff.

  I determinedly keep my eyes on the ground as we walk through the lobby. I know we're drawing attention in our wedding attire, covered in snow. I swear I can hear whispering, but there's no way I'm looking up to find out.

  When we reach the elevator, Nyelle hits the button for the fourth floor and starts laughing. "This is seriously one of my favorite days ever."

  I look over at her. "Really?"

  She nods, still smiling. I smile back just as the elevator ding
s and she exits.

  As soon as we enter the room, I head straight to the bathroom to peel off the wet--and torn--clothes. The pants aren't any easier to take off than they were to put on, and my legs are screaming red from being so cold. I want nothing more than to crawl under the blankets of that bed, preferably with her, but I'm sure that's not an option.

  When I exit, there's music playing from the clock radio, and Nyelle is sitting cross-legged on the bed, still wearing the dress. I notice her wet jeans hanging on the back of the desk chair, with her boots tucked beneath.

  She's holding a bag of chocolate hearts and a can of whipped cream. She takes out a chocolate, shoots whipped cream on top, and drops it in her mouth.

  "Chocolate?" she asks.

  "Um... sure," I answer reluctantly. She hands me a chocolate. I hold it while she squirts it with whipped cream, and I pop it in my mouth in one bite. "Thanks."

  She tips the can upside down and fills her mouth with whipped cream. "Wan sum?" she asks, her mouth full.

  I laugh with a nod.

  "Sit," she demands. I sit on the bed in front of her, expecting her to hand the can to me. "Open up."

  I tilt my head back reluctantly, and she sprays whipped cream in my mouth. A huge smile erupts on her face when I have to extend my cheeks like a chipmunk to swallow it.

  "You have something..." she says, and before I can wipe the back of my hand over my mouth, she reaches over and slides her thumb gently across my lower lip, removing a smudge of whipped cream. I can't move a single muscle as I watch her lick her finger clean.

  "Do you want some ice cream?" she asks, about to get off the bed.

  I blink. "Uh, can I take you up on that another time? I can't feel my legs and there's no amount of ice cream that will make that better."

  She settles back on the bed. "You're wrong. Trust me. I'm an expert. But I'm not going to force you to eat ice cream."

  "Thanks," I reply. Suddenly remembering, I stand up to grab the bag. "Oh! I have a wedding gift for you."

  Nyelle's eyes widen. "You do?"

  "Technically, it's from Rae and me, but... here." I hand her the RadioShack bag.

  "I feel bad I didn't get you anything," she says, taking it from me.

  "Don't worry about it," I tell her as she removes the phone.

  She looks completely perplexed.

  "Rae calls it a drug phone. She has a disturbing fascination with gangster movies."

  Nyelle laughs. "Why did you guys get me a phone?"

  "Well... in case you need us. We want you to be able to get ahold of us." I'm hoping she won't hand it back.