When she called him, she was nearly in tears, her voice jettisoning between cracked frustration and a hopeless whimper. Why was it that the people and ideas she had invested so much time into had only resulted in dead-end paths? What was the point? Where was she supposed to go from here?
After she had exhausted her situation and talked it into the ground, he invited her over to his building. It was unseasonably cold out and a recent rain was now crystalizing over everything it had touched earlier in the day. He filled the backseat of his car with blankets, pillows, coloring books and crayons. In large silver thermoses, he poured piping hot chocolate—extra chocolate, extra marshmallows. Then, drove to the parking garage roof and left the heater running.
When she arrived, they embraced for a long time, his slow, deliberate breaths calming her, as they rode the dimly lit elevator to the roof. She tried voicing one of her many frustrations, but after staring deep into her eyes, showing he would listen forever if she needed him to, her worries seemed to melt away.
The two of them walked out onto the roof, the collected water now frozen solid. “What are we doing here?” She asked. His ideas, hopelessly romantic, he answered, “I thought we could dance.” And so, with the lights of the city skyline bouncing off the slick reflection of the ice, the two of them slid about, falling countless times, and attempted to do something, anything, that resembled dancing in some frame or fashion—each failed attempt beautiful.
When it got to be too cold—both of their cheeks red, breath hot on the other’s face—he grabbed her hand and they retreated into the hatchback of his car. Now, comfortably insulated with old quilts, pillows, and sheets sporting cartoon heroes, it was the perfect fort. A giant sleeping bag designed so they could be near each other—pouring cup after cup of hot cocoa.
He wanted to set up a white picket fence around his car and live in that moment forever, taking special note every time she smiled or laughed. She was beautiful when she smiled and he couldn’t help but find happiness in her joy.
Tomorrow she would go back to the other boy. Try and work out her problems with someone else. Make herself available for that perfect guy she just hadn’t, yet, found. But, tonight, there were kittens in capes to be colored blue and children’s books to be read aloud. Tonight, there was hot chocolate to drink and, oh yes, popcorn to be tossed into each others’ mouths. Tonight, she could tell him anything and he would listen, intently. He would love to hear her.
So, they stayed in the backseat of that car for as long as they could. Eyes locked. Inhibitions lost. And, in that moment, it was perfect.
