She Calls Me From the Cold

“The winter here’s cold, and bitter. Its chilled us to the bone. We haven’t seen the sun for weeks. To long to far from home…” Someone suddenly shook Matt’s shoulder. “Sir, we have begun preparation for landing. I’ll need you to turn off your electronic devices and put your seat in the full upright position.” Matt nodded compliantly and took out his earbuds before pushing the button to straighten his seat. He looked out the window and could see the overcast sky encasing the outskirts of T.F. Greene Airport. The weather personified the Sarah McLachlan song he was listening to. Sarah always calmed him during plane rides. And she always made him think of Elle. Which was appropriate for this particular trip. He hadn’t been back to New England in nearly 25 years and was making this trek specifically to see Elle again.

*

               As Matt pulled the rental car, a new Ford Explorer, onto I-95 South, his mind again went back to thoughts of Elle. The last time he saw her he had left broken hearted. But again, he was 19 years old and filled with the youthful testosterone that makes every young man think he’s falling in love. Now with the years between them, he felt he had matured emotionally and had the courage to say what he wanted to all those years ago. His relationship with Elle was a whirlwind. He had been a poor kid in high school and busted his ass to try to be part of the “it” crowd. Elle, on the other hand, was one of the most popular girls in school. The first day he saw her freshman year, it was love at first sight for him. Being shy and awkward, he never had the courage to really talk to her; instead, he always sat on the sidelines and watched as she went through different boyfriends throughout high school. By senior year, he realized he had to make his move or may never get another one. After many failed and embarrassing attempts, his moment came at their Senior Prom.

               Matt had accompanied Kelly McKinny to the prom, a gesture that was as unexpected as it was bittersweet. Kelly, with her sharp intellect and affluent background, shone in her elegance, a girl whose future sparkled as brightly as the red sequin dress she wore that evening. To Matt, it was a mystery why she had chosen him, a boy who felt he lived worlds apart from her gleaming prospects. As he drove to her house, a sense of unworthiness gnawed at him, not out of self-pity, but from a poignant awareness of their different paths. Yet, in his heart, it was Elle who held the key to his unspoken dreams. Elle, with her effortless grace and charm, had already been claimed for the evening by Brent, the guy who always seemed to be one step ahead. When Kelly extended her invitation, Matt accepted, albeit with a heart heavy with unfulfilled yearnings.

As they arrived at the prom in a limousine, a gift from Kelly's parents, they were the picture of a perfect couple. But beneath the surface, Matt's heart ached with a silent torment. Each dance with Kelly was a reminder of the distance between him and Elle. His eyes, often finding their way across the room to where Elle was, betrayed his facade of contentment. During one such moment, as they returned to their table and while Kelly chatted animatedly with friends, Matt's gaze locked with Elle's across the room. His insecurities clamored for him to look away, even demanded it, but he continued to hold his gaze. Elle smiled at him, a gesture that sent waves of hope and fear through Matt's heart. Compelled as if by an unseen force, Matt found himself standing and walking towards Elle. The timing was cinematic; Aerosmith's "I Don't Want to Miss a Thing" filled the air, enveloping the room in a blanket of serendipity. Approaching her, every step felt like a journey across a lifetime of what-ifs. "Do you want to dance?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying the weight of his concealed affections. "Sure," Elle responded, her hand slipping into his with a gentleness that set his heart ablaze. As they moved to the music, it wasn't just Brent's frustrated glare that Matt relished; it was the realization of a dream, fragile and fleeting, unfolding in the sanctuary of their dance.

As they danced, Matt never broke eye contact with Elle. She was his dream girl, and he would be damned if he blew it. “Elle, I need you to know that I like you. Like a lot.” The words felt stupid coming out of his mouth, but he was relieved to see Elle smiling even bigger. “Yeah, I know,” she said. “I always wondered why you never talked to me since I always see you looking at me.” Matt blushed so abruptly that his face looked purple. “I’m not some weird stalker, I promise…” he began to stammer. “Knock it off, I’m busting your balls” Elle laughed. “What are you doing after this?” Matt asked. She gestured over to the table where Brent was sitting. “After party at his house. You?” Matt grinned. “Party at Kelly’s house.” They danced for a while until the song ended. Elle looked at Matt and whispered, “Call me sometime.” He was instantly high, walking back to Kelly barely aware of what had happened. The prom ended, and he and Kelly went back to her house, where people were already showing up for the party. He couldn’t get Elle out of his head. He had to see her.

               Matt had grown to be an expert of the Irish goodbye, a trait easily picked up from his generally introverted family. He hopped in his 1988 Ford Escort while everyone was still partying and headed toward Brent’s house. He knew where Brent lived because they had been best friends up until fourth grade. That was the year that Matt had pantsed Brent in front of the whole class. Underwear and all. Another act of being a shitty person, just like ditching Kelly tonight. But Matt didn’t care, he could only think of Elle. He pulled into the driveway and turned off the ignition. His heart was pounding, and he felt shaky. But damn it he had already come this far tonight. He got out of the car and walked to the front door, ringing the doorbell. The music was blaring inside, and nobody answered. Eventually, Matt turned the knob and walked in. Inside was your stereotypical prom party: a keg, pizza, and Puff Daddy on the stereo. He scanned the room for Elle and did not see her. “Matt!” It was Luke Berry, another one of his grade school friends whom he had grown apart from through the years. He was a good-natured kid, but never seemed to mature much past eighth grade. “What’s up, Luke? You seen Elle around?” “Nah, man” Luke replied, Matt now recognizing his inebriation, “but you can check the basement. Lotta people down there”. Matt thanked Luke and walked past, around, and over people to get to the door at the end of the hallway that Luke had pointed to. He descended the stairs. Down here the mood was a lot more chill. The smell of weed was in the air, and P. Diddy was replaced with Sublime. He immediately spotted Elle leaning over on the couch. She looked passed out, but Matt couldn’t be sure. He walked over to her, ignoring Brent who was sitting right next to her. “Elle, you ok?” Elle opened her eyes. She looked tired, but her eyes were clear enough that Matt could see she wasn’t high or drunk. “What are you doing here?” she asked Matt confused. “I wanted to see you,” Matt replied. She became more alert as she woke up. “C’mon we should get out of here,” he continued. “Hey man, what in the hell do you think you’re doing?” Brent demanded. Matt simply looked at Brent coldly. He was easily five inches taller and 25 pounds heavier than Brent, and Brent looked away before silently walking upstairs. “Matt, you can’t just barge in here and take me away,” Elle said, but her eyes now looked bright with excitement. “Fair enough, but how about we go somewhere and talk, and then I’ll take you home.” This time, she smiled, took his hand, and let him lead her to his car. That night was the first time he had ever been alone with her. The first time he ever kissed her. There were a lot of firsts that night.

*

Matt made the turn to get on Route 6, which would take him right into Connecticut. At the first stop light he hit, he unrolled the window, and took a deep breath. The air was crisp and stung his lungs. The scent of incoming snow wafted on the breeze. After so many years in the South, Matt had forgotten how clean winter smelled. He rolled up the window as the light turned green. He scanned the radio stations. WAAF had always been a solid choice when he was in high school, and sure as shit Korn was on as he rolled the dial to 107.3. He had jumped on the nu-metal wagon from its infancy and considered Korn the godfathers of the much-maligned genre. Sure, he gets heckled by his neighbor whenever he is blasting Limp Bizkit from his garage, but the heart wants what the heart wants. Elle was the one who introduced him to more light pop music like Sarah McLachlan, and so that music was his secret guilty pleasure throughout the years. As Korn finished up Falling Away from Me, Matt put the radio back to scan. When he heard the song a few stations over, he took a hitched breath. He immediately stopped the scan and let the melody wash over him. It was the song he and Elle had listened to the last night before he left for boot camp.

*

Matt’s decision to join the Coast Guard was not one he made happily. He had become so focused on being accepted by his peers in his senior year that he abandoned any hope of heading off to college. He had a half-assed plan to attend a local community college, but his father had refused and told him to either join the service or move out. This may have seemed harsh to an outside observer, but Matt knew this position was justified. His senior year consisted of failing classes, getting suspended from the football team, fighting, and getting into one hell of a car accident. He didn’t start dating Elle until almost graduation, and she told him how he had squandered his intelligence. He didn’t know how much intelligence he had, always implying that his 1420 SAT score had more to do with him being a savant than the reincarnation of Einstein. Elle had been accepted to Our Lady of the Rosary College in Massachusetts. Matt had applied to Holy Trinity College in a last-ditch effort, which was just a few miles away, but the damage had been done. The rejection hadn’t come as a shock when it showed up in the mail a few weeks later. So, Matt decided he would go the Coast Guard route. Growing up in northeastern Connecticut, he would always read about the Coast Guard Academy in the newspaper. Plus, it wasn’t like it was the Marines, so it couldn’t be that hard, right? The night before he left for boot camp was a chilly September evening. He drove to Elle’s house, and they both sulked for a while before getting in Matt’s car so he could drive her back to her college dorm. As they drove silently, Elle wept quietly in the passenger seat. Matt’s heart hurt so bad he felt like it would literally rupture. He couldn’t stand the silence anymore and turned on the radio. Night Swimming by R.E.M. poured into the vehicle, like a torrent of icy water that threatened to drown the both of them. Matt began to weep as he drove, trying and failing to hold back the broken sobs. Eventually, they pulled up outside the dorms at Our Lady of the Rosary. Matt got out of the car, not wanting to leave her, giving anything he had in the world not to have to leave her. He walked around and opened her car door. She was looking down and slowly got out of the car. He gently tilted her head up with his hand and looked at her intensely. He kissed her like never before, not knowing what the future would bring between them.

*

Route 6 and Route 12 intersected near the heart of Danielburg, Connecticut. His hometown of 18 years hadn’t changed much in the last 25 years. He made the left to head down Route 12. It wouldn’t be long until he saw her now. He wasn’t sure what to say to her after so many years, but he knew he couldn’t carry this burden in his heart any longer. She had haunted him his entire adult life, the thought of her always just under the surface of every relationship he had and always in his dreams. As he drove down Route 12, he passed the street he used to live on. That was the spot where he and Elle had last seen each other. The Coast Guard, in all its wisdom, immediately sent him off to a buoy tender in Homer, Alaska after boot camp. The culture shock was one thing, but the utter isolation of the area ate at Matt. What kept him going were the letters, phone calls, and emails he would send and receive from Elle. As time passed, the correspondence grew more and more sparse, but Matt was confident that when he returned, they would pick up right where they left off. Finally, after a year in the bitter winter and 24-hour daylight summer, Matt flew home on leave. He was excited to see his family, but Elle was the first thing on his mind. On his first day home, he went to a jeweler and spent three months of his meager E-3 pay on the most beautiful diamond bracelet he could afford. Having left his vehicle in Alaska, Matt had his best friend Jon drop him off at Elle’s house. He intuitively knew this would not be the reunion he had wished for. Keeping the bracelet tucked in his pocket, he was greeted by one of Elle’s friends, Becky. “Uh, hi. Is Elle home?” “Hey Matt, yeah, come on in,” Becky said. Matt walked into the living room where Elle was sitting. “Hey stranger!” she said, standing up and giving him a hug. But she wouldn’t make eye contact, and her demeanor seemed off-standish. After an idle conversation about what they had been doing over the last year, the entire time being chaperoned by Becky, Elle suddenly said, “Well, it's getting late. You need a ride home?” Stunned, Matt said that he could just call Jon. “Don’t be silly; I’ll drive you.” He told Becky goodbye and he and Elle got into her Acura. The ride was mostly silent. Matt was scared to say the wrong thing as this night had already not gone according to plan. “I used to drive by your house when you were gone and miss you,” Elle said softly. “I missed you too,” Matt replied. They pulled up to Matt’s house and sat silently in the idling car, the bracelet feeling heavy in his jacket pocket. “Can I see you again before I head back,” Matt pleaded with her. “We’ll see,” Elle responded, but her face told him this would be it. He opened the car door and was about to close it, thus closing the chapter on them. At the last second, he grabbed the door before it could close and reached into his pocket. “I got you a Christmas gift,” he said solemnly. He handed the delicately wrapped jewelry box to Elle. She looked at him, then looked at the box. Did he see something in her eyes? Some change of heart? “Thanks,” she said and threw the unopened box into the backseat. Matt stood stoically, then shut the door. Elle backed down the driveway, and he watched her taillights fade down the street. That night was the last time he ever saw her. The last night he ever talked to her. There were a lot of lasts that night.

*

Matt steered the Explorer down the familiar road leading to Elle, the snowflakes beginning to dance in the fading light of Christmas Eve, each one like a delicate memory from a distant past. The crunch of leaves and twigs under the tires echoed in the silent, wintry evening as he navigated the tree-lined path. Parking the car, his heart was pounding with an intensity that mirrored those long-lost youthful days. The place was more crowded than he remembered. With each step, weaving through the crowd, Matt's anticipation grew until he reached her. Standing before her, the years seemed to collapse into a single moment. “Hey there. Been a long time, huh?” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the gentle rustle of the winter breeze.

The response came in silent, etched letters:

Ellen S. La Morte

1979 – 2023

Beloved Wife, Mother, and Daughter

Matt sank to the ground beside Elle's grave, the cold seeping through his clothes. “It’s so nice to be able to talk to you again,” he whispered, his voice breaking in the quiet, as if each word was a fragment of his shattered heart. There, under the soft glow of the moon, he began to recount the last 25 years, speaking to the silence, to the memories, to the ghost of a love that time could never erase.