A Warm Winter

My eyes snap open to my dark cold room. I don't bother to look over at Tom because I know he won’t be there. He hasn’t been, at least for the last few weeks. I sigh, it is way too early to start the day, but now I’m up. I roll out from under my covers and wince when my toes touch the cold hardwood. I suggested to Tom that we install heated floors a few years ago, but he laughed the idea off. That is a sound I have not heard in a long time, Tom’s laughter. I would give anything to hear again, even if he is making fun of me. I walk through the house looking for him, but I don’t see him. He can’t be out in the cold, right? It’s probably freezing. I check the porch anyway, and there he is. I can tell he’s been crying from the dry tears streaking his face but I decide for a different approach.

             “Thinking about building a snowman?” I tease. I sit across from him on our snow-covered picnic table. He looks up at me and gives me a weary smile, the best he can do right now.

           “Sledding,” he says. “I was actually thinking about sledding.”

             “I haven’t been in years,” I tell him because I haven’t. The last time I can remember sledding was probably elementary school. We would wake up and learn we have a snow day. All our friends would get together at the local park and sled all day and then go inside for hot chocolate. Suddenly feeling nostalgic for an exciting morning with my friends I ask Tom “When was the last time you went?” Immediately after I ask his eyes fill with tears.

             “Last time was with Jake,” he answers. Fuck, Jake, duh. My original idea to try to have fun today vanished and I wanted to comfort Tom.

             “Tell me about it,” I say as I move to sit next to him. My hands are shaking with cold, but I ignore them and focus on Tom. I have no clue how to console a loved one who just lost their brother. It was new to both of us. I was sad too, I miss Jake every day, but I never let it show. He was hurting more than me so I need to be considerate of his feelings.

             “It was like any snow day,” he started. “We woke up to like six inches of snow. Mom let us drag the sleds out of the shed and walk to elementary school. We were probably twelve or something,” he continues. “I don’t remember details but we sled for hours, racing, attaching our sleds, having fun.” Tom’s eyes start leaking when he remembers having fun with Jake. I start to feel a tightness in my throat but I swallow it down. I can’t cry right now that would be ridiculous. Without thinking I ask “do you want to go sledding?” He looks at me incredulously.

             “Right now?” He scoffs. “Aren’t we a tad too old?” I can tell he wants to so I push further.

             “Tom whooo cares, it'll be fun,” I urge him. He shakes his head in defeat and begins to stand up. As he does, snow falls from his hair and I remember how much I love him. Despite the hard last few weeks, I need to push aside my contentment for this roadblock hurting our relationship. I shake my head too, trying to get excited about the day.

             It's the middle of the day by the time we leave the house, but it is dark and the air feels sharp. I begin to think sledding will not help Tom get his mind off his dead brother, but too late now. We walk side by side kicking already dirtied snow as we go. The wind howls as we walk making me and the dry frozen branches of the trees sway. We get to the local park with a hill and there are just a few other families nearby.

             “This is ridiculous,” Tom shakes his head and laughs. I can tell he’s kind of excited though. His gloves are twitching with anticipation, and he hasn’t asked to go home. We sit on the sled together, it’s tight but I miss being this close to Tom so I savor him. We push off and slide down the hill. I ignore the families eyeing the two adults sledding alone. I feel the wind in my face that no longer feels sharp, but refreshing. I smile as we slide faster down the hill. Then, suddenly, I hear Tom chuckle. I lean back and turn my head to look at him. He has tears streaming down his face and he is laughing so hard. I can’t help but smile and start laughing with him. We laugh at the absurdity of our sledding. We laugh at the old feelings and memories sledding has dreaded up, we laugh at the pain that has been keeping us from feeling anything but sadness and anger for the last few months. We laugh. We laugh until we reach the bottom of the hill when we stop. We sit there for a few seconds catching our breaths. I turn to look at Tom and he has a bittersweet smile across his face.

             “You’re allowed to be sad too you know,” he tells me as he breaks the silence.

             “I-I,” I stutter unsure of why he says this.

             “He was your friend too, you can be sad,” he begins to cry again, but he is still smiling.

             “This has been hard on me, but I know it hasn’t been any easier on you. I love you. And we can be sad, and happy, and have fun together,” he finishes. Before I can answer he kisses me. Tom is warm and makes me feel like we are inside on our wedding day again when he kisses me.

             “I’m sorry,” I cry into his shoulder.

             “No, I’m sorry,” he cried back. We start laughing again. Ignoring the families who have probably been watching us with confused interest, we take a few more turns sledding. Once we can no longer laugh, cry, or walk back up the hill, we go home. And I know tonight will be the first night in a long time we talk and feel like ourselves again. Jake would have loved to sled again, but because he can’t Tom and I will, we will every winter from now on.