The First Step

Becca swore that it was raining when she awoke that January morning, her eyes still blurred by sleep and mind confused with half-remembered dreams.

She did not expect the white coating on the garden outside her window. Or the wet, and half melting snowmen in the yards across the street.

“Balls,” she said, tugging her comforter around her shoulder as she stood to get a better look, pushing her glasses onto her face, “Balls, balls, balls.”

It wasn’t that Becca hated snow, so much. She just really disliked everything about it.

She disliked the way it seeped into her sneakers, making her socks wet and frozen. She disliked how every step was a test of balance - especially when it froze the day after a snowfall. She disliked most of all driving to work in wet, drifts that made her car skid and whir.

There wasn’t much snow on the ground yet, but the heavy, wet flakes drifted down heavily and it wouldn’t take long before the roads were treacherous.

She entered the kitchen, her sentiments written plainly on her face as she poured herself a cup of coffee and hunkered down at the table, still wearing her comforter as a cape.

“You are quite the ray of sunshine this morning, aren’t you?” her boyfriend, Todd, remarked as he walked into the kitchen.

He was already dressed - in running gear of all things. He wore a light fleece jacket and toque, as well as those manly compression pants (leggings) that men wore beneath their shorts. White flakes were sprinkled over his shoulders and head, beginning to melt into damp crystals.

“I’m surprised you didn’t slip and die out there,” Becca said, wrapping her fingers firmly around her coffee mug as though she could absorb its warmth directly into her core.

Todd kissed her firmly on the forehead, his lips still frozen from the chilly winter air.

“Good thing I didn’t. Who else would have gotten you out of your cocoon today?”

Becca’s gaze narrowed, a crease appearing between her eyebrows. “As if. I’m calling in sick to work, and I’m not leaving the couch. I’ve earned this, and the world is just supporting me right now.”

Todd shook his head, grinning, wet droplets shaking to the floor. He deftly sliced two bagels and popped them in the toaster.

“Butter or cream cheese,” he asked from the fridge.

He had already grabbed the cream cheese by the time Becca answered, and set about making breakfast for the two of them.

When he set Becca’s plate in front of her (blueberries arranged into a smiling face, of all things) he said, “I’m going to teach you how to skate today.”

Becca laughed, taking a bite out of the bagel. One of Todd’s many talents was making the perfect bagels, not that she would ever have told him that.

“What makes you so sure about that?” she teased, mouth still full of cream cheese.

“Because,” he said, chewing and swallowing his own mouthful of bagel thoughtfully, “You owe me. Remember when we made that bet about which one of the Beatles was actually the oldest?”

Becca nodded slowly, though she was still convinced that Paul McCartney was the oldest in the band.

“Yeah, well my reward was getting to choose date night - and, I distinctly remember telling you that I was going to teach you to skate after the first snowfall.”

“Bah,” Becca said, before shoving the rest of her breakfast in her mouth.

“You agreed. I think I have it in writing somewhere.”

Becca dumped her plate in the sink and hoisted her comforter tighter around her shoulders. Unlike most Canadians, her family had never been a winter-sport kind of family. She never watched hockey and disliked most of anything that involved being cold for more than ten minutes. Her favorite part of winter was the snow days and the fact that she could curl up in front of the TV and watch Disney all day without anyone complaining. Oh, and the occasional trip to Hawaii made winter very bearable.

Todd, on the other hand, was as Canadian as you could get. He played lacrosse and hockey. His favorite color was red, and he had countless stories of building snow forts, tobogganing, and of course, ice skating. His family was always encouraging Becca to join in on the fun, and she would usually plead a cold or work to avoid the obligation.

The brightness in Todd’s eyes told her that today she would not be able to avoid the ice.

“Or we could watch an inspirational hockey movie,” she said, half-hoping that his love of the sport would convince him to cave.

“Not a chance, babe. We’re going to rent you skates.”

The sports equipment rental place was a zoo when they arrived.

Becca tried one last time to convince Todd to let her return to the cozy warmth of her sanctuary.

“You know, by the time we get out of the line up to even try and find my size, it’ll be lunchtime!” she protested meekly.

Todd steered her into the line, his hands firm and warm on her shoulders.

“Nice try, but we’re renting you skates.”

Becca harrumphed and crossed her arms across her chest.

As if the world were trying to make a point, she was trying on skates just a few minutes later.

“What are these even supposed to feel like?” she said, as she wiggled her toes in the hard plastic blade-shoes (which she decided was a much better name for the torture devices on her feet).

“Tight, but you don’t want your toes hitting the end,” Todd said as he laced her up tightly.

Becca grumbled, “I can’t even feel my toes.”

But Todd seemed satisfied, and soon the paperwork was filled out, and the rental skates were slung over Becca’s shoulder as they walked towards the car.

“Can we at least get lunch before skating?” she tried one last time to delay the inevitable fate she had slowly resigned herself to.

The snow still fell lazily around them, and she could feel it collecting in the collar of her coat.

“Lunch,” Todd said, placing the skates in the back of his car which held his own equipment, and the helmets he had dug out of the garage, “Is your reward for letting me teach you how to skate.”

Becca managed to resist the urge to stick her tongue out at him. Barely.

By the time they did make it to the rink, it was packed with students, parents, and everyone else in between who had decided that today was an excellent day to not go to work.

Slightly woozy, Becca gladly sat on an empty bench and waited for Todd to sit down beside her.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she said meekly, “I’m going to fall and take seven other people out at the same time. My balance is terrible. I’m not an athlete.”

Todd held her hand quietly, warmth seeping into her cold fingers.

“What if I embarrass myself?” Becca asked, her words barely audible over the echoing sounds of skates and laughter.

“So you embarrass yourself,” Todd said, “You wipe out, you bruise your knees, you get back up and try again. Everybody starts skating as a beginner, Becca.”

She frowned, her brow creasing as she tried to take comfort in his words, “Yeah, and most beginners are five-year-olds. Look at that toddler over there,” she pointed with her mitted hand, “That little girl isn’t even falling down, and I can barely stand without knives attached to my feet.”

Todd gently gripped Becca’s chin, their eyes meeting.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re good or not at skating. You’re not doing this to be perfect or to impress anyone. You’re doing this to have fun.”

Becca took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down.

“Fine, fine, you’ve got me here. Let’s do this,” and she shoved her feet into the skates before she could think too much and change her mind.

Once laced up, Todd helped Becca stand. She breathed deeply as she got used to the new wobble in her step, and the added inch of height that made the whole world look different.

Todd stared directly into Becca’s eyes as he stepped onto the ice, his own balance flawless - natural. He gripped her forearms firmly, smiling as he said, “Okay Becca, your turn.”

She gulped, her mouth filled with sawdust. Beneath her ribcage, her heart pattered like a bunny rabbit. Her vision tunneled, and she stared into Todd’s comforting brown eyes, begging him to see the panic in her own.

“You’ve got this Becca. I’ve got you.”

“Don’t you dare let me go,” she said, breathless.

And she took the step.

One. And then two.

Her heart still pounding, her eyes fixed on Todd.

Her skates on the ice.

“There,” Todd said warmly, “That’s the first step.”