The Snow and a Walk to Safeway

Snow on New Year’s Eve. Of course, thought Max. Snow on the wet concrete of Seattle, the gray city he had landed in, ducking out from under the snow clouds of the Midwest. The water leaked from the sky in this city, like they were under some giant leaky faucet no one had ever thought to turn off. 

He pulled his blinds shut, the plastic pieces swaying. He was sick of the view, of the city though it was.The last thing he wanted was to see it all covered lightly in snow. He sank back on the couch, sliding down the leather slightly, stretching out his arm for the remote. Switching the TV on, he flipped aimlessly through the channels, listening to the montage of half-uttered sentences and cut off words. His mom had wanted him to fly back home for Christmas and New Year’s. He switched the TV off again. 

He had told her sharply over the phone that he needed to stay, to work, get in the good graces of his new boss at his new job. She sounded worried, and they both hung up dissatisfied. He only partly wished it was true. Mostly, he didn’t want anyone to know hold it over his head that he hated it, hated it here. His job was deadening, sitting in a cubicle, clicking at his keyboard, punctuated by meetings, co-workers leaning nosily into his business. 

Six lousy months at a job that wasn’t getting him any closer to breaking into the world of publishing. Budreau & Co. was a big enough name in the field that he had jumped on the chance at it, eager to prove that he could use his English degree. Here he was. Stuck in a monotonous routine. Unwilling to admit defeat and return home, but trapped under the endless gray rain clouds that smothered Seattle’s sky. 

He would take rain however, any day, over snow. He slouched off the couch and grabbed a small box that lay next to his phone on his otherwise bare counter. He tugged open the glass door to the tiny, cramped balcony, and glanced out over the city for a second. He slid the door closed behind him and shook the last cigarette out of the box, he snapped a lighter over it and leaned back against the cold glass. He had picked up the habit in college. He remembered standing outside with his friends last New Year’s. Joking, laughing, shoving each other around drunkenly. It had been snowing then too. Had it? The details were foggy. 

The city had begun to quiet under it’s thin blanket of frosty, wet snow. No one had driven along the street in front of his building. He recalled a co-worker who also hailed from the Midwest remarking on how rarely it snowed here, and how everyone made such a fuss when it did. This was the first snow he had seen here, thought Max. That was perfectly fine by him.  He shivered a little as a breeze ran through his thin t-shirt. He ground his cigarette out and retreated back inside. 

Amelia sat on the floor in front of her TV, dragging a string around for the benefit of a small, orange ball of fur that wriggled as she twitched the string. She pulled it slowly along the carpet and the delighted kitten pounced. She paused for a moment, listening to the conversation floating in from the kitchen, 

“Did you check the cupboard above the fridge?” 

“Yes! I told you I’ve checked everywhere, just ask Amelia again it’s her kitchen.” 

Her mom’s head appeared from around the doorway, “Amelia sweetie, do you know if you have any sugar?” 

“Uhh, if I did it’d be in the pantry.” 

“You could help us bake you know, we’re here to spend time with you.” 

Amelia sighed. She climbed to her feet, the kitten pawing hopefully at the limp string a few more times before scampering off across the room. She leaned against the door frame of the kitchen, taking in the mess spread across the kitchen counter. “What happened in here? It’s like my kitchen exploded.” 

Her sister Ava looked up, “We’re baking! Well, we haven’t started yet, but we’re about to!” 

“Huh. I always thought mom’s idea of baking was tossing frozen cookie dough in the oven.” 

“Well honey, we’re branching out.” her mom replied, “I thought it would be a fun New Year’s Eve thing to do.” 

Amelia took a seat at the counter. “I’ll just sit here and watch thanks.” 

Ava, who was now rummaging in the pantry, stuck her head back out, “I don’t think you actually have any sugar. You’ve seriously never baked anything the whole time you’ve lived in this apartment?” 

“Nope.” 

“Carmen hasn’t either?” 

“Definitely not.” Amelia’s roommate was even less likely than Amelia herself to be caught in any sort of baking endeavors. That evening, she had disappeared in a whirl of a fancy coat, slipping out the door under the distraction of Amelia’s mom and sister arriving. 

“She’s hardly ever here. I don’t understand how you guys can be friends.” Ava looked slightly concerned. 

Amelia shrugged, “I’d rather have the time to myself, and she’d rather never be in two nights in a row. It’s a win win.” 

“You’re so strange.” Ava shook her head at Amelia, and then remembering the sugar, threw her arms up in exasperation, “But ok seriously, no sugar?” 

“You’re currently standing in a sugar-free zone.” 

“Ok - if you actually want to be helpful here,  do you want to run to the store to get some?” 

“It’s New Year’s Eve, is anywhere even going to be open?” 

Her mom cut in, “Honey isn’t there that little market across the street? You could just pop over there and check? We really can’t make cookies without the sugar.” 

Amelia had been envisioning her usual 20 minute walk to the closest Safeway, forgetting the market that she passed by everyday, priced, she thought, for convenience rather than practicality. “Mom that market’s expensive, I don’t usually shop there.” 

“It’s just some sugar honey.” Her mom glanced at Ava’s disappointed face, and glared back at Amelia. 

“Alright fine, I’m going.” She reached for her coat, hanging next to the door. “Sure you don’t want to check the recipe and make sure you don’t need anything else?” She grabbed her purse and was halfway out the door when Ava called out, 

“Oh wait - we need chocolate chips too!” 

“Ok!” Amelia sighed and pulled the door shut behind her. It wasn’t that she didn’t want her mom and sister to be here. But when they surprised her earlier that evening, standing on her doorstep, and then in her apartment, they seemed to fill up the space in a way that left Amelia hardly any air to breathe. An illusion that could be enhanced, she reflected, by the fact that they came bearing not only a kitten, but ladden under a pile of cat-related supplies. Ava had just shrugged when Amelia questioned her, 

“Mom thinks you’re lonely. I just told her to check whether your apartment was pet friendly.” 

Amelia had offered no response to this. She was pleased, of course, more than she wanted to let on, to have a cat, but it was all a bit much for a surprise. She traipsed down the hallway and let herself out of her apartment building and onto the street. Blinking in surprise, she looked around, and then up. Great, wet flakes tumbled down from the sky, landing around her - the street was already whiteish, covered in snow. 

It hadn’t been snowing when her mom and Ava arrived a few hours earlier, and she apparently hadn’t bothered to glance out the window since. Maybe I do live a little too much in my own head, she thought. 

The snow lay undisturbed across the street, and she teetered on the sidewalk, not wanting to be the first to mar the white canvas of snow spread before her. She imagined retreating up the stairs, explaining that she couldn’t cross the street because of the snow. The street was quiet. A different quiet, the kind of quiet that only snow brings. She watched the snow swirl under the beams from the streetlights. It was the kind of quiet that makes you want to listen, and see if you can hear it falling. 

To her left, she heard a metallic noise, and another door that let out of her building swung open, and let out a silhouetted figure, who without hesitation cut across the street, leaving an arrow-straight path of footprints. She shook herself out of her reverie and looked across the street. The lights in the market looked rather dim, but she might check anyway. She stepped off the curb, and started across the street. 

Max leaned on the cold kitchen counter. He started at the dark screen of his phone. It stayed dark. He knew his friends were surely all together back home, and yet no one thought about him, missed him. He tapped the screen. It lit under his touch, showing him the time against his screensaver. Nothing. He opened a drawer and rifled through it. He shut it again, and opened the next, continuing down the counter until he ran out of drawers. He glanced at the coffee table. “Damn” he muttered. He was out of cigarettes. Would anywhere even be open at - he glanced at the clock over the stove - eight o’clock on New Year’s Eve? 

He strode over to the door and shook his jacket out, slipping it on. He slid his wallet into his pocket, and checked his phone again before dropping it in beside his wallet. He exited the building, taking an elevator down to the ground floor and slipping out a side door, letting it swing loudly shut behind him. Glancing side to side briefly, he cut across the street, striding through the snow. He had forgotten it was falling, and he could feel the wetness of it soaking up through his shoes. He reached the other side, and peered into the windows of the market. A paper sign was taped neatly to the window, facing the glass. 

Holiday Hours:

 Closed Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and New Year’s Eve

A flurry of motion caught his eye, and he looked up to see a young woman hurrying across the street, towards him. Or towards the market, he realized, as she stepped up onto the sidewalk, glancing around at the dark windows. 

“Oh, is it closed then?” She asked. 

“Ahh yes, it would appear so.” He straightened from where he had been reading the sign, slightly hunched over. He gestured towards it, “Closed New Year’s Eve.” 

Her brown eyes flitted over the sign and she brushed her dark hair off her shoulder. “I guess that means Safeway. The one on the corner of 34th and Park.” She waved a hand vaguely to her left. 

“Oh, right, yes.” Max wavered for a second. 

“It isn’t too far of a walk.” 

Max coughed, embarrassed, “How do you get there from here, again?” Usually, he drove everywhere, with the exception of the market they were standing in front of. 

“Oh.” The girl sounded surprised. “Well, I guess I’m headed there now, if you want to, umm, just come along.” 

“Uh, yes, I suppose…” He didn’t exactly want to walk, but there was no point in going all the way back to his car and driving now. 

They turned, and began walking along down the street. Max wondered apprehensively if he should start talking. He glanced at her quickly, but she seemed quite content with their silence. They walked to the end of the block and turned left. They were in a neighborhood, along a street Max had never been. It was quiet, even their footprints muffled by the snow. There were a few tire tracks on the street, but no one drove by as they walked. Max glanced in windows as they passed houses, most curtained or shuttered, but he caught a few glimpses of merry looking parties through the front windows, warm light spilling through the glass onto the sidewalks under their feet. 

They wound their way through a few streets of the neighborhood Max hadn’t known existed, and came out on Park Street. His brain finally clicked all the pieces into place. “Oh, I know where we are.” He said, surprised. 

His companion smiled, “Yes, and there’s the Safeway.” She pointed down the street, where the logo swam into sight. 

“Ahh, yes, should’ve remembered it was there.” 

“Are you new to the area?” She asked. 

“A few months.” 

She nodded. “There’s a more straightforward way to walk it, but I like going through the neighborhood. It doesn’t take much longer and it’s much nicer than on the bigger streets.” 

It was Max’s turn to nod. 

“It’s funny, I love looking in the windows of the houses. Especially now, seeing all the Christmas trees. Anyways - we’re here.” They stopped before the doors of the Safeway, which slid open to welcome them with a rush of warm air. “I’m Amelia, by the way. I think we live in the same building, Kensington Apartments? ” 

“Yeah, fifth floor.” 

“I just saw you come out the door on your way to the corner mart, so I figured.” She shrugged. The doors zoomed shut again, as they lingered in front of the store. 

 “Max.” He hesitated, and then stuck out his hand, and they shook. “Thanks for walking me over here.” 

She smiled, “No problem, Max. You can find your way home ok?” 

“Oh yeah, I’ll be fine. Happy New Year Amelia.” 

“Happy New Year Max.” 

The doors jumped open again as they made to walk through, and once inside, they parted. 

Amelia walked away from Max, her wet shoes sliding a little on the tile, looking down the aisles. Finding the baking aisle, she glanced back over her shoulder. Max was still standing by the door, and as she turned he smiled and raised a hand. She waved back, and ducked shyly into the row. Chocolate chips. Sugar. She grabbed the two items. She paused for a minute, and then pulled her phone out of her pocket. She shook her head slightly and smiled at the text on the screen. She knew her sister so well. 

Hey can you also buy baking powder?