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Happy Romance

Cold had seeped into Aimee’s boots hours ago, her feet an aching mess. She regretted settling for the pair of insubstantial ankle socks instead of the warm, wool pair in storage; it was the first snow of the year and recently, Aimee had been lazy. She’d wanted nothing less than to root through bins of clothes for a single pair of socks, and so, here she was: cold. Aimee scrunched her toes, wincing, then turned to trudge up the hill she’d flown down only moments before. Although her feet felt like ice blocks, beneath her heavy jacket and snow-pants, Aimee was a puddle. She swore she was actually melting. Inactivity had crept in with the cold weather this season, and today was the first time she found herself out of breath in months. Muddy snow slipped under worn soles as she ascended the heavily trodden incline. 

Only four inches of snow had settled the night before, patches of grass were easily spotted down the course of the hill, but die-hard sledders could not be dissuaded by a few inches too little. Honestly, Aimee wasn’t quite sure if she could call herself and James “die-hard sledders;” she wasn’t quite sure if she could call James a die-hard anything. Though it’d been a few too many years to keep track of since her last winter-wonderland adventure, Aimee would be damned if she let a single soul at this snowy suburban golf course categorize her sledding as “out of practice.” That was for sure. 

Climbing the hill seemed a far more substantial feat than it had an hour ago. Even so, immediately upon reaching the top, Aimee threw herself right back onto her saucer. Winded from the trek, her sledding partner James watched, both exhausted and awed by her boundless energy, as Aimee whipped down the ice shrieking. She weaved around children, slid between parents. Not that it was a competition, but speed unmatched, Aimee was absolutely smoking these kids. Amused eyes followed the course of her over exuberance until she slowed to a gentle stop, only then finally quieting down. How wasn’t she tired yet? With an increasingly present grin, James hopped on his sled, tailbone sore from the uneven course and followed her as he always did. 

He met Aimee at the base of the slope. Clumps of snow hung above her forehead in the wool of her hat, her now matted braids messier than ever. Wet eyelashes framed wide eyes, manic with juvenile glee. 

Aimee lifted ol’ reliable––the mangled metal saucer that barely qualified as a sled––with whoop of triumph. Thumbs up. It was on this very disk, James had learned earlier that afternoon, that she had broken her wrist, what was it, eighteen years ago now? Twenty? Aimee remembered it perfectly: shrill as ever she had rushed down the ice, fearless. Towards the barely-passable-snow-ramp she sped. By some freak of physics, the only partially distinguishable “ramp” had sent her tiny nine year old body soaring, only to crash back down with a sickening crunch. James could only imagine that her shrieks were less joyous after that one. The saucer had never been quite the same since, Aimee said. It still had a rather sizable dent right in the center from that particular incident. For today however, it would certainly do.

Unsurprisingly, James had no similar stories to contribute. He had been a cautious child. On his way to the park on a snow day, elementary-aged-James donned knee-pads under his snow pants for extra safety. Of course, no matter how hard he resisted, his mother had always required the protection of a helmet as well. Upon hearing this, Aimee had guffawed; head thrown back she snorted.

“You were such a funny kid.” 

James had considered keeping it quiet, self-conscious of his awkward manner then and now, but he was glad that he hadn’t. After a life of careful revision, he savored Aimee’s quick, over dramatic, completely unabashed reactions to virtually anything. She was a character alright. All James could do was try to keep up. 

Aimee squared her shoulders and peered back up the hill, already anticipating her next run. She hadn’t felt anything like this in years; this was unadulterated joy in its simplest form. This was childhood’s greatest hits meets adulthood. This was elation, exhilaration, and Aimee was practically vibrating. Total physical exhaustion was kept at bay by youthful delight as she sled alongside kids still requiring parental supervision. A rosy nose in the center of her flushed face, Aimee’s enthusiasm was so palpable she almost felt embarrassed. Almost. Aimee never felt shame for loving the simple act of existing.

James stole another glance back at his partner as he pushed himself upright. He hadn’t felt anything like this ever. James considered himself a typically subdued man while Aimee generally held the role of jaunty, buoyant socialite. But today? Today James was consumed by an indescribably expansive sense of vigor. This woman was bright. She was life herself––abundance at it’s very definition––and James could feel it seeping into him. It had started at his fingers, warming his hands within their mittens. It had crept up his arms until the feeling overwhelmed his chest. It spread further, filling his head and belly until James figured the smile stretching across his face ought to be permanent. A smile this powerful couldn’t possibly go away; his eyes were to be fixed in an ever present crinkle.

Aimee was already ahead. With a start, James realized that she had made her way halfway back to the hilltop. James was off again, scrambling after her. 

This was a moment, he thought as he caught up with Aimee at the crest. This was a moment where time stopped and the two of them were just alive. Reality was frozen, far more solid than the slushy mud-snow mixture at his feet and James could only hope the springtime sun would be late this year. Hands on his knees, he took a breather. A few hours of sledding was beginning to feel like a marathon. He listened as Aimee laughed, the sound almost as incredible as the woman herself. Here they were: adults playing children for the afternoon, and he couldn't help but grow increasingly intoxicated by the infectiousness of her spirit, of her infinite youth. James rose, already looking to the base of the slope to spot her. Her vibrancy brought constant motion, he hadn’t known Aimee to stand in one spot for more than a minute or two. To his surprise, she was still waiting beside him.

Aimee turned to James, eyes bright.

“Let’s go down together this time.” 

He had been mistaken. This was the moment he’d hope would last forever.

January 21, 2021 03:48

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5 comments

19:27 Jan 26, 2021

I love your story and how you express the feeling of Aimee so clearly, it is like witnessing it with my own eyes! I even loved the name "Infinite Youth" because it portrays a lot in this topic. If you don't mind, can you please come and read my story too? If you have enough time, can you please like and follow me too? (Only if you want to, but I would deeply appreciate it.)

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Rachel Small
19:42 Jan 26, 2021

Yes! I'd love to read your story! Thank you for the comment!!

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Rachel Small
19:45 Jan 26, 2021

Woah sorry about that! Haha!

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20:13 Jan 26, 2021

It's fine, it happens to me too!

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Emily Trucco
11:33 Jan 27, 2021

I loved the description of James' cautious childhood - the kneepads being his idea and not his parents' was a really nice touch! I found that it was hard to follow who's head I was in with it switching back and forth between Aimee and James. I would recommend sticking with one point of view and having more dialogue to let both characters' personalities shine through. I really enjoyed reading this though! Looking forward to seeing more of your stories :)

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