A Year of Winter

twelve

 December 17th, 2012

“This is my favorite spot in Buffalo to eat.”

I looked across a booth from Winter as a uninterested middle aged woman with her hair tied back into a slicked, greasy bun handed us our menus. She whipped out a pen from her pocket and in a monotone voice, she droned on, as if read from a card, “Hello, and welcome to Charlie’s Diner, where love is in every bite. May I take your order?”

Coming from a woman who looked like she’d very well spit in our food, even the most considerate of introductions was not reassuring.

I looked across the table at Winter and smiled lopsidedly, but before I could even ask her to order, she had slammed the menu down, decided.

“Chocolate chip pancakes, please!” She chirped excitedly, grinning.

The woman looked at her strangely, narrowing her eyes at her as if she was confused by her enthusiasm. I grinned, finding amusement at Winter’s childish excitement, and at the woman’s disinterest as she jotted down her order and took away her menu. She spun towards me, her piercing stare directed at me, “And you, son?”

I glanced over at Winter, and smiled, handing the woman my menu. “I’ll have the same as her.”

The woman nodded, sighing as she took down my order right next to Winter’s. “I’ll be back soon with your orders,” she said, nodding at both of us before turning away, heading towards the back. Once she’d left, I rolled up the sleeves of my sweater, adjusting my glasses as Winter sipped at the milkshake she’d ordered at noon.

I grinned at her, “Going all out, huh?”

She looked up, wiping the chocolate from her mouth with the back of her hand. “I rarely make it into the city, it’s worth it.” She said with a smirk. She leaned against the table, her bony elbows hitting the wooden surface with a clink. “You’ll love the pancakes here, trust me. They’re my favorite.”

I nodded, hopeful that they would be. I played with the straw of my water, letting the ice cubes dance in suspension, happy to be with Winter, yet having something much heavier weighing in on my mind. She seemed to notice something was wrong, as she often did, and spoke up, “Are you alright, Henry?”

I looked up at her, blinking. I straightened my posture and nodded, “O-oh, yeah. I’m okay, I mean…I was just wondering about something.”

“About what?” She asked, intrigued as she pulled herself closer over the table, her hair falling to frame her pale face.

I thought of all the things that’d been running through my head for the past months; all about the boy from the party, about Winter and Noelle, and about everything that Winter was hiding behind that seemingly innocent face of hers that seemed to carry the weight of the world. I scratched my neck nervously, not reluctant to talk, but more indecisive on where to start.

“Well,” I started awkwardly. “I was just…thinking…you know, about how we’ve spent a lot of time together lately.”

She nodded naively, grinning, “Yeah. I’ve had fun, haven’t you?”

“Yes, definitely,” I said, nodding. She didn’t quite seem to pick up what I meant; granted, I wasn’t quite sure what I meant, either. “But, anyway, I was just thinking…I mean, we’ve spent so much time together—but we don’t really know each other.”

She paused to look at me more intently, her head tilting to the side. She frowned, deep in puzzlement, “…I think I know you pretty well, Henry.” She said quietly, sounding nearly confused.