The Snow Day

Winter was my least favorite season.

The sky was always either a pale gray or white, my feet would never be warm no matter how many “heated socks” I wore, and the ice made the ends of every building a hundred times more dangerous.

Yet here I was, inside a café looking out at the snowy expanse of my town’s main street, sipping a latte that had gone sour on my tongue.

I don’t enjoy many things.

My siblings swear I stopped smiling after my seventeenth birthday. I remember it so clearly, waking up looking forward to the evening of my family party.

I walked to the dining room, where a plate of bacon and eggs was waiting for me. My birthday that year fell on a Saturday, so my parents and twin siblings were all free to do something.

Snow fell from the sky in fat, lazy chunks. It was a winter wonderland outside, with my birthday falling in the middle of holiday break.

“What’s your birthday wish, Asher?” my dad asked. I usually answered with something along the lines of “It’s a secret” or “I need to blow out the candles first.”

That day, he seemed more tired than usual. There were more bags under his eyes. His hand was shaking as he gripped his coffee mug. I thought it was because of work reasons. Or the coffee jitters.

“I wish for a restful winter break,” I answered, scarfing down my bacon.

I wanted to at least finish my latte before I left. The foam art had shrunk, almost completely swallowed up by the espresso. It was good, I couldn’t lie, but I felt like it was a tad bit expensive for how much drink I got.

My phone buzzed. It was a text from my younger sister. Are you okay?

Yes, I typed back. How are you doing this morning?

Fine. Just out sledding with Flint.

I’m glad you guys are making the most of today.

Are you sure you want to be alone? Come meet us at the park.

I pressed my lips together. I’m good. Have fun.

My latte was almost done. I bought it because I wanted to feel more like an adult. I had already turned 24, having been born in the early morning. Adults were supposed to be sophisticated, drinking their morning coffees to prepare for their stable nine-to-fives, not bogged down by anything. They had their feelings figured out. I was supposed to be smart, confident. Happy.

“Hey, Asher!” Mr. Green said from behind the cash register. “How are you doing with that latte?”

I’ve known Mr. Green since I moved here. He was the owner of the coffee shop, and one of the first people that welcomed my family to town. “It’s very good, thanks.”

I paused for a moment. “I think I should have ordered a hot chocolate, though,” I added, turning to him wiping away crumbs and mug stains on the counter.

“Oh really? Why is that?”

“My dad made the best hot chocolates. I don’t usually have a sweets fix, but they hit the spot after a big dinner.”

We both went silent for a few minutes. Mr. Greene gave me a concerned look, then walked over to my table and patted my shoulder.

“If you ever need to talk, you can always come to me,” he said finally. “Have a good rest of your morning, my dear.”

I nodded as he walked back to the counter and continued to clean. A stray drop of coffee slid down my mug and made a small circle on the table.

I decided that I wanted to go meet my siblings after all. Taking my mug, I got up from my seat and put it on the bottom row of a two-tiered shelf for Mr. Greene to wash, minding the different arrays of sugar and stirrers on the top. While I was there, I grabbed a napkin and headed back, making sure to clean the table thoroughly.

I put on my winter coat, scarf, hat, and mittens, waving goodbye to Mr. Greene. Opening the door, I smiled a bit as the bell jingled. As soon as I was outside, dread began to creep through my system. A snowflake fell on the tip of my nose, dissolving into water as soon as it touched my skin.

Before I could go to the park, there was one stop I needed to make.

After breakfast, I wanted to read on the couch. My dad came over and sat next to me, setting down a mug of hot chocolate on the coffee table.

“You’re almost 18, kid.” He said. “How do you feel?”

“I need to enjoy being 17 first,” I responded. “The internet says that I'm in my eighteenth year of life, because the seventeenth is the year I completed.”

My dad laughed. “That sounds very insightful. How about we go on the back trail for old times’ sake? Just you and your old man. The snow just started to fall, so it's not going to be a problem walking."

I liked the weather. I walked the trail a lot more when I was younger, back when Adelaine and Flint weren’t born yet. It was me and my dad’s tradition. There were two different ways it ended, opening up to a circle of trees, or an entryway into one side of town. We used to sit in the middle of the clearing and talk about how tall the trees were compared to us, looking up at their clawed branches. The trail brought me and my dad closer, and I felt like I understood him more.

“Sure,” I said. “Let’s go.”

We both bundled up and went out the back door. Snow crunched underneath my boots. My breathing was steady, even though my scarf was pushing up against my nose and lips. The path was rocky, winding left, right, and then another hard left. I stepped into the clearing first. I was about to reach the middle when my dad stopped me in my tracks.

“Asher, I want you to know something.”

“Yeah?”

He turned me around to face him. “I think you are a smart, kind, and amazing young lady. I’m proud of you for being my daughter.”

I smiled. “Thanks dad, but I already knew that.”

He shook his head, his expression suddenly somber. “I’m not going to be around forever. When that day comes, I want you to take good care of your mom, Adelaine, and Flint. For as long as it takes.”

“Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?” I asked. “What’s going on?”

My dad paused for a second. “There’s something else you need to know.”

I forced down the dread as I sped walked through town. Past the café was the candy store, and to the left of that was Paula’s Place. Some people that I passed shot me pitying glances that I ignored. Over time, I had gotten used to them.

I needed to see it, the other trail opening that led to the church alongside the park.

It had been years since I even stepped foot in that general direction. As soon as I saw the gravel sidewalk that led into the forest, my heart felt like it was about to pound out of my chest.

A memory flooded into my mind.

“Asher, I want you to know that I will never, ever stop wishing the best for you. No matter what happens, just remember that.”

“Stop scaring me, Dad. I don’t like this.” I was upset now, tears beginning to swell in my eyes.

“Now, I want you to go back to the house and have a nice day with your mother, sister, and brother. I need to go into town for a second.”

“No. I want to go with you.”

“Honey, it’ll only be for a quick while. I will be back as soon as I can, okay?”

My dad burst off in the other direction. I had never seen him run like that since I played tag with him when I was still in elementary school.

I decided not to listen to him and followed his tracks straight to the town entrance. As soon as I got there, I was hit by a wave of commotion.

The police lights were bold, angry against the gray sky and the fast-falling snow. As soon as we came out of the woods, they made me stand back as they forced my dad closer to their car. There was a small crowd of people that gathered near the scene, speaking in hushed whispers.

“Brent Driscoll,” an officer said, “You’re under arrest for multiple counts of identity theft and embezzlement. You have the right to an attorney…”

The shock rendered me speechless. It was as if my vision had shrunk, the world closing in around me. This can’t be right, they’ve got their facts mixed up. My dad would never do such things. He’s a good guy. He’s always been a good person.

I wanted to go up to the cop and stare him down. I already knew what I was going to ask. "Why should I believe you? You don't even know him."

I fell on my knees, tears sliding down my face. I could only watch as the patrol car drove off to the police station with my dad in tow.

I found out that he had been stealing money from my family’s savings in order to pay off his gambling debt for years. He had also been on the run for even longer than that.

My body seemed to be frozen in place. It was wrong of me to come here. It was wrong of me to assume that the pain would have faded by now.

Suddenly, two familiar faces came into view. My sister and brother were walking towards me, sleds under each of their arms.

“We’re here to stop you from being an asshole towards yourself,” Adelaine said, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the park. "There was nothing you could have done to stop anything."

Flint nodded. “Asher, I stopped believing your "I'm good" texts a long time ago. I want you to have a nice birthday today. Please."

I stared at them, dumbfounded. The snowflakes continued to fall, slowly, lazily this time.

As I followed my siblings, I realized that I was smiling a little bit.