Snow

Betty looked out over the crisp morning, the rooftops of the colonials and ranchers covered in snow, like a scene from a picture book. But the snow at her feet was already drab from the commuters and school buses. Nothing ever stayed pristine in the suburbs. Betty had chosen her house because it was near good schools and public transport but now she wondered if she should have chosen one with better snow removal. Her socks were wet and she was cold from standing in snow drifts waiting on the dog to do his business. No one that lived in the houses lining the street cared about the snow because their houses were also near good schools and public transport. The dog did not care about those things either or Betty’s wet socks. He was on a mission. The kids, not Betty, had insisted on getting the puppy. But where were they now? They promised they would play with him and feed him and take care of him. But that was before. Twelve years before to be exact. Now, the kids, grown and on their own, have better things to do than walk the dog or to see Betty. They only call or come by when they need something, like laundry or money. When they left, so did the noise, chaos and clutter. At some point the husband had left as well. Oh yes, there was a husband. Betty vaguely remembered him and something about a secretary, but between the messy divorce and the pristine house, Betty had forgotten some of the details. And so it was just Betty and the dog now.

“Come on, Wubbzy.” Betty whispered, hating to say the name too loudly but the kids insisted on it. Named after some cartoon character they were obsessed with, but now long forgotten.

“Come on, hurry up” Betty repeated. Wubbzy paid no heed to her urgency. Deciding instead to dig out a mailbox. Betty looked at her watch, but time was still moving at its normal pace which meant at this rate she would be late for work. She sighed. Not that it mattered. Honestly she could just not show up and they wouldn't even notice until the papers on her desk became someone else’s problem. She sighed again and gave a little tug on Wubbzy’s leash. Then, another with a little more force and this time Wubbzy obliged, apparently satisfied with his excavation. Betty started walking back toward the lonely cape cod, not noticing that Wubbzy had brought along a souvenir. Once inside, Betty bent down to unhook the leash and noticed the object in his mouth.

“Drop it Wubbzy. You shouldn't steal toys from the neighbors.” She gently chided him, but wasn’t really mad. The neighbors had left her just like her children and the husband. Gone were the barbecues and pool parties, the suburban soirees that filled her younger days. Now it was a polite wave or a brief exchange of pleasantries as lost mail was handed back and forth. So if Wubbzy wanted to steal a toy of theirs, who was she to stop him? But she needed to make sure it was safe before she let him keep it.

“Drop it” she repeated as she put her hand out. Wubbzy obliged and dropped the now wet and slimy ball. He wagged his tail, awaiting some type of reward from a trick that was taught long ago. Betty absentmindedly scratched him on the head as she realized quickly that this was not a toy abandoned in the snow. Mainly because it was glass, and while she was no toy expert that seemed to be an unlikely material for one. But what it was exactly, she wasn't sure but if she looked hard enough, she could almost see…

“Bark! Bark! Bark!”

She jumped, almost dropping the orb. She shook herself out of the trance and realized that she was still holding Wubbzy’s leash and he was still attached. Wubbzy was eager to get to his full day of napping, so she unhooked him and hung the leash up as he skittered away to claim his spot on the couch. The sunlight filtered in through the window, warming the spot perfectly in the morning, but by noon he would have to move to stay in the sun. A dog's job is never done. Unlike Betty, whose job of wife and mother was completed years ago despite everyone’s insistence that she still clock in every day. She meandered to the kitchen, her previous urgency to get to work, forgotten. Betty washed the grime of the suburbs off of the glass and as she spun it in her hand light particles fell dreamily within. She shook it a little to dry it off and the particles responded, swirling in a frenzy. She held it up to the window and as the small flakes settled, Betty startled when she realized she was holding a snow-globe. Of course Betty had seen snow-globes before, her kids had them from various beach towns they visited through the years. No, that's not what had startled her. This snow-globe was an exact replica of her very neighborhood, but not as the neighborhood looked now but how it looked then. Before college, jobs, and perky girlfriends changed everything.. She could see her neighbor’s pool, the one he closed a decade ago. It was the world from her memories, just covered in artificial snow and glitter instead of dust. If she squinted her eyes, she could almost see her kids playing in the pool. And was that the husband standing at the grill, a beer in his hand, laughing? That was something she didn’t think she would ever see again. She was now positive that those were her kids and husband swimming and laughing with the neighbors, no not neighbors, friends. They were still friends in those days. But where was she? Why wasn’t she in this tableau?

“Ring…ring…ring”

The sound of the phone startled her out of her haze, the globe teetering on the edge of her fingers. She gently placed it on the table and noticed that snow was falling outside the window again.

“Ring…ring…ring”

“I'm coming.” she obliged the phone, picking up hastily.

“Hello”

“Hi, Mrs. Fuhrman? Our company is in the neighborhood, water proofing some of your neighbors' basements. Would you be interested in a free quote? With all the recent snow, we may have epic flooding on our way. You wouldn’t want it to destroy your basement, causing mold and foundation issues would you?”

“Of course not,” Betty responded. The husband had always dealt with stuff like that so she had no clue about water damage on foundations but it seemed like a genuine concern.

“Wonderful, I have some guys in the area, and they can stop by tomorrow afternoon if you are available?. The quote is free and you are under no obligation but you sound like an intelligent woman” Betty nodded like the person on the other end could see her.

“ and will make a great decision in allowing us to treat your basement. I mean, we store such important things down there, photo books, baby clothes, really all of our memories are just stashed away in a snow-globe somewhere.”

“What?” Betty asked frantically, listening to the conversation now.

“I said we really store all of our memories in our basements don't we?”

“Oh, oh yes, yes of course we do.” Betty’s eyes drifted back to the snow-globe.

“My guys will be out tomorrow afternoon to inspect your basement and give you a quote. Thank you so much for your time Mrs. Fuhrnan. Have a good day.”

“Yeah, of course, you too.” Betty hung up the phone. Somewhere in the back of her brain she realized that she would have to tell those nice men that were coming tomorrow, that she did not have a basement, but that was a problem for tomorrow Betty.

Today, Betty needed to figure out this snow-globe. She picked it up once again and tried to hold it steady so the snow inside would settle. But the swirling was intense and Betty could not make out the little pool or grill anymore. Taking a deep breath Betty allowed her body to go still, so still she could almost feel her heart skip a beat, and soon the snow settled on the bottom. But this time, instead of a pool, there was a soccer field. Not just any soccer field but her soccer field. She recognized it because she spent so much time there when her oldest was young. Soccer was her life for those years despite not even understanding the game, but she loved those days spent on the field.. For a brief moment, Betty put the globe down and considered picking up the phone and calling her eldest. Maybe asking if they had watched the match this past weekend, or calling the youngest and asking how classes were going? Or to find out what they were up to now, or maybe just to simply hear their voices. But then she thought better of it. Her children were busy, too busy for her,and her nonsensical ramblings. So picking up the snow-globe again Betty peered at the miniature field inside. She could see the goals, and the little players, the sidelines where the mothers sat in folding chairs handing out oranges and juice boxes. The coaches were standing at the edge, shifting from foot to foot, eager to play but sidelined by their own children. The husband had coached for a year or two. Before he hired that new secretary. But here in the snow-globe, there were no secretaries and the sun was shining. She smiled and could almost feel the warmth on her face. Her oldest was running down the field to make the winning goal and the husband was cheering. Even her youngest was there playing on the playground. But not Betty. She had attended every game. Why wouldn’t she be included? She shook the globe, a little harder than she planned but this dollar store knick-knack was starting to make her mad.

She sighed. Betty really needed to get to work. She was surprisingly stiff and wondered if she had overexerted herself walking the dog.. She looked up expecting to see Wubbzy on the sofa but found he had already moved to his afternoon spot, curled up in the chair. His fur, now more gray than gold, was illuminated by the afternoon sun. Betty glanced at the microwave clock. 2:59 p.m. Had she really been sitting here that long? And missed an entire day of work? She looked at the phone and the answering machine was blinking red. Someone had called and left a message. But before she could think of any of that, something in the globe caught her eye.

Inside those glass walls, the scene had changed again. Now it was her living room, washed in the lights of a Christmas morning long since forgotten. She really should get up, at least to get a drink of water. Maybe take an aspirin. Her head was bothering her. But one more look inside couldn’t hurt. Then she would go about the rest of her day, or evening at this rate. She pulled the globe closer again, and could see the tree in the corner, presents piled high around it. The kids were older now, sitting on the couch, playing on some device. She could never keep track between the Nintendo and the x-boxes. The husband was standing in the doorway. Wubbzy was even there, curled up next to the youngest, looking like the golden puppy she remembered. Betty smiled at the scene, everyone together and happy. But something was different with this one. Of course, she was missing again, this damn tchotchke was definitely pissing her off, but there was something more than that. There was a stillness that hung over the scene. No one was opening gifts or laughing. They weren’t setting up dollhouses or building bikes or singing carols. The husband wasn't even paying attention, too busy on the phone. That damn phone. Betty wondered if he was talking to her, the other one. She remembered this, when Christmas became so quiet, so lonely, everyone busy with their own worlds.. But that's what kids do, fly the coop. Betty had read all the books on how to handle it, but not him too, not the husband. He was supposed to navigate the empty nest with her, not find a new one with a younger prettier bird and move to Florida so he didn’t have to see snow or Betty again. She could feel her rage bubbling within her. Her heart fluttered as she slammed the snow-globe down on the table.

“Bang!”

She startled, panicked that she had broken it but it was just Wubbzy coming back in the doggy door from the backyard. Betty realized that the house was dark and the sun had set a while ago. She forced herself to push her chair back and get up from the table. Her legs felt wobbly. She poured some kibble into Wubbzy’s bowl and found a piece of cheese and some strawberries that weren't covered in mold and snacked while watching the snow fall outside. She opened one of the kitchen windows as a hot flash overtook her. Betty could feel the sweat beading on her forehead and the cold air felt nice as some of the snowflakes fluttered inside. She thought about all the time and effort she put into everything over the years and how she had made a little world for everyone else but now she was not invited into theirs. Even that cheap souvenir shop bric-a-brac excluded her. There was no Christmas or soccer without her. She had been the glue. Not very good glue, Betty thought sarcastically, as she couldn’t hold anything together. But Christmas morning? That was the culmination of all of her work.. How could this dime store bauble have the audacity to forget her? Betty could feel her heart racing and remembered her doctor had warned her about the risk of heart attacks so she took a couple of deep breaths and decided that it was time for bed. She started toward the stairs, but her heart fluttered with each step. The globe called to her. Just one more quick peek before she turned in for the night. Maybe this time it would be her wedding day, or the birth of her kids. Betty picked up the snow-globe one more time. But the more she studied it, the more confusing the scene became. She willed the glitter and snow to settle so she could see it better but everything was blurry. Somewhere off in the distance she heard the bang of the doggy door again, and realized she never took Wubbzy for his evening walk.. She didn’t bother to look up, because the scene inside the globe was clearing and she could see a table. It looked like her kitchen but there were so many people standing around she couldn’t be sure. She heard faint knocking and at first thought it was coming from the snow-globe but then she heard voices and realized they were too far away for her to bother.

“Mrs Fuhrman. We are from the water proofing company. We are here for your free estimate. Mrs. Fuhrman?" The knocks and voices eventually faded away completely.

“I don’t even have a basement” Betty said to no one in particular. She sat back abruptly. How had she not seen it? She had been so focused looking for children that she didn’t recognize them as they are now. The husband was there as well but gray haired, not like she remembered him, and of course the secretary standing next to him. Though Betty thought that she liked to be called the wife now. But still no Betty. Wubbzy was even there, excitedly winding through the legs of all the people. All of them gathered around the table together, hugging and holding each other like they were crying. The whole scene was covered in snow. Other people in uniform started to file into the kitchen, and someone with a stethoscope shook his head. Betty’s eyes were starting to hurt, and her headache was getting worse. She shivered and a pain shot through her arm. She gently placed the globe on the table and blinked, struggling to keep her eyes open.

“I feel so tired,” she said to no one in particular. The dog was on the couch in his evening spot, resigned to not getting a walk today. The light was fading again, and Betty did not think she had the energy to walk up the stairs. So she picked up the snow-globe and shook it one last time but her grip failed and it slipped out of her hand rolling to the floor. She felt tears fall from her eyes as glittery snow fell around her. Betty watched the swirling snow as she laid her head on the table. She thought about her kids, both then and now, and missed them with all her heart, and even the husband but maybe not the secretary. There were good memories still to be had but not for Betty. It was too late for that and she felt a pang of regret as her eyes closed. The snow picked up outside again blowing in through the open window and the blue and red emergency lights lit up the small kitchen like a snow-globe on Christmas morning.