Thank you for the Gloves

It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark. The lingering winter sun rested lazily in the dulled sky. The streets had been plowed earlier that day, but the rapid fall of snow from the sky left the streets covered with a thick blanket of white. Tire tracks carved through the snow, leaving trails of gray within the pristine white display.

It was beautiful out, but that beauty meant little to the young woman who huddled at the bus stop with nothing but a thin coat and a hastily stuffed backpack.

In the rush to gather her stuff, a pair of mittens had been left behind. Most of her things had been left in the rush to flee from their home. As she sat under the flickering light of the bus stop, trembling fingers pressed against her quivering lips, she chastised herself for being so careless. She had been in a rush, and she repeated to herself that forgetting a pair of gloves was a much better outcome than him returning home and her still being there.

She didn’t want to think of the state he would be in, when he ended his long work day, only to find the kitchen cold, the house quiet and her gone. He would be furious, but tiptoeing around his volatile emotional state was no longer her concern. Or at least it won’t be, whenever the bus arrived and took her far away from this town.

The snow was falling heavily now. It clung to her lashes and dotted her dark hair with its stark white flurries. She could feel her fingers struggling to gather warmth beneath her flesh. Despite how much she blew into them, the heat of her breath did little to bring the feeling back to her pale hands. She shoved them into her coat, grasping at the thick sweater underneath. She clung to herself, despite how much it hurt her fingers to force them to move.

The light above her flickered. She raised her gaze to it, wondering if it would be better or worse for the beam to grow dark. She felt far too noticeable as the sickly yellow light shined down upon her.

There were very few cars driving down this section of the street right now, but with each one that passed, she found herself shrinking deeper into herself to not be seen. Her gaze locked on each car, feeling a sense of slow building relief as it continued to drive on.

Still, as the snow fell and it got colder, she begged for this bus to finally arrive. She glanced down at her phone, noting the time – a part of her feared each time she checked, that his texts might start buzzing, despite her blocking his number. The bus was meant to be here any moment, but as the minutes ticked by she wondered how much of a delay there normally was. It had been some time since she’d needed to take the bus, but he had made sure to take her car keys with him when he went to work that day.

She looked over at the Christmas market about a block down the road. It was brightly lit, with multicolored lines of twinkling lights framing the pop up wooden stalls. With the snow falling around it, and the last lingering shoppers gathering their purchases, it looked like a timeless Christmas card. Music could be faintly heard, a variety of Christmas jingles to really bring the festive atmosphere together. There were a handful of people milling around. She watched a pair of young children rushing after their parents and several couples clinging to each other as they shopped.

She had always wished to visit the market with him. It had been a highlight of her childhood, visiting these little popup shops with her family. They’d moved through the stalls, begging their parents to buy them all the little trinkets they did not need, and giant mugs of hot cocoa that tasted like liquid gold. Each year, they got to pick out a new ornament for the tree, and each year it had been a highlight for her and her sister.

When she had moved to this town, on his behest, she’d been thrilled to find a similar market setting up that first Christmas. She had begged him to go with her. They’d been hitting the first of their rough patches, and this was something she thought could help their relationship. He’d agreed to go with her begrudgingly, complaining the whole week leading up.

It had been a short lived trip, him getting rather aggravated by the persistent Christmas music, the overpriced trinkets and the hot cocoa he complained tasted burnt. She’d been deflated, giving in when he wished to leave. She hadn’t even made it to the stale selling glass ornaments.

She didn’t ask him to go with her that next year. This year she hadn’t even considered the Christmas market.

The trembling cold in her hands brought her focus back to this moment. She did consider making her way over to the market, sure that there would be a pair of gloves to be found.

The fear of missing the bus kept her seated upon the snow covered bench.

Besides, she didn’t have her debit card – he was always so particular about what ‘his’ money was spent on, despite her paycheck also going into their joint account – and had made sure to collect that when he’d taken her keys. The spare change she’d collected from doing laundry was enough to get her the bus fare, she doubted she’d have enough to spar on gloves.

A chilled wind raced down the quiet street. She pulled her coat closer, burying her face into the brown fur lining her collar. Her short bobbed hair did nothing to protect the back of her neck.

The crunching of boots against the snow gave way to a deep voice.

“You look like you could use a warm drink.” An older man appeared, bundled in the proper amount of clothing for the weather – thick tanned coat, and matching set of emerald scarf, gloves and hat. She felt even colder in her poorly dressed attire.

His wrinkled face was lined by a thick black beard that had snow clinging to it. He was smiling brightly, holding two paper cups in his hand. A brightly wrapped present rested under the crock of his arm, and a bag was slung over his shoulder.

“I got it from the cart,” he said, nodding towards the market. “It’s the best hot cocoa in town.”

Taking a drink from a strange man at a bus stop seemed like a horrible idea, but she was freezing and the steam coming out of the cup vent looked appealing. She reached out, grimacing as her still frigid fingers met the chilled air. Warmth flowed through her hands the moment she took the Styrofoam cup. She brought it to her lips, savoring the rich and thick liquid. It tasted like liquid gold.

“Thank you,” she muttered, finding the heat rising to her cheeks.

The old man nodded, pushing some of the snow off the bench to sit. The wind beating against her side was blocked by his larger form. As she drank the cocoa, a pair of brown gloves were placed on her lap. She looked at them, resisting the urge to shove her hands into them.

She turned towards the man. “I cannot take these.”

He merely took a sip of his cup. “I would feel horrible sitting here, while the woman beside me was clearly cold. Please, take them.”

She had learned not to argue. Placing the cup between her knees, she slipped the gloves over her hands. Slowly, warmth was returning to her. She took the cup again, breathing in the scent. “Thank you. I can’t pay you for them.”

“It’s almost Christmas,” he continued to sip, “consider it a gift. I have to ask though, what adventure is the bus going to be taking you on.”

She looked at him, and down at the backpack by her feet. They weren’t too far away from other people if the guy turned out to be weird, but they were still distant enough that she feared what he might do if his intentions were soured. She wiggled in her seat and dug her boots into the snow.

The snow was falling rapidly. The carved tire tracks in the road were quickly filling back up. The chill in the air continued to nip at her neck but her hands felt much better.

“Just seeing family.”

There was nothing at the end of the bus line for her but a homeless shelter that she hoped still had at least one bed free. She had called earlier, and they regretfully told her that they could not hold a place for her. She needed to be there before seven o’clock and they closed the door for the night. The bus was already running late, making her timing tonight even tighter. Her grip on the mug was firm, and she clenched her jean covered legs tighter as worry coursed through her.

Another truck went by, this one driving far too fast. Snow flew around the tires, and came close to spray on them. She watched the car’s taillights, finding the tension in her shoulders relaxing just slightly. For a moment there, she had feared that it was his truck.

Turning her attention back to the strange man, she decided to continue his conversation. “Where are you off to?”

His smile grew even brighter. There was almost a twinkle in his eyes as he looked at her and patted the wrapped box between them.

“Off to see the kids for the holidays. My son was supposed to pick me up, but his tire decided to blow. My daughter-in-law just had their third kid, another little girl, so she’s still home bound. My youngest son is coming from out of state with his family, and figured it would be easier to meet them at a bus station they’d be passing by anyhow. Gave me a chance to stop at the market and get a few extra gifts.”

She nodded, finding her chest growing tight at the thought of a family get together. She hadn’t seen her own family in two years. They’d stopped reaching out after she’d shut them out so many times. It had taken her far too long to realize how easily he had separated her from those closest to her.

It should have been a bright and waving red flag when he’d told her they needed to move across the state; that she needed to quit the job she had loved, and needed to block the numbers of her friends who did not like him. She had ignored that warning deep within her chest. Sitting at a freezing bus stop, with no future clear ahead of her, she wished beyond wishes that she’d paid more attention.

The next vehicle speeding towards them began to slam on its breaks. Snow flew in a hectic spray as the truck stopped in front of the bus stop. The warmth that had returned to her body left as the passenger side’s window rolled down.

Despite the distance between them, David’s hardened gaze was clear to see, as was his tightened grip on his steering wheel. “Get in the car.”

She continued to sit on that snow covered bench, clenching her glove covered hands tighter around her cup. The chill set deep within her body.

“Get in the car, Wendy!”

At his raised tone, she stood. Her boots slid slightly in the snowy mush. She grabbed her backpack, but made no further moves to get in the car.

“You alright?” The older man beside her asked. He looked between her and the very irritated man in the truck. There was a frown forming on his lips, and a narrowing in his brow. “No need to yell, young man.”

David turned his glare onto the man. “Stay out of my business. Let's go. Its fucking cold.”

She was shaking and it wasn’t because of the cold. He was always so good about keeping himself in check around other people. He was charming, with an air about him that convinced most people that he was the perfect and attentive boyfriend. Very rarely did he let that facade drop around others.

The bus had not arrived yet, and she could see no signs of it arriving anytime soon. David was tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, growing more and more irritated as she stood there. She had learned rather quickly not to make a bigger mess of herself, not when he got like this.

As she took a step towards the truck, the man reached for her. She moved too quickly, darting across the sidewalk. As she reached the truck, she grasped the doorknob and looked over her shoulder. The man looked very concerned, and like he might protest against her getting into the car.

“Thank you for the cocoa. And the gloves. Merry Christmas.”

As soon as she was in the truck and the door closed, David went peeling away. The truck swerved against the snow covered ground. She noticed his phone opened and placed in the coin cabby with the GPS still open. It should have crossed her mind that he’d be able to track her phone.

“We need to have a serious conversation.”

She knew there would be no conversation. He was angry at her, and when he was angry she was lucky to get even a word in. There would be no talking, just him yelling and hopefully it would only be yelling. From how tightly he was gripping the wheel, and how much he was speeding, she doubted there would merely be words flying tonight.

The truck’s cab was just as freezing as the outside. She considered turning the heat up, but knew better. She rung her mitten covered gloves together, finding very little warmth flowing through her body.

The snow was falling heavily now. The sky had turned into night.

Wendy stared into the rear view mirror. She could see the faintest of the Christmas market with its twinkling lights and happy faces. She watched as the bus rounded a corner and came to the stop. She could not see the kind man’s face as he gathered his items and clambered aboard.