Shapes of Hearts
Mary stepped out of the candy store into bright sunshine. Main Street was a slushy mess after five straight days of snow, but the sky had cleared to a crystalline blue. One of the surprises of a Maine winter was the number of beautiful sunny days there were. She had expected months of dreary gray weather. Even Alvin remarked at how snowy it had been, but between each period of snow there has been spectacular days when the light was so intense that objects seemed to come into sharper focus.
She slogged her way up the street to her car and got inside. She looked inside her shopping bag. She had bought two dozen foil wrapped chocolate hearts, enough to give a small Valentine gift to everyone in her department. More than she needed actually, so she unwrapped and ate one.
She pulled out of her parking space carefully. At the corner, the snow was piled higher than the roof of her car, and she moved forward with caution. She was getting used to winter driving, and managed to steer into the plowed center of the street with only a minimum of wheel spinning and crawled up the hill, slow and steady. She had always wondered why cars still had low gear, now she knew.
She turned into the parking lot at the bank. It was well plowed, but the mounds of snow filled some parking spaces and she had to park farther from the building than usual. As she walked to the main door, she noticed a car with California plates parked in the second row. She smiled to think that some other exile might also be experiencing their first Maine winter. As she passed the car, she saw a figure slumped down in the driver's seat, huddled under a plaid lap blanket. She stopped and thought about knocking on the window to make sure that the person inside was alright. But she still had the instincts of a big city girl. You can't be too careful, she thought. She went into the building and crossed the lobby to the security desk.
"Hi, Roy," she said to the guard on duty, "There's a blue car in the second row with California plates. It looks like someone is sleeping in it."
"They didn't give you any trouble, did they, Miss Winslow?" Roy asked in his thick Down East accent.
"No, I'm just concerned, with it being so cold out." "Oh, it's up to about thirty five, ma'am, but I'll take a gander. Move them off if they don't belong."
Mary thanked him and went in to her department. She stashed the candy in the bottom desk drawer. It was two days until St. Valentine's Day. She'd stop on her way home and pick up a box of Valentines to go with the candy hearts. Something friendly, not too flowery. She enjoyed making such small gestures to her co-workers.
Small gestures, though, were not Alvin's style and she had been giving a lot of thought to what to do to make Valentine's Day special for him. She had no doubt that he was planning something grandiose for her. She couldn't match his imagination for big romantic gestures, but there were always ways to express affection in a quieter but no less heartfelt manner. Two weeks earlier, for his birthday, she had invited him to her apartment for supper, and greeted him at the door wearing nothing but a large bow tied around her waist. All day, as she worked, she found herself doodling heart shapes on a note pad and trying to think of ideas.
At the end of her day she called Alvin while walking to her car, but got no answer. She stopped at Rite Aid and bought Valentine cards and a few other items, then drove home. She pulled into the small parking area behind her building, only to see that drifting snow had filled it a foot deep. She backed out on to the street, and pulled into a space half a block down from her door. As she shut off the engine, her phone rang. She looked at the screen and saw that it was Alvin.
"Hey, sweetie, where are you?" she asked.
"Just got off the turnpike at Augusta," he replied.
"So you'll be home in an hour or so?"
"Maybe a bit more. There's a few squalls out this way, and traffic is a mite slow."
"How's Charlotte?"
"She's fine. Just a bit shook. Fender was stove in, but wasn't much damage otherwise."
"Good. You think you want me to come over? Or are you too tired?"
"I expect I'll eat something and most likely fall asleep."
"Alright, love, I'll let you rest. I'll see you tomorrow."
"I love you, Miss Mary."
"Love you, baby."
She got out of the car, gathered her things and began to step gingerly through the slush. She heard a car door shut behind her, but thought nothing of it. When she reached her door, she already had her keys in her hand and was about to put them in the lock when she sensed someone near her. She turned and saw a figure in a hooded sweatshirt moving toward her. She stepped back and nearly fell on the slippery pavement, clutching the doorjamb to steady herself.
"Mary! Be careful!" a familiar voice cried. The figure stepped into the dim light emanating from the hardware window.
Mary stared in disbelief. "Wyatt?"
Wyatt raised his arms as if to offer an embrace, then dropped them and slid his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.
"You look good, Mary, how you been?" His voice was low, hesitant.
Mary struggled to think of something to say. She was shocked to see her ex-husband standing in front of her building, a continent away from where she'd seen him last, at the Los Angeles County courthouse on the day they had signed their divorce papers.
"Wyatt, what the...what are you doing here?"
He was shivering as he answered her. "I just wanted to see you again, just to, I don't know, just wanted to talk."
Mary put her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. She tried to think about how to handle the situation, but her thoughts and feelings were so jumbled that she couldn't focus. She looked at Wyatt. He seemed a pitiful figure, cold, shivering, his shoulders drooping.
"Oh Christ, Wyatt, come inside and get warm." She opened the door and gestured for him to follow her up the stairs.
"Hey, this is kind of nice," Wyatt said as he stepped into Mary's apartment.
Mary went to the kitchen and turned on the coffee maker. She leaned against the sink while Wyatt pulled out a chair and sat at the table. "Man, I can't believe this snow," he said, "I had to stop in Massachusetts and wait two days for it to quit."
"You drove all the way here?"
"Yeah. It took....uh, what day is this?"
"Thursday."
"Eight days. I thought I could make it in five, but I didn't think about snow."
"When I moved I did it in seven, but I wasn't hurrying," Mary said, then realized how absurd it was that the two of them were making small talk. She poured Wyatt a cup of coffee and put it down in front of him.
"Uh, Mary, are you going to take your coat off?"
She had not realized that she still had it on. She took it off, draped it over the back of the other kitchen chair and sat down across the table from him. For a long moment they just looked at each other.
Wyatt took a long slurp of coffee. "Mary, I just wanted to make sure that you were okay, I mean, that you were doing the right thing."
Mary scowled. "You mean getting married?"
"Well, yeah," he shrugged, "I'm sorry, but I still care about you."
"You could have called me instead of driving all the way across the country."
"I don't have your new number."
"Send an email."
"Aw, Mary, I don't want you to get mad."
Mary sat back and crossed her arms. "How did you expect me to react? You scared the shit out of me for one thing."
"Yeah, sorry about that. Is it darker here?"
"You hung out in the parking lot and watched for me to come out of work, didn't you? I saw your car."
"Yeah, but they made me leave, so I had to park out on the road."
"They call that stalking, Wyatt."
"This is not what I wanted," Wyatt moaned, putting his head in his hands.
"What did you want? You thought that I'd rush into your arms when I saw you?"
"No, but..."
