She silently shrugged her shoulders, though I could tell by the stubborn set of her mouth that her expectations had been snuffed like the oil lamps lining the cabin walls. We got out, our shoes crunching and uncertain in the snow. Her coat and sweatpants covered her like a shroud, and her short pixie cut made her look almost boyish. The snow hit our warm faces and hands like pinpricks. The inside of the cabin wasn't much warmer than the outside and our vital puffs of breath were visible.
The wood stove, the mounted buck's head on the wall, the crooked little windows, the loft where the magic had happened. I was enthralled, lost in the past. Minnie was not quite as enchanted by the place as I was. She was trying to be polite, but I could tell. "Don't worry it gets pretty warm in here, at least by the stove. There should be plenty of firewood. There are pretty heavy blankets on the beds." I felt like I was making excuses for the place and something inside me was desperate for her to like it, for her to understand the magic of this place. The cabin was like going back in time, especially in a personal sense.
—
It was here we had all come. Twenty or so years ago. It had been a bit of a post-college celebration for Ian, and a celebration of chemical bliss for me. There had been five of us I think. Ian, a couple of his friends, who try as I might, I couldn't summon their faces in my mind, myself and Nat. I remembered her reaction too, not that different from Minnie's. Her long brown hair nearly covered her face, save for her sharp aquiline nose. "What a dump! Ian, this is where you brought us?" Ian had sputtered a response, but I knew. She was mad at me. Like I had known. She had been like that. Pretending to be independent and strong, but leaning on me when I was there. Strong but brittle.
We met after I dropped out. That wasn't strictly true. I had seen her in high school. Long straight hair, narrow shoulders, big heavy butt. I would watch its entrancing shake as she walked away. I had felt an attraction, but our paths never seemed to cross. I would run into her in the hallway and say hi, but I didn't even know if she knew who I was.
My failed accounting class was the last straw for mom and dad and I came back home. That afternoon I wandered the tacky little strip mall in town, half-stoned to escape the tears and the bitter sentiment behind them. I wasn't going anywhere, I was just escaping.
And there she was, in the coffee shop. A freaking barista with a tired, plastic smile. I felt so awkward and empty as I waited in line. I had decided to mention old times and then decided not to several times. Would it bring back the tears? No use mortifying myself in front of her.
But it was she who had remembered. Nothing could have surprised me more than her playful voice saying, "Dom, right? Norman Rockwell high?" Her face looked so serious, but her voice always seemed just on the edge of mirth. Her smile this time was shining and real. That face and that voice would dominate my heart for a decade after.
I found myself in her studio apartment that night under the pretense of getting high. A pauper's home. Cheap metal cot, tiny TV, crap insulation. And then the familiar flick of flame, soft bubbling, and pleasant tingling in the lungs. She had put a plastic bag over the smoke alarm. Strange how you remember those kinds of details. She had gone straight to work out of high school, since she had made only mediocre grades and her mom could barely keep the electricity on. I would learn later that she was sharp as hell, and quick with a quip or even a subtle barb.
Then in the heavy haze and aroma, we felt our hot, desperate lips pressing together. I felt her soft body and the subtle smell of her mouth and skin. The fine, almost invisible hair on her cheek. We had kissed and kissed, and at that moment we were the only ones in the world and we were truly alive. Two broken souls who by fate had run into each other. My kisses lowered. First to her neck, then her full breasts, then her pink erect nipples, then on her belly, sensual and soft as she looked down at the top of my head. Tiny brown hairs formed a trail from her navel to her most secret of places. And I felt warmth even through her jeans as I pressed my cheek into that place. Then I felt her hand on the back of my hand.
"No. Not yet." I was high. Both from the weed and from her body. I looked up and she shook her head. There was something melancholy and pleading there. So I retraced my steps, stopping at her nipples with their large pink areolas. She moaned, as my lips and tongue worked, grinding her tender body into me. I writhed against her, my cock so hard and so desperate to be out. I felt as if I would explode. My youthful zeal, my grief and relief, and kismet formed a simmering stew inside me and I did explode. I groaned and it felt as if my heart were in my cock. And then I was gasping like a beached fish with my head between her soft breasts. And all she did was smile, understanding.
That night I had slept like that, her tits as my pillows, feeling safer than I had since... well since ever. The next morning I woke her up with kisses, licks, and gentle nibbles. She looked down at me, biting her lip, her face flushed with pleasure. And we tumbled back into the world of heat and moisture and breath. Our bodies pressing together, both lustful and chaste. I had never been this close to a woman before. My departure was full of more kisses, groping, and the exuberance of new love. I walked home, incandescent and throbbing.
Mom met me at the door, her eyes filled with vindictive tears. I mumbled non-answers to her questions and locked my bedroom door. I expected to hear my father's oafish, blunt rage, but it didn't come. He must have been out drunk, or golfing, or golfing drunk. It would come later, but even that couldn't ruin my mood. I had found my doe in the woods.
—
Minnie helped me bring in firewood, and I desperately tried to make conversation. My words were all nervous laughs and pauses. Then I saw the briefest flash of something in her face. For a second her defenses had come down and I saw something. Was it embarrassment, fear? And it dawned on me that she felt just as awkward as I did. She was so quiet because she was also afraid of fumbling her words. We made eye contact and for just a second I felt a kindred spirit. But as suddenly as the moment came it was gone.
As I lit the fire she disappeared into the loft. There was a spark, then a blaze and the exquisite near-pain of warming my white, cold hands. I wanted to show Minnie around the cabin, such as it was, but there was something about the quiet of the cabin. There were no cars, no TV, no phone, and not even the soft whoosh of ventilation. There was something holy about a silence this complete.
The room warmed, and soon Minnie was down sitting on the sofa as far from me as she could. Nothing could keep her cold desperate body away from the heat. She grinned weakly at me, "The heat is nice. So dad said you had been here before with him, like a long time ago."
Her voice had been just above a whisper, but it animated me as if she had spoken an incantation. "It was. Exactly how old do you think I am?" her cold cheeks and lips lit up red. "I'm kidding, yes it was something like twenty five years ago. Your dad and his friends and my ex-wife. We stayed here a couple of nights."
She looked around the room. "What did you do here?"
What could I have said? We drank and got high and fucked. What else was there to do here? "We kept ourselves busy. Umm.. There's a nice lake through the woods. Want to come see it? The cabin will be nice and warm when we get back." She agreed, rather enthusiastically.
—
The woods were bright, white, and treacherous. Neither of us were much used to snow, and after she fell the second time, I suggested we hold hands. And when our hands touched, there was a spark, and a little jump in my gut. She looked like a little bird puffed up in her heavy coat. Her hand was soft and delicate and quite cold.
Our feet crunched in the snow, and soon there were evergreens all around. She looked around, wonder in her eyes. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" I gave her hand a soft squeeze. She nodded, her eyes joyful. Had she felt it? "Aren't you studying biology?"
