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Authors: Elyse Douglas
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awoke, she glanced at her watch. It was almost 10 a.m. She sat up, rubbed her face and swept the room with her eyes. Stabbing memories began creeping back into her consciousness. She shot to her feet, looking about, as if searching for some kind of escape hatch, a way out, an escape route away from her thoughts, memories and responsibilities. She suddenly remembered something Mrs. Wintergreen had said to her at Harvey’s Pond the night before.
“You’re going to be tested,” she had said.
What did she mean by that? Had she known that her shop would be destroyed? Without thinking, Jennifer heard herself call out. “Mrs. Wintergreen!”
It surprised her. The name echoed in the apartment. Then she recalled what Mrs. Wintergreen had said about Mrs. Stanton not accepting her help. Jennifer reached for her phone and called the hospital. She was connected to Mrs. Stanton’s room. Mrs. Stanton’s niece spoke kindly to her.
“Mrs. Stanton has had x-rays and we’re waiting for the results. She’s still agitated, but she’s been given a sedative. I’m sure she’ll be all right.”
Jennifer thanked her, offering apologies once again, then hung up. She turned in the direction of Harvey’s Pond. She grabbed her coat and left the apartment, forgetting for a moment that she didn’t have a car. She started off on foot toward the pond, pulling through the deep snow with urgency, feeling the sting of the wind across her face, feeling foolish, yet determined to find Mrs. Wintergreen.
About 20 minutes later, she arrived at the gazebo where she and Mrs. Wintergreen had talked. Someone had cleared the snow off the ice, and there were six people skating. One elderly couple, hand-in-hand, drifted easily across the pond, seemingly lost in the pure joy of each other, swaying gently in a perfect rhythm. It was as if nature were holding them up to her as an example of what she’d never have. She watched them for a time, jealously, darkly. The Christmas music from the speakers was Judy Garland singing Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas .
Jennifer pushed her hands into her coat pockets, turned her gaze away from the couple and shaded her eyes from the now brilliant sun that was glaring off the ice. She didn’t want to admit to herself that she was looking for Mrs. Wintergreen, and she felt pangs of anger for even being there. But she was desperate and had nowhere else to go. She had no one to talk to. She couldn’t stay in her apartment and she certainly couldn’t go back to town.
Like someone who was about to take a plunge into icy water, she took a few deep breaths to fortify her courage, then started circling the pond. Half an hour later, she was hungry, her face was hard with cold, and she was bitterly discouraged. She turned slowly, searching all four directions, and then stared up into the blue dome of the sky. She stood on a hill overlooking the pond, hearing the soft rasp of an airplane passing over, glinting in the sunlight.
Then quietly, desperately, she whispered. “I’ll go…”
At that moment, she spotted Mrs. Wintergreen below, skating beside the elderly couple. All three were laughing, gliding and performing a little dance. Jennifer jolted forward. She swiftly descended the hill, side-stepping, sliding, falling, bracing herself with her hands and hurrying over to the edge of the pond. She frantically waved, trying to get Mrs. Wintergreen’s attention.
“Mrs. Wintergreen! Mrs. Wintergreen!!”
Mrs. Wintergreen did a skillful pirouette, whirling in circles like a top, finally coming to an abrupt stop. The couple applauded.
“Very good, Frances,” the woman said.
“Nicely done,” the man added.
“You gave me the lessons,” she said, applauding them. “It only took me 30 years!”
Mrs. Wintergreen turned to Jennifer and waved. “Hi Jennifer. What a beautiful day!”
Jennifer waved again, shyly, nodding. “Yes…yes…”
Mrs. Wintergreen said her good-byes to the couple, turned and skated
“You’re going to be tested,” she had said.
What did she mean by that? Had she known that her shop would be destroyed? Without thinking, Jennifer heard herself call out. “Mrs. Wintergreen!”
It surprised her. The name echoed in the apartment. Then she recalled what Mrs. Wintergreen had said about Mrs. Stanton not accepting her help. Jennifer reached for her phone and called the hospital. She was connected to Mrs. Stanton’s room. Mrs. Stanton’s niece spoke kindly to her.
“Mrs. Stanton has had x-rays and we’re waiting for the results. She’s still agitated, but she’s been given a sedative. I’m sure she’ll be all right.”
Jennifer thanked her, offering apologies once again, then hung up. She turned in the direction of Harvey’s Pond. She grabbed her coat and left the apartment, forgetting for a moment that she didn’t have a car. She started off on foot toward the pond, pulling through the deep snow with urgency, feeling the sting of the wind across her face, feeling foolish, yet determined to find Mrs. Wintergreen.
About 20 minutes later, she arrived at the gazebo where she and Mrs. Wintergreen had talked. Someone had cleared the snow off the ice, and there were six people skating. One elderly couple, hand-in-hand, drifted easily across the pond, seemingly lost in the pure joy of each other, swaying gently in a perfect rhythm. It was as if nature were holding them up to her as an example of what she’d never have. She watched them for a time, jealously, darkly. The Christmas music from the speakers was Judy Garland singing Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas .
Jennifer pushed her hands into her coat pockets, turned her gaze away from the couple and shaded her eyes from the now brilliant sun that was glaring off the ice. She didn’t want to admit to herself that she was looking for Mrs. Wintergreen, and she felt pangs of anger for even being there. But she was desperate and had nowhere else to go. She had no one to talk to. She couldn’t stay in her apartment and she certainly couldn’t go back to town.
Like someone who was about to take a plunge into icy water, she took a few deep breaths to fortify her courage, then started circling the pond. Half an hour later, she was hungry, her face was hard with cold, and she was bitterly discouraged. She turned slowly, searching all four directions, and then stared up into the blue dome of the sky. She stood on a hill overlooking the pond, hearing the soft rasp of an airplane passing over, glinting in the sunlight.
Then quietly, desperately, she whispered. “I’ll go…”
At that moment, she spotted Mrs. Wintergreen below, skating beside the elderly couple. All three were laughing, gliding and performing a little dance. Jennifer jolted forward. She swiftly descended the hill, side-stepping, sliding, falling, bracing herself with her hands and hurrying over to the edge of the pond. She frantically waved, trying to get Mrs. Wintergreen’s attention.
“Mrs. Wintergreen! Mrs. Wintergreen!!”
Mrs. Wintergreen did a skillful pirouette, whirling in circles like a top, finally coming to an abrupt stop. The couple applauded.
“Very good, Frances,” the woman said.
“Nicely done,” the man added.
“You gave me the lessons,” she said, applauding them. “It only took me 30 years!”
Mrs. Wintergreen turned to Jennifer and waved. “Hi Jennifer. What a beautiful day!”
Jennifer waved again, shyly, nodding. “Yes…yes…”
Mrs. Wintergreen said her good-byes to the couple, turned and skated
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