Vallon, my best friend, and I sat on the couch, mesmerized by the blanket of whiteness covering the woods behind us.  Through the snow-covered branches, I could see Royal Lake, frozen over.  The 4.1-mile path surrounding it was invisible, obscured by the eight to ten inches of heavy snow that had fallen Sunday night and into Monday morning.  The scene was pristine, idyllic.  Picture-perfect.

Knocking on the front door awakened me from my trance.  Vallon’s barking only added to the din.

“Hi, Meagan.  Isn’t the snow wonderful?  Would you and Vallon like to walk around Royal Lake with Chase and me?”

It was Paul and his dog.  It was through our dogs we had met.  We often walked around the lake together becoming good friends in the process.

“I’d like to Paul, but I need to…..”

Looking beyond Paul, I noticed the sidewalks leading to my stoop and in front of my house had both been shoveled out.  The concrete was completely barren, free of ice and snow.

“You need to do what?” Paul asked with a grin on his face.

“Well I was going to say I had to clear the sidewalks, but I noticed you’ve already seen to that.”

“Least I can do for a friend.”

Paul was just that, a friend.  I’ve always been leery and discerning about getting into relationships.  In my 26 years, I had only one boyfriend in high school, two in college, and one since.  Each time, the relationship ended with one or the other of us relocating.  Long-distance relationships were never sustainable, nor, in reality, fulfilling.  At least I didn’t believe they were.

“Thank you, Paul.  I would like that.  I did notice, however, that the path around the lake seems to be buried.  I’m sure it will take longer than usual.”

“I’m sure it will, but my firm is closed today.  I suspect your company is too.  So we both have time on our hands.”

“Yes, it is - unscheduled leave.  Come in while I change.”

After a few minutes, I reappeared in my ski pants and sweater.

“Now, I’m ready for the cold” I smiled as I got my boots and coat from the closet.

Vallon and Chase were both straining at their leashes.

“He was eager.  I hope you don’t mind.”

“Yes, Vallon can be impetuous at times.  Thanks again.”

Feeling my pocket to make sure I had my house keys, I opened the front door.

A blast of frigid air hit us in the face.

While Paul had cleared our sidewalks, few others had yet been uncovered.  We sank deep as we trudged through the snow and down the stairs leading to the path.

“Left or right?” Paul asked.

“Left.”

The only noises heard were the swishes of our footsteps and the dangle of the dog’s collar tags as they jiggled.  Our breaths, and those of the dogs, were visible in the cold air.

I was awed by the scenery.  I thought the snow-covered pines would make a good Christmas card next year.  I stopped and snapped a picture of the path we were following.

“I’m sure this is something different for you, Meg.  I mean I don’t think you get much snow in Alabama.”

“It snows, but not often.  Then too, they don’t get this much that often here either.  I heard the news this morning say it’s been something like 20 years.”

I stopped suddenly.

“Look, Paul,” I said smiling, pointing to a pair of red foxes prowling along the shoreline.

“Probably looking for breakfast.”

After about 15 minutes, we unleashed our dogs, letting them run free and frolic in the snow unfettered.  Sometimes you could barely see them.  Chase, a white husky, easily blended in with the environment. He was certainly at home in the cold and snow.

Rounding the southern shore, I felt Paul slid his hand into mine.  I was surprised by his boldness but I liked it.  At times I could be submissive.  This was one of those times.

We glanced at each other for just a moment.  Silently. 

Even through the thick material of our gloves, I could feel the warmth of his hand.  It felt good.

We continued our walk along the western edge of Royal Lake, hand-in-hand.

Quietly I thought how much I was enjoying this.  I said earlier Paul was just a friend.  He was.  At least I had never seen him as anything other than that.  Yes, a few times we walked the dogs together up to Huntsman Square to Starbucks for breakfast or Subway for lunch.  But we had never truly dated.  We both worked long hours and I had never thought of him like that.

This time was different.  There was a certain amount of romance now.  Something that just seemed right and I knew I wanted it to continue. 

The feeling inside of me was growing.  I hadn’t felt this way in a long time.  I wanted to let him know what I was feeling. 

But I couldn’t.  I didn’t. 

The feeling was cementing itself, getting stronger. I wondered what Paul was feeling.  I wanted to ask him. Needed to ask him. Desperately.

The silence was too loud.  The deafness was overwhelming.

Just before the north end of the lake, there was a cove where a picnic table was set up along with a grill and a fire pit.

We stopped. I was puzzled.

Paul noticed my confusion.  “Don’t worry, I think you’ll enjoy this.”

Taking off his backpack, Paul cleared the snow off the tabletop and bench and motioned me to sit.

Gathering old pieces of tree limbs and branches, some quite thick, and hefty, he started a fire in the pit.  Once it had taken hold, he removed his gloves and began warming his hands in the heat of the blazing flames.

Then he opened his pack and took out a bag of marshmallows and a huge thermos full of hot cocoa.  He slid two marshmallows on a stick and handed it to me.  A cup of steaming cocoa followed, accentuated by two more marshmallows floating on top.

Chase and Vallon eagerly devoured some of the marshmallows Paul had tossed to them before impaling two more for himself on another stick and sitting alongside me.

“Meg,” he began, “There has been something I say to you, something I want to ask you.”

With a hint of nervousness, I replied, “Yes, what is it?”

There was nothing but silence.  It seemed like an eternity.  It was as if time had stopped and we were frozen in the moment.

The silence was too loud.  The deafness was overwhelming.  I couldn’t stand it.

“Yes, what is it?” I asked again.

Grasping my bare hand and holding it tight in his, he looked me in the eye.  It was as if he were searching my soul, piercing my innermost being.

“Meagan,” I’ve known of you for several years and you’ve been a wonderful neighbor friend.  But I don’t just want to know about you, although I like what I have seen and know.  You’re intelligent, warm, kind, athletic, and, if you don’t mind me saying, an attractive woman who isn’t afraid to be feminine.  You’re not like most women I’ve known or met.”

“What I’m trying to say is this.  I’d like to see more of you.   To start taking you out on real dates and discover more about you.  What drives the woman named Meagan, and your deepest desires and wants in life.”

Now it was my turn to be taken aback.  I was the person perpetuating the quietness.  Now I knew his feelings for me.

Paul was now the one who found the silence too loud, the deafness too overwhelming.  Finally, he couldn’t stand it and broke the stillness, asking “Meg?”

“Yes, Paul.  I would like that.  I also would like the opportunity to know you better too.”

With that, as Chase and Vallon looked on, our lips moved closer and closer until, finally, meeting,   sending something akin to an electrical current surging through our bodies.  Our first kiss.