Page 99 of Snowballed

“What’s going on exactly?” I ask.

“Noah organized it all. He’s paired people with farming experience like me, with noobs like Rocky.” Paul nudges her, and she laughs and flips her hair. Wait, are they interested in each other?

“Everyone is pitching in for a week. And if you need more help, we’ll arrange for that.”

“A week should be more than enough,” I say.

Paul points to the whiteboard. “Noah made the schedule.”

Now I can see the scale of this plan. Each evening, there are volunteers from both hockey teams, as well as others like Martin from Minnesota, and even Bobby Cooper. Bobby is teamed with Helen, something I would actually pay to watch. Noah has also printed out detailed instructions for all the chores, which I know came from his own notes.

Noah is such a wonderful guy. Although I put him on a pedestal while we were dating, I never fully appreciated all the good things about him: his generosity, his creativity, and his empathy. When I really needed him, he came through despite the way I’ve treated him.

What I said to my mother was the truth: I’ll never find anyone as wonderful as Noah. I regret every mean thing I said to him. Our breakup was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. And as I’ve been finding out, I’ve done a lot of dumb things.

However, instead of dwelling on my regret, I’m going to appreciate the friends right in front of me.

“This is so kind of you guys.” My heart is full at the idea of everyone volunteering.

Rocky hugs me again. “We’re your friends. Why would we not want to help?”

“We’re Derek’s friends too,” Paul points out.

“Oh thanks for bringing my car last night,” I tell Paul. Was it only last night that I found my mother here? It seems like so much has happened since then.

Rocky fake-kicks my butt. “We’ve got things under control here. So you go inside and relax.”

“Okay, but I’m going to make dinner. And there will be enough for you guys too.”

Paul grins. “I’ll never turn down food. And Noah’s told me what a good cook you are.”

I leave reluctantly. I’d rather stay with these two than be alone with my thoughts. But cooking will be fun, and then we can all talk. Besides, if Rocky is interested in Paul, I should give them some privacy.

Once inside, I pull out some pork sausages and eggs. I’ll make a hearty breakfast for dinner. I message Noah, thanking him for all his generosity. He messages me back, saying that Bert has agreed to do morning chores for a week. I protest that I can do those, but Noah insists.

Your mom isn’t the only one who deserves a break. Besides, you’ll be taking care of her.

Noah is such a great guy that I almost regret telling him the truth about me last night. But it’s better to face the facts. He’s always been out of my league.

After Rocky and Paul leave, I am all alone for the rest of the night—something that hasn’t happened in years. And there’s nothing to fill my evening. This is the contemplative time that Lorraine is always urging me to take and it’s torturous. I’ve made too many mistakes, and I can’t bear to think about them.

It’s a clear moonlit night. I dress warmly and dig out my old skates and a shovel from the shed. Pete is excited to see me out so late, so I take him along to the pond. There’s a skiff of snow which I shovel off in no time. Then I skate around the pond. Of course, I remember coming here with Noah, but that’s not the memory I’m trying to conjure tonight.

I close my eyes and recall skating with my father. Our games of pond hockey with Derek and Bobby. My dad encouraging me to play as hard as the boys. He used to come to all our games. Knowing how much work the farm is now, I’m even more impressed that he found the time. But my dad enjoyed the farm work. It was never a chore for him.

My skates move faster, like I’m trying to outrace what happens next. How unfair it was that someone so young, only in his forties, could have such a debilitating stroke. The first awful days not knowing if he would live or die. Seeing him survive, only to be a shadow of himself. And watching more of him slip away each day. I felt so helpless. My only hope was that the magic of being home might bring him back, but that was futile. His body was failing even faster than his mind. He refused to do physio because it hurt—he had no concept of future results.

At the end, I was talking to a man who didn’t even know who I was. A stranger in my dad’s body.

Of course I’ve been upset—it’s not the way life is supposed to go. My dad is supposed to come to my hockey games, walk me down the aisle, and teach his first grandchild to skate. And he’ll never do any of these things. The pain of missing him makes me ache everywhere.

I catch an edge and tumble onto the ice. The pain of landing is enough to push my anger over the top.

“Why?” I yell up at the sky.

Why did you leave me, Dad? You know how much I needed you. How much I loved you. Why was that not enough?

There’s no answer, of course. Only the whistling breeze in the trees and soft thumps as Pete bounces through the snow chasing imaginary prey. There’s no sound because I’m so utterly alone.

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