Snowy Parking Lot

He left his wife in the crowded doorway and stepped into the snowy night.  On the slushy, slippery path, a long-time friend from work walked a step or two behind him.  He pointed his elbow back toward her and offered that she take it. 

“No,” she said, more out of habit than pride. 

He slowed his pace and allowed his elbow to linger there, where she could easily take it when she changed her mind.

"Maybe I will,” she said, and grabbed, more onto his coat than his arm. 

At that very moment her footing slipped, and he felt a firm tug at his coat.  AI guess, at times, I do need a man to lean on," she joked as she quickly regained her balance.

An awkward silence lingered a moment in the wind and snow and cold. 

“Where are you parked,” he asked, slowing his pace again. 

“I’m parked way out there,” she said, gesturing with her free hand toward the back of the parking lot.

“Good,” he answered, “I’m parked way out there too.”

They walked and chatted with each other like the old friends they’ve always been. 

“It was a nice party, don't you think?”

“Yes,” he responded.  “But I was thinking just today that no one throws a company party quite as well as you do.”  He meant it too.  It had been three years since she was responsible for this annual party, but he thought often, especially at this time of year, about when the company was smaller, and things were somehow easier.  Of course things weren’t easier back then.  But, he sometimes imagined they were.  The recent parties were always nice, but not like in years past.

She thanked him and quickly moved the conversation away from the subject.  “I apologize for the way my staff acted tonight.  They’ve obviously had too much to drink.”

“You aren’t their mother,” he said.  “I think they’re funny to watch.”   

“Since they’re too drunk to drive home, they’re all going to crash here tonight at the hotel.”  She paused a second and then continued, "Three of them have to be at work in the morning."

“That should be fun for them,” he said, thinking of a long, snow-packed drive in the early morning, followed by a long day at work with a well-deserved hangover. 

“Yes,” she agreed.  "And, it doesn’t look like things will be letting up anytime soon."
He smiled, not sure if she had meant the snow, or the party, or both.

She slipped a few more times before they reached the row of cars she was parked on.  She didn’t say anything more about it and he did the same.  Maybe she wouldn’t have fallen, but, maybe she would have.  Either way, he was glad he had offered to help. 

“Here we are at my car,” she said, again gesturing.  “Thanks for your help.”

They were still not close enough to the car that he thought he could just let her go.  He wondered if the comment was her way of letting him off easy. 

But, he also sensed that in the comment there seemed to be a hint of test:  Would he let her go now, or would he follow through to the end?  It was as if she was trying to find out if he really wanted to help, or if he was only performing some act of chivalrous service just long enough to say he had. 

Just as easily, it could be her finely tuned sense of self reliance, coming again to the surface, and forcing her to shake off any sign of weakness or dependence. 

He decided the correct response to all three was to continue on, and turned decidedly toward her car, her hand still gripping tightly to his coat. 

When they reached her car, she loosened her grip and slipped away.  He thought about offering to clear the heavy covering of snow from the windows, but quickly decided he had already done more than she was comfortable with. 

“Well, have a good weekend,” he said, moving back the way they had come. 

"You too,” she said, already brushing snow from the car.  “Thanks for walking me.  I appreciate your help.” 

“No problem,” he said.  “See you soon.”  And turning away, he walked slowly back to his own car.

Clark