Fiction: A snow day

A very short story offering hope for friendship, warmer weather . . . and hot coffee too.

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Tom took a sip of his coffee and looked out the shop window. The snow was starting to pile up on the sidewalk. A fast moving nor’easter rolled in the night before and local weatherman were expecting anywhere from 12 to 15 inches of snow. Two days before the temperature had spiked to an unseasonably warm 60 degrees. Now Old Man Winter was seeking retribution. He wanted to remind everyone that he wasn’t done yet dealing out his punishment. For the umpteenth time this winter, Tom wondered. Why wasn’t he sitting on some sunny beach? He could be nursing a frozen strawberry daiquiri. He was old enough to retire. He didn’t need to be fighting the same fights. He could start to enjoy all his years of work.

Instead, he was playing the role of Mr. Plowman.

“Hey Samantha, didn’t you shovel out there? I thought you put some salt down too?”

A 20-year-old woman with an apron looked up with a surprised face. “Yea, I was out there about an hour ago.”

Tom shook his head. His flower shop was coming up on its 30th anniversary. He was constantly surprised by everything that it took to keep the shop running, everything from staying up on inventory to payroll to simple things like keeping the walk cleared in front of the store for walk-in traffic and for his two part-time delivery drivers.

“If you need it done right, I guess you need to do it yourself,” Tom teased to Samantha. He walked to a closet, grabbed his coat and shovel and went outside. He braced himself. It had gotten colder since he had opened up in the morning. He bent over and started shoveling. It was a “wet, heavy” snow.

“Damn, it’s the worst kind of snow. I need to get a snowblower, this is for the birds.”

The wheels start to turn

The shoveling was taking more out of him than he expected. He would take a couple of scoops and then take a break to catch his breath. On one of his breaks he looked up and noticed the sidewalk to Jimmy’s Precious Gems Jewelry shop. The sidewalk was clean as a whistle. There wasn’t a bit of snow.

A huge scowl twisted across Tom’s face.

He had his suspicions about why Jimmy’s space was so clean, but went back to work. Forty-five minutes later, Tom finally finished the job. Tom spread some salt on the sidewalk and took one last look. It was clean as a whistle. As his dad used to say, “the sidewalk was clean enough to eat off it.”

With the snow cleaned off, last minute Valentine’s Day shoppers would be able to get to his store. He grabbed the double-sided A-frame sign, advertising the shop’s weekly special. He placed it in a prominent spot on the sidewalk. “C’mon on baby, it’s time to do your thing, get ’em coming into the shop.” With that, Tom went back inside. He needed to check to see if Samantha needed any help. In addition, he had to start working on the new orders that had come in overnight.

“A florist’s job is never done.”

An hour later, he walked to the front of the store and took a look outside. The snow was done, but there was a big pile of snow right where he had shoved. It looked like he hadn’t even shoveled. “What the hell happened there,” Tom asked. Samantha was busy helping a customer so Tom grabbed his coat again and went back outside. Right on time, he saw that Jimmy, his neighbor, had thrown a big pile of snow on Tom’s portion of the sidewalk.

“What do you think you’re doing? You asshole!” Tom shouted.

Jimmy wasn’t one to take being called a nasty name sitting down. He was a burly man with a crooked nose. “Who do you think you are?”

Taking it on the chin

Like Tom, Jimmy had been running his shop for three decades and was hands-on. He was in work by 7 a.m. and most days was there until 8 or 9 at night. He prided himself on his quality gems and wonderful customer service. He always joked with customers that they could spend more money on wedding rings and the like in the city, but they couldn’t get a better deal than what they would get at his small, local shop.

“Oh stop it Tom. Don’t get all high and mighty with me. I’m just returning the favor. You threw all of your snow on my side. I’m just giving back what you did to me.”

“Oh give me a break Jimmy. I did no such thing.”

The two men started to get in a heated row. They shouted about who wronged whom. They were bringing up ten-year-old slights and errors of good neighborly judgment. They were nose to nose and looked like they were going to come to blows. A young mother walking on the sidewalk with her pre-school aged daughter gave the two strange-looking men a wide berth. She made sure to position her daughter as far away from them as possible.

Right on cue, Jimmy’s wife Linda opened the door to his shop and growled at him for creating a scene. “Jimmy, don’t you go creating a ruckus.”

Tom smiled at Linda’s comment, while Jimmy grew redder, if possible, with rage. “Linda, don’t be yelling at me. He’s the one you should be yelling at. Tom’s been throwing snow on our sidewalk. That’s why no one’s coming in today.”

Linda wasn’t having it. “Oh hush Jimmy. No one’s coming in because they have more than two brain cells in their heads and knew to stay home on a day like today. Why we’re even open I have no idea? You’re as smart as a bucket of rocks.”

Jimmy started to protest again, but she put her finger up to hush him. She came out further onto the sidewalk. “Plus, I just wanted to thank you Tom for the beautiful arrangement that I got yesterday. It had Jimmy’s name on it, but I’m no fool. I know that was you. He talks for weeks about Valentine’s Day and about how every woman deserves something sparkly on her fingers. Does he remember his own wife? Goodness, no! Thank you Tommy for remembering. I appreciate it.”

Both men were stumped. Not sure whether to scowl or smile or hit each other in the face. She gave Tom one last hug, told him to tell his wife Rebecca that she would call her soon, and gave her final ultimatum: “Now you two go get yourself a coffee. And goodness sake, stop this childishness.”

Wishing for warmer weather

With Linda back inside the two men looked at each other. Finally Tom said, “Can I interest you in a coffee?”

“Damn right you can. I thought you would never ask. I have a splitting headache.”

The two leaned their shovels against their respective stores and shuffled as old me do half a block up the street to a small corner tavern. Tom opened the door and let Jimmy go in first. Georgeanne, the bar owner, greeted the two men as soon as they entered. Jimmy asked her to get them two Irish Coffees when she had a chance.

When Georgeanne brought the spiked coffees to their table, Tom put his cup up to Jimmy and said, “Here’s to wonderful wives, a sunny summer, and lots of walk-in traffic.”

Jimmy smiled and said, “And no more damn snow. I’m done with it.”

“You can say that again.”