The Minutes We Have

chapter six

Little towns can amaze you. 

Whether it be well-kept secrets that are discovered or the things that you pick up along the way. Every little town has a story, every house was once a home, and every little thing impacts a person without their realization. Sometimes, even the storyteller will let you know that everything is like a coin. There are always two sides. 

A few days ago, I was amazed to discover that one of the stores downtown was selling ice skates. My mom had always had a pair when we were growing up. I remember seeing them in the garage a few times, either in a box or hanging by their laces from a hook. They were worn and well-loved and Mom still kept them even though she hadn't skated as much since kids. 

I always heard the stories of my mom ice-skating with her mom. I never really met my grandmother before she passed away. Still, I felt like I knew her through my mom. It was bittersweet how memories can be the only thing we have of someone, and now whenever I saw ice skates, I remembered my mom. 

That being said, I bought a pair of ice skates for myself, and I picked up another pair for one of the boys. They were all relatively the same shoe size, so I figured it was a win. I wasn't a professional at ice skating but I had gone to the ice rink in the city a few times, and I knew the basics at least. 

It was cold enough that the pond behind our house had been frozen for over a month now. With Mikeal's careful observation, I had gone down to the pond and checked the ice conditions. I had learned that bluish gray ice was the most ideal. 

After I deemed it safe to skate, I tried out my new ice skates for a little bit one evening. For some reason, as I glided over the smooth surface of the ice, I felt a little closer to Mom. It was then I decided that I had to get someone else to try it with me. 

No amount of convincing would get Mikeal on the ice. He refused every time I asked him, and then told me to ask the twins.

It turns out that Julian was terrified of ice and Roman wasn't overly fond of it. I still remembered when they had both gone ice skating with me once around New Year's Eve a few years ago--when Mom had made them go with me--and they hadn't liked it then either. 

My last option was to ask Ezra. 

He had just gotten home last night and although we had watched a movie as a family, we hadn't gone to bed late. Hence the reason why I tiptoed into his room at a quarter past eight in the morning. 

"Ezra," I said quietly, drawing closer to his bed, "Hey, wake up." 

He shifted beneath the blankets and then his head lifted slightly. "Are you fucking serious?" He grumbled, dropping his face into his pillow, but not before saying, "Get out, Jordyn." 

I twisted my hands but didn't move. "I know it's early," I continued tentatively, "But will you go ice skating with me?" 

There was a generous amount of silence. He lifted his head again, actually looking at me this time, "We don't have ice skates." 

"I bought some," I replied. I felt a little hopeful because he hadn't said no. I wanted to convince him so bad. We hadn't done anything together the last few weekends he had been home, and I wanted something that we both enjoyed. "Just a few days ago, and the ice is perfect on the pond. Please?" 

He groaned, "No." 

"Ezra, c'mon," I whined, "Everyone else already said no. You're the last person I can ask." 

Following my words, he exhaled. He rolled onto his back and rubbed his eyes. For a second, I thought he would get mad. "Alright, fine. Now please get out?" His emphasis on that word made it sound like mockery, but I didn't care.