Ivan

Seen on the Purple Line to Linden at about 8:45 a.m.

Ivan’s beard had grown back full and frizzy and thick, and he was glad of it. Last winter the weather was so mild that he kept it trimmed close to his face, much to the happy surprise of his mother. Normally, however, he kept it bushy during the colder months, much to the delight of his girlfriend Leila.

They met during the big blizzard of 2011. Snowmageddon, Snowpocalypse, whatever other foreboding portmanteau you wanted to call it. Nobody had to go to work, so Ivan’s friend Greg invited a bunch of people over to get snowed in together. Ivan walked in the door, ice nestled into every curl of his beard. Leila walked right up to him.

“You must be Jack Frost.”

He set the handle of whiskey he’d brought on the ground. “Sorry to disappoint you. I’m Ivan.”

“Leila. I’m Greg’s cousin.”

“Oh, cool.”  

She reached out and stroked his face. The snowflakes melted on her fingertips. “I like your beard. It’s frutescent.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means ‘shrub-like in appearance.’ They actually took it out of the dictionary a few years ago, which is a shame. It’s a great word. Honestly, I’m really excited that I got to use it properly in a sentence.”

“Glad I could help. So is that a compliment then?”

“Yeah, I’d say it is.”

“Good. I’m a sucker for flattery. Want a drink?”

They had spiked apple cider. Ivan watched Leila’s cheeks and lips grow pink. She kissed some of the remaining snow from his sideburns. He gave her his scarf. She never gave it back.

A winter love story for this snowy day. Seriously, it looks like I'm in a snow globe. It's awesome.