Izzy served a hot mug of coffee to an elderly regular at the diner. He smiled up at her, his fading gray eyes twinkling as he worked to grasp the handle with his curved, arthritic fingers.

"Thank you my dear," he said. "Nothing like a good cup of joe when the snow starts heaping up outside."

She glanced out of the window. It was getting dark. The streetlights barely illuminated the streets, hallowed by the heavy snowfall. "Are you going to be alright getting home, Mr. Johnson?"

The old man put up a hand, waving her off. "Oh sure, sure. Don't you worry yourself about me, dear, I'll be fine."

She carried the coffee pot back to the counter. The rest of the diner was empty. Another bitter cold night—no one dared venture out except Mr. Johnson, who hadn't missed a day since the diner opened years ago.

The phone rang back in the kitchen and Mrs. Hawthorne answered, bringing Izzy's thoughts back to the night before. She'd felt a bit foolish, waiting within reach of the phone all of that morning and into the afternoon. It never rang once. Either Lou hadn't gotten her number from Janet, or he'd changed his mind about calling her.

Either way, it was for the best. At least, that was what she keep telling herself.

"After Mr. Johnson leaves, we're closing the diner," Mrs. Hawthorne hollered through the kitchen serving window. "Big storm's coming tonight, it's best we're all at home when it hits."

Izzy glanced at the clock, there was nearly an hour and a half left before her father came to pick her up. Her family would be attending Saturday vigil at the church, so she wouldn't be able to reach him at home.

Getting out of church obligations was another reason why Izzy worked at the diner. Judging by the looks she received when she attended on Sundays, rumors regarding her extended absence had spread in the congregation.

Of course, not a word was ever mentioned to her or her family. As her mother always said, gossiping was a sin. Ironically, gossip seemed to be the foundation of Mary-Helen Twiss' ladies tea group. The real understanding was that gossip should never be spread outside of the church, or directly to the person themselves.

Donny's parents, who attended the same church, kept as much distance from her family as possible. They mumbled polite greetings in passing, for the sake of everyone else looking on. Lucky for Izzy, Donny was never there.

Mr. Johnson cleared his throat, breaking her thoughts. He wiped his mouth with a napkin. "See you tomorrow," he called.

The wooden chair squeaked backwards against the floor as he stood. Izzy rushed over, grabbing his arm as he steadied himself. "Are you sure you can make it home alright?" she asked. "I can walk with you. I don't have a ride home for awhile anyhow."

Mr. Johnson's home was just around the corner, but the sidewalk was slick and full of snow. Visions of the poor old man falling and laying helpless in the snow plagued Izzy's mind.

"I don't want to be a bother," he said.

She helped him into his heavy coat. "I insist."

"Well, alright then—if you insist."

She pushed the door with all of her might to open it, the strong wind piled the snow up against it. A blast of arctic air stung her face, flinging tears from her eyes.

Beside her, the old man struggled in the whipping wind, his head down, shuffling through the loose snow. His grip tightened on her arm when the sidewalk sloped slightly and she was thankful he agreed to her help.

"Winter in Michigan is no place for an old man," he muttered.

Around the corner, just a few houses down, was Mr. Johnson's home. He'd told Izzy once that he'd raised seven children in the little bungalow with his wife of forty years. They'd lost one little boy to polio when he was just a year old. His eyes still teared up when he told Izzy that sad story.

His wife passed away nearly twenty years ago. The house held a treasure trove of memories. She knew there was no way he'd ever leave it.

"See you tomorrow, Mr Johnson." Izzy waved to him after he'd opened the door.

"Thank you, dear. Such a kind, sweet girl you are," he said.

She turned back down the sidewalk towards the diner, her feet tingling. She hadn't worn her winter boots and she was regretting it. Still, her heart was warmed by the old man's words.

"Izzy? Izzy, is that you?"

The voice seemed vaguely familiar. She spun around, nearly falling over, blinded by the lights of a Chevy purring a few feet away on the side of the street. The driver's door opened and Lou stepped out, blinking at her through the falling snow.

"Gee Izzy, what in the world are you doing out here in this blizzard all by yourself?"

"Heading back to the diner to wait for
my father to pick me up," called Izzy, against the wind.

"Do you need a ride?"

She shook her head. "It's just around the corner."

He paused, his hand on the car door. "Now that I think of it, a cup of hot coffee would be great, I'll meet you there."

Before Izzy could tell him the diner was closing early, he'd hopped back in his car. He followed her slowly around the corner and parked in the small lot out front.

To Izzy's despair, the lights in the diner were already out and a closed sign hung in the window. Mrs. Hawthorne must have thought she'd left already. She tried the door, it was locked.

Lou stepped out of his car and stared from her to the sign. He scratched his head. "Well, no coffee for me, I guess. Do you need a ride home?"

Izzy sighed. "I suppose I do, my father isn't coming for awhile."

Faced with no other options, she climbed into Lou's car. Lou broke the awkward silence. "So, uh—do you normally walk around outside while you're working at the diner?"

Izzy smiled. "I was walking an old man home from the diner. He only lives a block away, but I was worried about him with all this snow. My boss said we were closing early right before I left. I guess she thought I wasn't coming back."

"I guess I showed up right on time, then," said Lou.

Izzy laughed. "It would've been a long, cold walk home, that's for sure."

His eyes softened as he looked at her and Izzy wondered again why he hadn't called.

"Well, I'm glad to be of service," he said.

"I'm sorry about last night," said Izzy. "For my father—and all of the questions."

"It's a pop thing," said Lou shrugging his shoulders. "Totally expected it."

"I suppose if we were dating it'd be expected," said Izzy.

"Maybe we should."

Izzy's heart leapt painfully in her chest. "What?"

"Maybe we should date. Your pops likes me, I like you. My best buddy is getting hitched to your best friend. Seems simple enough to me," Lou said.

Izzy looked at him long and hard, frowning. She couldn't figure out whether he was teasing her or being serious. Either way, his words unsettled her.

"I'm not ready to date anyone," she said.

"You shouldn't let one bad apple spoil every man on the planet," said Lou. "We aren't all the same. What did he do to break your heart? Two time you? Guys like that make it hard for the rest of us."

"It doesn't matter what he did," Izzy snapped, wishing the ride from the diner to her house wasn't so long. She didn't like the direction the conversation was going.

They stopped at a light. Lou put his hands up. "Alright, alright. I'll drop it."

"Thank you," she said, relieved.

After a few moments of silence she started to feel guilty. After all, she had been waiting for his phone call. Something inside of her wanted to see him again.

"You didn't call."

He braked, the car slipping a little on the ice, and gave her a sideways glance. "I what? Oh—is that why?—. Haven't you ever heard the rule of calling a girl? A guy has to wait longer than a day or it looks desperate."

Izzy couldn't help but laugh. "No, I've never heard that."

He grinned. "So—you did want me to call you."

She blushed a little. "I wouldn't have minded."

They talked the rest of the ride home. When they reached Izzy's house, Lou parked the car. The snow was starting to fall fast from the sky, covering the windshield instantly after the wipers passed over it.

"Just to make sure I have this straight," he said with a chuckle. "You don't want to date, but it's okay to call you?"

"We can even go out with Janet and Fred," said Izzy. "Just nothing serious."

"Well, that's new. I have never in my life heard a girl say she doesn't want anything serious."

Izzy smiled, but there was hurt behind her eyes. She longed to be like other girls, to throw herself back out there and try love again. But she'd just climbed out of a huge canyon of utter darkness. She was balancing on the edge of it—one little push and she might topple back over—and god only knew if she could climb out again if that happened.

Lou helped her out of the car and walked her to her front door. Her family would still be at church for half a hour longer. They stood for a few seconds at the door and Izzy thought, with a little flutter in her chest, that he'd lean in to kiss her. But, instead, he patted her on the arm.

"I'll see you around," he said, and headed back down the stairs.

She opened the door, sighing as she watched him get back in the car.

***

A couple of days went by before Izzy heard from Lou again, and it was through Janet. She and Fred were going ice skating, and wondered if she and Lou would like to join them. Lou had already agreed to go.

Izzy tried to suppress the joy in her voice over the phone as she agreed. She hadn't completely scared him away.

Her father, who sat in his favorite chair with the newspaper across his lap, pulled the pipe out of his mouth for a second to allow a wide smile when she told him her plans.

"Why don't you bring Lou over for dinner one of these days," he said, folding the paper and setting it on the end table. "How about this Saturday? I'll tell your mother to thaw out the roast."

Izzy frowned. "Daddy, Lou and I are just friends. It isn't that serious," she said. She'd been dating Donny for over six months before she'd invited him to dinner.

Her father raised an eyebrow as he popped the pipe back in his mouth, puffing. "Wouldn't hurt to ask. You know you're not getting any younger, Izzy. You're a beautiful young woman, I just want to make sure you have someone to take care of you—someone to grow old with."

"Izzy, can I come with you?" Maria skipped into the room, her ice skates dangling in her hand.

"Well—I guess you can," said Izzy, grateful for her sister's distraction. "I don't mind, as long as mother doesn't need you."

"Oh my gosh, Izzy!" Maria nearly screamed, her face breaking in a huge freckled smile. "Thank you! This is the best day of my life! Daddy, can I go?"

Her father puffed his pipe, his brow wrinkled. With a sigh, he reached for the newspaper. "Go on then, have fun."

Later that evening, Maria sat in between Lou and Izzy in Fred's car, jabbering nonstop. Izzy cast Lou an apologetic glance, but he didn't seem to mind.

"She's cute," he said as they stepped out. "Chatty—but cute."

Izzy laughed. Maria had already taken off down the walkway. Christmas was near and all of the trees surrounding the ice skating rink were strung with pretty white lights that sparkled between packs of snow on their branches.

The weather was mild compared to the last few nights. Couples glided around hand in hand on the ice, their skates synchronized in fluid motions.

A vendor's cart was parked near the rink, serving steaming cups of hot chocolate piled high with whipped cream, to shivering skaters.

"Oh my goodness Izzy!" cried Maria, spinning around in a circle, her arms outstretched in front of the rink. "Isn't this romantic!"

They all laughed.

"It's great seeing you again—even with the kid sister," Lou said as they wrestled on their skates.

"You too," said Izzy with a smile.

His eyes held hers a little too long and she found herself looking away to disguise the warmth she felt.

"Come on, you two," called Fred, his arm around Janet. "Maria's already out there skating circles around us."

"So," said Lou as they climbed onto the rink. "Would it be too serious if I held your hand?"

"I suppose not," said Izzy. "But, if I fall you might go down with me."

He slipped his hand in hers. "I guess it's a chance I have to take."

A soft shiver tickled her stomach at his touch. Feelings that she'd tucked deep inside were coming forward, begging to be let free.

Maria flew passed them, her red curls trailing behind her. She executed a perfect pivot.

"She's good," said Lou. "Puts us to shame."

Izzy looked at him, blushing when she realized his eyes were on her. She swallowed, venturing forward carefully. "Have you dated many girls?"

"A few, here and there. Haven't found that special one yet like my buddy Fred. Why do you ask?"

"I—," her voice trailed off.

He was standing there. At the edge of the rink, looking straight at her. Donny.

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