I gave my reflection a little grin, wished Walter luck with his grand test of character, locked my front door, and stepped out into the bitter dark. Right on time, I arrived at the tall iron gate of the city park.
The cold hit my cheeks instantly—the only part of me still exposed. Snow crunched under my boots, and the sound echoed down the empty paths. There was hardly another soul in sight. The whole place felt deserted.
Every sensible person in town had stayed home that night, tucked inside with the heat on. Even the so-called gold diggers Walter complained about were surely somewhere warm. Only two fools in the whole city had chosen to challenge the weather for the sake of this strange little experiment.
Near the entrance stood a lonely, miserable-looking man trying very hard to appear composed. It was Walter, wearing a thin wool coat that might have worked fine in late fall but had no business being outside in weather like this. He kept shifting from one foot to the other, trying to keep his blood moving.
Every so often he gave a little hop in place, like his body had taken over and was trying to save him. His bare hands kept flying to his mouth so he could breathe into them. The tip of his nose had already turned a troubling shade of purple.
His ears, sticking out from under a knit cap, were bright red against his pale face. I waddled toward him in my oversized winter gear like a practical little penguin and stopped at a comfortable distance.
Through my scarf, I said hello. My voice came out muffled, and the wind nearly carried it away, but he heard me and turned. He looked me over with open surprise, clearly not expecting this much insulation.
It was obvious he had imagined something else entirely—some delicate woman in stylish boots, shivering prettily in the cold while he played the strong, stoic man. I suspect he had pictured himself feeling noble and masculine beside a woman who needed saving.
Instead, what stood before him looked more like a member of an Arctic rescue team. There was nothing romantic about my appearance. It radiated one thing only: common sense.
His jaw was clenched so hard it looked painful, but he managed to say that I had certainly dressed for the weather. I reminded him, not unkindly, of his own words about wanting a woman ready to go through fire and water with him. I told him I figured we might as well start with extreme cold.
Before he could object, I cheerfully suggested we begin our walk and enjoy all that fresh winter air he’d been so enthusiastic about. With the expression of a man regretting several recent decisions, he nodded and followed me into the dark park path.
