Roger Barr

Finally, the days had settled down. Most people returned to their hectic routines, though a few, myself included, lingered a little longer.

However, that didn’t mean life was quiet for me. Since sunrise, my phone hadn’t stopped ringing, and I’d been glued to my laptop, sifting through emails and reports.

"Why don't you take a breather and come with me?" Mom suggested as I finally had time to shut my eyes. “I’d love that.” Most of the major tasks were done, so I grabbed my coat and keys, and followed her into town. We stopped at the only market around.

The fridge back home was nearly empty, so I pushed the trolley while Mom filled it with the essentials. I slipped in a few extras — snacks, drinks, sweets, and two boxes of cereal. Mom gave me a look before shaking her head. “I’m forever childish when I shop with you, Mom,” I said with a laugh. She playfully flicked my forehead in response.

“Is that Janey?” Mom asked, pointing toward a familiar figure in the ice cream aisle. Sure enough, there she was — slightly plumper from her pregnancy, staring down the freezers like the fate of the world depended on which tub of ice cream she chose.

“Hello, dear.” Mom approached, and Janey’s face lit up the moment she saw us.
“Hello, Mrs. Barr. Roger,” she said warmly. “Stocking up too?”
“You know it,” Mom laughed, while I kept to the background.
“Are you here alone?” she asked.

Janey shook her head. “I’m with my husband and sister. They’re somewhere around here.” She glanced down the aisles as if expecting them to appear.

“You can stick with us while you find them,” Mom offered. And just like that, today’s quick errand turned into a hangout. Before long, we’d somehow ended up at a cafe with Janey, Rui, and Paige.

Paige and I ended up sitting next to each other. When the two ladies headed to the washroom, the pager buzzed aggressively — shaking the whole table with it. Rui, without hesitation, left to get the orders.

And then, there were two. Silences immediately wrapped our table, I quietly glanced to my left. She played with the hem of her clothes — fidgeting like a school kid waiting for the principal to call her name.

I cleared my throat which she involuntarily jumped before her ears began to turn red. “Yesterday was nice,” I tried to lessen the awkwardness. “Yeah, it was great.” She finally faced me, hesitant but smiling.

“The food was amazing,” her lips surely began to broaden. “Everyone brought amazing dishes.” She glanced around before talking into a whisper, “Your mom’s was the best.” We paused for a full second before snickering like teens.

I remembered enjoying our talk at the dinner party; she hadn’t minded when I rambled about work.

This time was no different. We bounced from one subject to another, her jokes spilling out mid-sentence before she even finished them. She always broke into laughter too soon, and it was so contagious that I never actually heard the punchline.

“When are you heading back?” I asked.

“In two days,” she replied.

“Me too.” We compared our tickets and, sure enough, we were on the same flight. We cracked up at the coincidence — it felt like running into a friend at the corner store. Simple, funny, and just enough to keep the conversation going.

The cafe stop was supposed to be a quick break, but somehow dad showed up with James — who had finally insisted I stop calling him Mr. Johnson.

My parents immediately launched into a round of questions about the baby, which Janey happily answered. Mom even shared a few tips and tricks. Everything was going well until she started bringing up some of my embarrassing childhood stories. Everyone laughed, and the girls thought it was adorable. Then James countered with a few of their own, and suddenly it was my turn to laugh.

Paige quickly saved herself by suggesting we try the ice-skating rink nearby. From the cafe window, we could see people gliding across the ice, mostly kids. The sights of tumbling skaters and the sound of laughter felt like a scene from a movie brought to life. If I’d chosen to stay home, I would have missed all of this — the noise, the joy, and the surprising lightness in my chest.

The elders declined right away, and Janey backed out too, though she offered to be our photographer. That left Rui and me to join Paige. 

It had been years since I’d worn these shoes with silver blades strapped to the bottom. The height felt strange, and my body slightly wobbled as it tried to adjust to the sudden shift in balance.

I turned to Rui and Paige, hands on my hips as I waited. Paige nearly stumbled backward, and I caught her arm just in time. She gave me a quick thanks, then clung to my arm as she tried to steady herself.

“I can barely stand. How am I supposed to walk… or skate?” she muttered, brows knitted together in frustration as a frown settled on her face.

Rui picked it up quickly, no surprise, since he used to rollerblade. “I could’ve gone pro,” he joked, “as long as Paige was the other contestant.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Paige shot back, giving him a shove with her mittened hand before laughing anyway. A moment later, Rui skated off to Janey, who happily snapped a picture of her husband.

Paige was having a rough time. She kept falling in the same spot, struggling every time to get back up. I offered her my hand, and she gave me a grateful smile as I pulled her to her feet.

But a moment later she slipped again, this time dragging me down with her. We both yelped before crashing onto the cold ice, and then burst into uncontrollable laughter.
“My butt is going to be so sore after this,” she groaned as I carefully helped her up again. She tried to fix her scarf, but only managed to let go of my hand for a heartbeat before grabbing it back to steady herself.

I guided her hands to my waist and tied her scarf properly. She thanked me, and I started teaching her the basics. Her posture was awkward —half bent, arms swinging wildly like she was trying to swat invisible flies. Janey, of course, was loving it and recording every second.

“I think I’m too old for this,” Paige muttered under her breath, clinging to me for dear life. Then, with a huff of bravery, she let go and managed a few shaky steps before spinning back toward me, eyes lit with excitement.

“Did you see that—” She fell before she could finish, collapsing onto the ice. Still, her laughter rang out, her face glowing with pride at the tiny victory. I chuckled and helped her back up.

“I did. You did great. Now you can let go of me,” I said, glancing at her hands still gripping my arms.
“Not until I stop falling on my butt!” she shot back, half-pleading.

“Paige, you’ll never learn if you cling to your mama bird!” Janey shouted from the sidelines. A few people turned at her enthusiasm, smiling at the scene. “That’s how you learn — fall, get up, repeat!” she added with a mischievous grin.

The sisters immediately bickered over her so-called “advice,” and I couldn’t help laughing at their silliness.

“Why don’t you just hold my hand and skate with me?” I suggested. “I promise I’ll go slow.” She nodded and, still smiling, slipped her hand into mine as we skated side by side.

After a few rounds, I slowly let go. She panicked at first, arms flailing, but I cheered her on. She shot me a glare, yet kept her balance.

“Yay! You did it!” I called. She was skating on her own now, while I stayed just close enough to catch her if she fell.

When we finally left the rink, Paige collapsed into the snow, flat on her back and completely exhausted.

“Thanks for teaching me,” she said with a smile, still sprawled out. I hesitated, lying in the snow wasn’t exactly appealing, but she tugged me down beside her. I yelped at the icy shock, and she laughed. That laugh sparked my mischief. I scooped up a handful of snow and tossed it at her.

She shrieked at the sudden hit, the cold stinging her cheek, but her retaliation came quickly. Before long, we were flinging snow at each other, laughing so hard the crisp winter air carried our voices across the field.

Janey and Rui brought over steaming cups of hot chocolate, and we lingered until the sun began to set. Our parents chatted inside the cozy cafe while we stayed out in the snow, building a snowman and sneaking in a few more snowball fights. The sky shifted through shades of orange and pink, painting the perfect backdrop.

“It’s so pretty,” Janey murmured, her nose red from the cold.

We ended up making snowmen of all shapes and sizes, laughing like we were kids again. I glanced to my side and couldn’t help but smile at the sight of everyone’s flushed skin under the evening glow. This was nice — just being carefree, forgetting about work, and feeling like a kid again.

I pulled out my phone, my finger stiff from the cold, and snapped the moment. Smiles brighter than the stars, rosy cheeks kissed by winter, and figures radiating joy — all forever immortalized.

The sky shimmered into a red purplish glow and then it grew darker before long, the street lights turned on.

"Let’s grab something to eat before heading home," we agreed, and just like that, the next few days were filled with meetups and laughter.

The flight back was nothing short of entertaining with Janey beside me. She chatted nonstop, showing me photos from the party, and I burst out laughing when she accidentally revealed a picture of a sleepy Paige.

But once I stepped into my dimly lit room of my apartment, reality settled back in. What struck me most was the realization that I hadn’t thought about her in days. Not because I was too busy but for the first time in a long while, I had fun. And I was okay.

Everything was starting to look up. My feet moved swiftly as if my body was light as a feather, I unpacked and ate dinner, all while grinning like a Cheshire cat— maybe even floating like one.

Mom was right, “Without her doesn’t mean I’m lonely.”

I sat down at my makeshift desk,I printed the pictures and pasted them on the fridge, our smiles brightening the room.