Snowbound Beginnings

A father recalls a snowy accident that led him to love, family, and home.

Keith Chamberlain leaned back in his chair as the fire popped softly, three pairs of curious eyes fixed on him. “All right,” he said, smiling, “you’ve heard this story a hundred times, but you always ask for it again.”

It was a snowy afternoon, years ago, the kind where the world turns white and familiar streets feel brand new. I’d just moved to town and didn’t know a soul. My car skidded at the corner by Maple Street, slid right into a snowbank, and refused to move another inch. I got out and stood there, boots soaked, wondering if this was a sign I should’ve stayed home.

That’s when I saw her.

She came out of a little blue house across the street, bundled in a red coat, laughing at the mess the weather had made. Her hair was blonde, catching what little light the sky offered, and she waved like we were already friends. I remember thinking she looked warm in this cold world.

“Need a push?” she called.

We talked while shoveling, our words puffing into the air. She told me she baked too much when it snowed and always had extra. I told her I was terrible at directions and apparently even worse at driving. By the time the car was free, my hands were numb, but my chest felt full.

She invited me inside for coffee. I said yes too fast.

Keith looked at his kids and softened. “I didn’t leave until after dark,” he said. “And I came back the next day.”

He smiled, remembering. “Sometimes,” he finished, “you don’t find home. Sometimes, it finds you.”

Outside, the snow kept falling, silent and patient, just like it had the day he met the woman who would become their mother.


Word Count: 294
Written for: "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge" 
Prompt: Write a story that includes the words: snow, blonde, house