To lose you in the snow
Chapter 1: The cold actually bothers me.
It's easy to link the Sun and Florida, it's well-known for its beaches after all. But sometimes there's rain. Today the rain fell harder than usual. Mama Beale stared out the window, distracted and melancholic. The rain brought back memories she'd rather avoid. She was grateful for the distraction of the electric kettle as it clicked off. She poured the boiling water into two mugs and set it on the table by her daughter. She grabbed the dainty wooden box that contained a myriad of colorful tea bags and placed it on the table. Mama Beale sat next to her daughter and picked out her favorite, a raspberry herbal tea. When she looked up, she saw Chloe was crying. She pulled her daughter into an embrace and let her cry on her shoulder. Her mom was always her pillar. Mama Beale was deeply concerned for her only daughter; this was the first time in days since she'd left her bedroom. After winning that USO tour she'd come home one night devastated. That was months ago.
Christmas was just around the corner and usually around this time of the year Chloe would be singing and putting up decorations. Chloe loved Christmas, she and her father would always go all out, and they'd spend hours decorating the house. She'd stopped for a time after he passed, but she picked it up again after a few years. This reminded Mama Beale of those dark times when Chloe shut herself off from the world and stayed in bed for months.
Mama Beale had never seen her daughter so distraught over anyone, not even after that nice Tom fella she dated for a while back in college. Sure, she cried for about a week but that was it. She wanted to ask what happened, but she knew better. In her experience, she knew to let Chloe come to her when she was good and ready, as she always did. No matter how long it takes.
Mama Beale raised Chloe all on her own after losing her husband and almost losing her daughter because of a drunk driver. That night almost irreparably destroyed her. She remembered the weeks it took for her to get her daughter back, she barely had time to mourn her husband. She kept watch over her daughter as she held on for dear life, tubes and needles probed and prodded into her body. Mama Beale didn't know how many nights she spent crying and praying to God. If given the opportunity Mama Beale would have traded places with her daughter. Chloe remembered that day vividly, sometimes in the late nights she would still have nightmares about it. Chloe even had the scar on her forehead as a reminder. When she was given the option to cover it with plastic surgery she vehemently refused. Chloe wanted to remember that day and her love for her father. She wanted to remember the bad and the good alike no matter how much it hurt.
After losing her husband, Mama Beale committed herself to being a mother. She became a model of what a single widowed mother was expected to look like according to society. No love interests, nothing of the sort, she was just Chloe's mom. She volunteered for every little school activity and supported her daughter through all of her music training and singing competitions. Of course, it hadn't been particularly easy but to watch her Chloe blossom into a beautiful, talented woman made it all worth it. What she didn't know was that Chloe wished she'd find someone. She just wanted her mother to be happy.
"Baby girl, you know I'm here if you wanna talk about it."
"I know Mom, it's just-"
"Is this about that girl? With the raccoon eyes. What's her name? Beca?"
Chloe hadn't realized how transparent she was to her mother, even though this was a fairly common occurrence in their lives. Chloe loved with all her heart and whenever that love wasn't reciprocated it would break her and Mama Beale was always there to help pick up the pieces.
Mama Beale hated seeing her daughter like this. Her only crime was loving completely and selflessly. Chloe hadn't told her about her sexual orientation. There had been some fear about rejection there, not a lot, but just enough to make her hesitate.
"You knew?"
"Baby girl, of course, now listen here, I don't care if it's a girl or a boy or anything in between, I just want you to be happy."
"Oh Mom, Thank you."
Chloe cried deep and hard into her mother's embrace. Love was so complicated. Why couldn't it be easy, she wondered? Was it so hard to love someone so fully and expect the same? Chloe remembered Aubrey warning her about her proclivities towards love. Aubrey told her to protect herself but for Chloe that made no sense. What's there to protect when you love someone?
"You really love this girl Beca don't you?" Her mother used the term love, not like. Because for Chloe to be this distraught it was love, her brand of pure, unashamed, passionate love. Mama Beale understood perfectly because she too felt love the same way. In a way, she still loved her husband and probably would for the rest of her days.
"I do, I keep trying to call her or message her but… I'm scared. I'm scared she'll ignore me, or reject me. I'm scared that it will hurt more."
"Oh, baby girl. What you gonna do with this hurt?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, it seems to me that pain and hurt are natural body responses, it's your body telling you that something is wrong and we need to fix it, to heal."
"Fix it, to heal?"
"That's right, now how you going to heal?"
"Can I heal and fight for her?"
"Baby girl, healing is fighting."
That was new. It made sense but in the past in this same situation, the phrase fighting for had never come up.
"Baby girl, I can't tell you how many times we've been here. You crying on my shoulder over some boy who ain't worth two shucks. But I don't know, this one seems special."
"We haven't spoken in months though, you think she'll even want to see me?"
"I think the more important question is, do you want to see her?"
"I do, it'll hurt but I do. Do you think she's worth all this? Worth fighting for?"
"I think only you know the answer to that, and no matter what you decide, I support you. Come hell or high water."
"Come hell or high water, Mom," Chloe repeated—their almost family motto. Come hell or high water. "What should I do Mom? It's been months."
"Didn't y'all book out that cabin for Christmas?"
Chloe remembered that day, she remembered making mulled wine and forcing Beca to sit with her and watch one of her favorite Christmas movies, A Miracle on 34th Street. After all her protesting, Beca had been in tears at the end, which wasn't all that unusual. Chloe had the idea that it'd be nice to spend Christmas in Upstate New York with all of the Barden Bellas. The mulled wine made them happy and gave them rose-colored glasses over an idyllic version of Christmas.
Beca was all in, whenever Beca had more than a few drinks she'd pretty much agree to whatever the hell Chloe suggested. A White Christmas on a lake somewhere in Upstate New York? Sure! Best idea ever. They booked it right then and there. Booking insurance? No, thank you, it's a scam anyway.
The problem with that plan was that the rest of the Bellas bailed because they all had plans. But Chloe and Beca made a pact, they'd go regardless and have an awesome Christmas together. Because that's what best friends do, right? Also, money is a thing.
"I think you should go see her, surprise her. I'm sure she's waiting for you."
"What about Christmas?"
"We'll always have next year. What if she's up there all alone waiting for you?"
"You think so? Even after all this time?"
"It's Christmas, what else she got going on?"
Chloe had never visited upstate New York, or New York at all for that matter. But she always loved how it looked in the movies when there was snow everywhere, friendly people, Christmas decorations, and random little festivals with hot cocoa and a jolly Santa Claus. It was Chloe's dream to experience a real New York White Christmas and to share one with Beca would just be the cherry on top. After that heart-to-heart with her mother, she decided to book a flight to NY. During the flight, she had been so anxious that she decided to skip food, and just had some coffee. As soon as she landed she made a beeline towards the rental cars. She was going to the cabin that she and Beca booked. Come hell or high water.
It would have been nice if the rest of the girls could have made it, but she understood wanting to spend the holidays with your loved ones. She wanted to spend her Christmas with Beca.
Chloe only half listened when the car rental agent mentioned that the blizzard was about to get bad and that she was lucky to get the last car on the lot and to please be very careful because the car wasn't equipped with AWD. She'd make it to the cabin. Come hell, high water, or snow.
While Chloe was from Florida, she had some experience with snow. But this was something new, she wasn't expecting this much snow. She chastised herself, she should have worn proper winter clothing. She had been so nervous about seeing Beca and made the mistake of choosing style over weather-appropriate. She hadn't really planned to spend much time outside anyway.
Driving up to the cabin in the blizzard was a lot more difficult than she thought. There was very little visibility, it was starting to get terrifying. She wasn't the best at driving in this weather, but it seemed fairly straightforward. Don't drive too fast and stay in your lane, seems simple enough right?
That was until the vehicle suddenly slid. Chloe didn't know not to slam on the brakes, and she didn't know about turning into the slide but her worst mistake was panicking and over-correcting, the vehicle spun out of control. It happened so quickly that she barely got to register it. She felt disconnected from herself and the world. She was dissociating. She couldn't move, she was frozen in place and lost time. Seconds that felt like minutes went by. She was suddenly flooded by images of that dark night all those years ago—the night of the car crash. A single tear escaped her eyes. There were images of her father's smile turning to horror, and images of fluorescent lighting overhead and people rushing all around her, and she could hear muffled sounds of her mother crying and praying.
The airbag deployed, snapping her out of her trance. She screamed and started to punch the airbag in a fruitless effort to get away from it. She scrambled out of the car and fell forward into the snow.
She was hyperventilating, and she could feel sweat on the palms of her hands beneath her gloves.
"Am I OK?" She asked herself repeatedly as her heartbeat raced, she kept trying to take in air but it felt like it wasn't enough, like it would never be enough. And she was crippled by a heavy fear of death.
She was having a panic attack.
She hadn't had one in a long time. It took her a second to remember her old coping skills. She remembered her mother took her to a therapist when she was younger, it helped her manage her grief and her panic attacks. One day sitting in the therapist's office, a kind man with a gentle face walked her through what to do during a panic attack. She remembered his voice being gentle and soothing.
That's when she remembered the technique grounding that's what it was called. What was it? 5-4-3-2-1?
Yes, that's it. It was the therapist's voice, it was gentle and soothing and it helped calm her.
Five things you can see; "I see snow, and the blue car, and the trees, and more fucking snow." OK, that's good, now let's focus on what else can you see? "I can see the tires." Good!
As she named things she worked on her breath, and she practiced diaphragmatic breathing which helped deactivate her fight or flight response. Remember don't rush it, it's going to want you to rush it but remember to count as you inhale through your nose and exhale through your mouth. OK good!
Now four things you can touch? "My gloves, they feel cheap and cold, my puffy jacket, my cold face, and my butt starting to get wet from the snow." OK, that's it, we are slowly coming back, keep going.
Three things you can hear, "I can hear the wind, the open door chime, and water somewhere?" We are almost there, keep going. What are two things you can smell?
"I smell, snow. It smells clean? I can also smell burnt tire."
Almost home free. Last one, what can you taste?
"Cheap yet somehow expensive airport coffee." You did it!
It helped, grounding and breathing helped, she also kept repeating to herself that she wasn't hurt, she was OK. She was regaining functionality. She was still shaky and scared but functional she was able to move.
That's when her stomach decided to voice his concerns and grumbled. "I should have eaten on the plane."
Her heart was still pounding but it was slowing down, and her hands were still shaking, but what hurt the most was her thighs due to the sudden clench as her body prepared for the impact. Thankfully she wasn't physically injured in any way. She had been lucky, the accident hadn't been disastrous, just terrifying. Chloe got back in the car and tried to reverse the car out of the snowbank but it wasn't moving. She tried to move it forward, but no luck either, it was stuck. She pulled out her phone and tried to call AAA or the rental agency but no signal.
She was grateful the phone saved the route so it could be viewed offline. Looking at the map she noticed she wasn't that far from the cabin, maybe a mile or less. She considered her options and realized she didn't have any. She looked at the map again and thought she could walk it, she did lots of cardio after all.
The second she stepped outside of the car the cold hit her. She wasn't expecting the cold to hit her this hard. The temperature meter in the car read 17 degrees Fahrenheit which was the coldest she'd ever experienced in her life.
"OK, that's cold, holy shit that's cold. No turning back now." Come hell or high water or cold.
The cold was oppressive, and it tore at her, but Chloe wasn't discouraged. She grabbed the bag from the trunk and decided to brave the road. Just follow the road and when you get to the cabin, she was certain it would all get sorted soon. Less than a mile yet it felt longer than she'd ever imagined, her breathing was faster than she'd expected, and her bag felt impossibly heavier. And she was hungry, she was in the early stages of starvation. Chloe knew from her understanding of diet and exercise that her body was consuming calories it didn't have, and soon it would begin to consume itself and she would grow weaker and colder.
No matter how much she tried to bundle up it didn't feel like enough, and the wind hurt her face, she grimaced. She wished she'd worn a better coat.
Chloe was tempted to try the phone again, maybe call Beca. But what if she wouldn't answer? Could she even hear her through the storm? "I have to try." The second she took off her gloves the bitter cold cut through them. She tried to touch the screen, but it hurt so much. Shit. She decided to put the gloves on. It's not that much further ahead anyway. Just keep moving.
A few more feet into the blizzard she realized she made a grave mistake leaving the car. But she was past the point of no return. She bit her lips and grimaced, trying to push past the pain.
Chloe continued her trek, but she could tell that she was moving a lot slower and that her breath was beginning to get ragged. And she had never been this tired and hungry in her life. The blizzard was getting more intense, and the wind was making it harder to move forward. Chloe missed her Floridian sun so much right now. Whatever magic the powdery foot of snow may have had was gone the first five fucking seconds into this trek. Now each step felt like she was climbing uphill, and her legs were starting to feel like rubber.
She was wearing regular boots without proper insulation and regular cotton socks that felt damp, and the cold cut through them, the pain was unbearable. Her toes were freezing, and Chloe wondered if this was what frostbite felt like. The idea scared her, and she moved as fast as she could, but she was starting to panic. And panic overrides reason. At no point did she consider opening her bag to put on more clothes. Her movements turned sluggish and uncoordinated.
Her lips were more than chapped, they were getting darker and frozen, and they hurt so much. She felt so stupid. She messed up badly. Should she have stayed behind in the car? Maybe keep trying for AAA and wait there? No, she'd freeze to death when the car ran out of fuel. Maybe she should have stayed behind with her mother in Florida. No, to stay behind, to try and forget, that for her in some shape or form felt also like death. She worked so hard and came all this way. It had been the right call but now she was in actual trouble. Life or death trouble.
Every step forward took every ounce of strength in her body. The hunger was gone, there was only a feeling of emptiness and thinning. Her breathing turned strangled and wheezing. A few more feet she thought, it had to be just up ahead. You can make it a few more feet. She was losing motor control of her limbs. They weren't responding as she was instructing. Just keep swimming she told herself, channeling Dory's from her favorite film Finding Nemo.
Just keep swimming, you stupid wobbly legs.
What started as a brave mantra became a whimper. Exhaustion won and her body began shutting down.
"Chloe!" A shout pierced through the shrieking wind was the last thing she heard. Her vision was fading, everything was going dark.
To be continued.