Fleeting
A short story by Monique Wallace
There’s a tugging on the leg of her pants, her eyes searching down for the culprit and landing on a little girl. Flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes peer up at Aoife from underneath a teal helmet covered with seahorse stickers.
‘Again?’
The little girl nods as she dances in place. Aoife sighs and makes a mental note that next season, she wants to move out of the post-toddler, not-yet-kid age group. They always need to go to the toilet.
Getting tiny boots in and out of skis while trying to avoid blunt-force trauma to the head requires a carefully choreographed routine and more patience than Aoife has ever possessed. The rest of the mini roos stay with their co-instructor while Aoife leads the little girl and two others inside the Perisher Centre.
Aoife hears the whine before she sees the child. ‘This is so booooooooooooring.’
Waiting outside the bathrooms is another ski instructor and a gaggle of kids. The name on his jacket says Vince. From underneath his big blue snow uniform identical to hers, Aoife thinks he looks handsome. Vince smiles with his entire face when he engages with the whinging kid, trying to reassure them it wouldn’t be long until they were back outside. A smile blooms inside Aoife as she joins him to wait for her little girls to use the bathroom.
‘They should tell you this is part of the job when you interview,’ Aoife says in an attempt to make small talk.
‘Reckon many would stick around and do it?’ Vince asks.
‘Maybe. I mean, yeah, I still would. It’s worth it to be on the mountain all day.’
‘And getting paid for it, too.’
Vince smiles at Aoife and she smiles back, the last of his pack of kids ready to go.
‘Until next time.’ He winks at her before walking away and her heart does a somersault. She dines out on the feeling for the rest of the day.
When the same tug on her pants happens again the next morning, Aoife is hopeful Vince will be in the hallway waiting. Her stomach sinks when she walks into the empty space. She waits alone for the last of the girls to have finished in the bathroom. On her way out of the Perisher Centre, Vince holds open the door from the outside. Aoife’s face flushes.
‘Fancy meeting you here.’
‘Thought you were going to leave me hanging,’ Aoife jokes.
‘And disappoint you? Never.’
The day after that, Aoife is at the top of the chairlift on the learners slope when Vince slides in next to her.
‘See you finally found the mountain,’ he says.
‘Thought I’d better branch outside the toilet.’
Vince grins as he glides down the mountain with a kid in bright green skis. Aoife starts daydreaming about any small interaction with Vince, hoping for more to fuel her imagination.
‘How’d you get into this?’ Aoife asks the next day when they find themselves in the hallway again.
‘It’s the same story as everyone, really. I had a deep calling to remind kids to go to the toilet before skiing, have them ignore me and then walk off the slopes about 43 minutes into the lesson because they surprisingly need the bathroom. How ‘bout you?’
‘Well you took mine.’
‘Told ya we all have the same story.’ Vince nudges Aoife and she feels like she could explode.
‘I’m forever chasing winter; this is a good way to do it.’
‘Didn’t think it snowed much in Ireland.’
‘Who said anything about Ireland?’
‘Shit, you’re Scottish? Knew I’d get it wrong.’
Aoife laughs genuinely. ‘Hear how I don’t have an accent? Only my name is Irish. Dad honouring his ancestry despite being fourth-generation Australian.’
‘Always taking someone else’s culture, aren’t we?’
‘Looks like it.’
Aoife’s story is mostly true. She loves winter and being on the slopes. Most Australians love the beach, and sure they’re nice. But for Aoife, there’s nothing better than chasing the snow. Being a seasonal worker also provides the perfect barrier for those questioning why she hasn’t settled down, whatever that means. Maybe because she’s never met someone like Vince. These fleeting moments in hallways outside bathrooms became the highlight of her week. She stopped encouraging the use of the bathroom first, hoping for another chance encounter. Her heart skipped a beat when she caught sight of him in what she’d been mentally referring to as their spot.
‘We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.’ Vince flashes a smile that makes Aoife blush.
‘Sure you’re not making them drink an entire water bottle before the lesson?’
‘You know all my tricks.’ He winks again.
Aoife can’t stop thinking about him; she wants more than these fleeting moments. Every time Aoife plucks up the courage to say something to Vince, she’s interrupted by the small humans currently in her care. By then she loses her nerve. There are only so many times you can be rejected before deciding it’s safer for your heart to wait for them to show interest first. After all, it’s easy to misread the smiles and winks, to build an entire scenario from nothing. It wouldn’t be the first time. Aoife doesn’t know if she’ll continue to have the same schedule as Vince; it changes from week to week. The window of opportunity is closing.
At the end of the last lesson for the week, Aoife searches for Vince. Her whole chest deflates when she can’t find him. She’s dawdling back to the staff area when Vince appears beside her. ‘Hey.’ She smiles with every cell in her body.
Without paying attention to the watchful eyes around them, Vince finally makes his move. ‘I’d love to hang out beyond the bathroom hallway, can I get your number?’