There was snow, but not like she remembered growing up. She remembered 

snow

coming in December and staying for weeks. That never happened anymore. She wondered whether this was actually how it was, or if her memory was romanticizing the past. It was possible that she remembered the snowy days better. Winter was unpleasant without the snow. The short, dark days. The cold and dry air. The pristine whiteness that enveloped everything made up for all that.

McKayla was on her way to visit an old high school friend. She hadn't seen her in over two years now. The friend had been responding less and less until eventually they sent maybe one message every three or four months. McKayla had assumed that her friend was doing quite well and was too busy to respond. In the past whenever McKayla would fall out of touch with someone this is her default assumption, "they aren't talking to me anymore because they are busy with life, and life is good."

For the friends who were in relationships and were having kids this seemed to be the case. For all other friends this naive assumption ended up being false. This friend from high school fell in the second category. The drive was easy. About twenty minutes on the freeway and then a straight shot off of an exit. The local part reminded of her of the town she grew up in. There was a young looking couple walking together and the town had put some wreaths at the top of black metal lamp posts.

The snow wasn't the pristine kind. Smudged with dirt and almost gone. Thawed and refrozen and only one sunny day away from vanishing.