Southside Story – Winter 1972 Part 30: A Quiet Moment on a Soft Winter Evening
It happened on one of those quiet winter evenings where the snow wasn’t falling hard—just drifting, floating in the streetlights like tiny sparks.
Derrick had walked to Rod’s Superette on the corner 41st & Chicago to pick up a loaf of bread for his mother. It was the kind of quick errand you don’t think twice about. He didn’t expect to see Tasha walking out of the store at the same time, clutching a small paper bag, her scarf pulled tight around her braids.
She blinked in surprise.
“Derrick?”
He smiled.
“Hey. What you doing out in this cold?”
“Getting some hot chocolate. Cathy keeps drinking all of it.”
“That sounds like Cathy.”
She laughed softly, her breath floating into the air like the snowflakes around them. They stood there for a second—not awkward, but unsure of where to go next. Finally, Tasha pointed toward Portland Avenue.
“You walking home?”
“Yeah.”
“Wanna walk together?”
Derrick nodded without hesitation.
They walked side by side, boots crunching through the fresh snow. Cars passed slowly, headlights glowing against the winter haze. Neither talked much at first. But the quiet wasn’t uncomfortable. It was warm. It was the kind of silence where you don’t need to fill the space because being together is enough.
Tasha hugged the small paper bag to her chest. Derrick kept his hands in his pockets, trying to look calm even though his heart was doing its own thing.
When they reached the block where their paths split— they paused under a streetlight dusted with fresh snow on the top. The light made the falling flakes glow around them. Tasha shifted the bag in her hands.
“So… how you been?” she asked.
“Good,” Derrick said. “Busy. School’s crazy.”
“I know.” She laughed softly. “School is always crazy.”
He nodded. They both knew it too well. Tasha looked at him for a moment— long enough to make him swallow nervously. Then she said,
“You know… I never really… had somebody to talk to like I talk to you.”
Derrick raised his eyebrows slightly.
“Me?”
“Yeah.” She smiled small. “You listen. You’re… gentle.”
He blinked. Nobody ever called him gentle before. He didn’t know what to say. So he spoke from honesty:
“You make it easy.”
Her smile deepened—quiet, sincere, warm.
A cold wind blew suddenly, making Tasha shiver.
“You cold?” Derrick asked.
“A little.”
Without thinking, he pulled off the cap he was wearing, and put it on her head.
Tasha looked at him and smiled.
“Thank you,” she whispered. Her cheeks warmed, even in the freezing air— and Derrick’s chest warmed right along with them. It wasn’t a big gesture. It wasn’t romantic or dramatic. But it meant everything in that moment.
Tasha stepped back toward her street. She hesitated.
“Derrick?”
“Yeah?”
“You……mean a lot to me.”
She said it so quietly he almost missed it over the wind.
“As a friend,” she added quickly—but her eyes said more.
Derrick felt the words land somewhere deep.
“You mean a lot to me too,” he said. And he meant it. Snow drifted gently between them.
A softness. A warmth. A beginning.
“Goodnight, Derrick,” she said.
“See You later Tasha.”
She walked away slowly, turning once and smiling. Derrick walked home with one bare head and one warm heart.