The rest I’ll face with my dad.
For the first time in weeks, I feel steady enough to breathe again.
6
NOELLE
SIX YEARS LATER
The first light of dawn filters through the curtains of my bedroom window, painting the walls in soft hues of grey.
I stir beneath the warmth of my quilt—one of my mom’s last creations before she passed, stitched together with scraps of holiday velvet left over from one of the many Christmas dresses she’d made for me growing up.
Sleep clings to me like a reluctant lover, but before I can burrow down and fall back asleep for another hour, a small hand digs under my covers and grabs onto me.
“Mama! Mama, wake up. It’s snowing outside!”
My eyes peel open slowly.
Eli’s hazel eyes, so like my own, sparkle with excitement as he climbs onto the bed and nearly collapses on top of me.
His pajamas are rumpled and his chestnut curls are a wild, unkept halo on top of his head.
At five, every snowfall is a Christmas miracle to him, a fresh canvas for forts and snowmen.
I blink away the haze of sleep, a smile tugging at my lips despite the early hour. “Is it, now? Let me see.”
I scoop him into my arms, his giggles warm against my neck, and we shuffle over to the window together.
There, beyond the glass, the world has transformed overnight.
A thick blanket of snow drapes the town in pristine white, muffling the streets and turning our sleepy town into a scene from a winter fairy tale.
Pine branches bow under the weight, and the first rays from the sun catch the flakes still drifting lazily from the sky, making them shimmer like diamonds.
Eli presses his nose to the glass, his breath fogging the pane. With a chubby finger, he traces a lopsided heart, then adds stick figures—me with my long hair, him with his tousled mop.
The sight of us in stick figure form melts my heart instantly, making my heart clench.
I hate how fleeting these moments are, how precious.
He’ll only be my little boy for so long and then I’ll be standing on the same porch my own father did when I graduated and left for college.
Back then I never understood why he was so sad to see me go, but now I get it.
When that day comes, I’m going to be devastated.
“It’s perfect,” I murmur, resting my chin on his head, his curls tickling my skin. “Maybe after breakfast, we can get dressed and go outside for a bit. Make a snowman before heading to the shop.”
“Yes! And we have those buttons from last year for the eyes!” He bounces in my arms, nearly toppling us over. His enthusiasm has always been a force of nature, barely contained in his little body.
I laugh and steady us, caught up in his excitement too.
“We sure do,” I say, picturing the jar of mismatched buttons tucked in the hall closet, perfect for a snowman’s mischievous gaze. “We’ll make the best snowman this town’s ever seen.”
I wink and Eli dissolves into giggles. I set him down, his bare feet pattering as he races across the room and quickly heads downstairs.
I take the moment of silence to stretch and get dressed for the day, coming down to find Eli already at the dining room table waiting patiently.
