“Daddy, the middle ball needs to be bigger! It looks like he has no belly!”
Enrick shoots me an amused look as he rolls more snow onto the midsection. I focus on finding sticks for arms.
“Mommy, these sticks are too small! The snowman needs strong arms like Daddy!”
“The snowman’s a little full of himself,” I mutter, but I search for bigger branches.
The property is admittedly stunning—acres of white stretching toward the tree line, icicles hanging from the gazebo. If I weren’t so aware of Enrick ten feet away, I might actually enjoy this.
“Look what I found!” Asher appears, holding a carrot triumphantly. “The nose.”
“Yes!” She claps her mittened hands. “Now we need buttons and—”
A snowball hits me square in the back.
I turn to find Gina grinning wickedly. Penny already has another snowball ready.
“Oh, you did not just—”
The second snowball catches Enrick in the chest.
What follows is chaos. Bella shrieks with delight as she pelts us with tiny snowballs that mostly disintegrate mid-air. The teenagers have better aim and no mercy. Enrick and I find ourselves backed against the snowman, using our creation as a shield.
“On three, we flank them,” he says, grinning. “You go left—”
I’m already moving, scooping snow as I run. Bella chases me, laughing so hard she can barely throw straight. I let her catch me, falling dramatically into a snowbank.
“I got you, Mommy! I won!”
“You’re too fast for me!” I play dead, spread-eagle in the snow.
She throws herself on top of me, giggling. Then Enrick’s there too, having successfully pelted the teenagers and their mother into retreat. He flops down beside us, close enough that our shoulders touch.
Bella rolls until she’s wedged between us. “This is the best day ever.”
My ribs feel too small suddenly, like my heart’s trying to expand past what I’ll allow.
“Hey princess, want to make snow angels?” Enrick suggests, already moving away to make room for his arms and legs.
We make a whole family of them—big daddy angel, medium mommy angel, tiny Bella angel. She insists they need to hold hands, so we scoot carefully until the wing marks connect.
“Perfect!” She jumps up to admire our work, then gasps. “We need to take a picture!”
She races toward the house, leaving Enrick and me lying there, connected by snow angel wings.
“She’s having fun,” he says quietly.
“Yeah.”
“Are you?”
I turn my head to look at him, finding him already watching me. Snow clings to his eyelashes, his cheeks red from cold and exertion. He looks young like this. Like the man I met six years ago.
“Don’t do that,” I say.
“Do what?”
“Look at me like...” I can’t finish.
