“Hello, Tristan. Looks like we have some pretty good powder for sledding.”
“Aunt Morgan taught me how.”
“Did she race you?”
“We haven’t raced, although I’m sure he would beat me by a long shot. He’s super fast.”
Tristan stomped his feet, knocking the snow off his boots. “Do you want to race me?”
“Sure.”
Morgan handed Greg the rope handle. “I’ll be the starter.”
The pair steered their sleds to the edge. With her back to the hill, Morgan lifted both hands, palms facing forward, and counted to three.
“One…two…three!” Her arms snapped to her side. Off they went, man and boy, flying down the steep hill, racing at breakneck speed toward the lake.
The sleds stayed neck and neck until almost reaching the straightaway at the bottom. Greg, with his head low, pulled ahead. At the last minute, he jerked the rope and veered right.
Tristan pulled to the left. His sled abruptly swerved and slammed into a snowbank.
Morgan watched in horror as his small frame flew off the seat. With arms flailing, he landed on the side of the snowbank and rolled to the bottom.
She took off at a dead run, calling his name. The faster she tried running, the slower she went, as if she was moving in slow motion.
Greg, realizing what had happened, scrambled to his feet and ran to the boy’s side. “Are you okay?”
Tristan lay perfectly still, not moving.
“Oh my gosh.” Morgan dropped to her knees. “Tristan! Can you hear me?”
His eyes flew open, and he giggled. “I was thinking about making a snow angel.”
“You’re not hurt?”
“Uh-uh.” He bolted upright. “Did I scare you?”
“Yes.” She shook her finger at him. “You took years off my life.”
“I’m sorry. I figured you knew I was okay.”
“You scared both of us, the way you fell, or should I say flew, off the sled,” Greg said.
“I won’t do it again.” Tristan laid back down and began moving his arms and legs, creating a snow angel. “Can we build a snowman now?”
Morgan grabbed a handful, gauging its “packability.”
“This is perfect snowman-making snow,” Greg said.
“I can be pretty creative when I put my mind to it.” Morgan scooped up a generous amount and began packing it. “First, we have to roll the base.”
Working together, the trio rolled the largest of the three snowballs. With Tristan’s input, they found the perfect spot for their snowman and began working on the middle ball.
After finishing, they lifted the ball and placed it on top of the bigger base.
“I’m putting you in charge of rolling his head,” Morgan said.
“I see some new snow over there.” Tristan waded through the drift. Dropping to his knees, he began rolling the ball toward them. He stopped a few feet away. “How is this?”
