“The fucking snow sphinx, Lena,” he grumbles. “I look like an amateur compared to that.”
“Huh, oh yeah.” I shrug, pretending it isn’t the most badass thing I’ve ever made. “Sorry your kids think I’m cooler than you.”
As I go to brush invisible lint off my shoulder, Auggie collides with me, and we both fall right into the sphinx.
“Auggie,” I scream at the top of my lungs, my gloved fists slamming into his puffy jacket and having absolutely no effect. “I didn’t get a picture!”
Pen and Jack jump right on top of us, rolling back and forth, and pressing snow into my cheeks. After a few minutes in the scuffle, I manage to wiggle out of their wrestling pile and seek refuge where Zara and Gavin are building something together.
Gavin kneels beside their structure, his all-black ensemble a stark difference from the snow. His gloved hands are working diligently to construct some sort of playground, with steps to climb up and a long slide that ends in a heap of fluffy powder.
“I can’t decide if this looks like a great idea or a head injury waiting to happen,” I tell them, brushing snow off my pants.
Zara tilts her head as she creates a snow-railing along the edge of the slide. “At least if they fall off, they’ve got some padding on.”
Jack shoves himself by me, heading fearlessly toward the steps. When he gets to the bottom one, Gavin stands to hold his waist while he climbs up, then keeps a grip on his hand as he goes down the other side with an ear-splitting squeal.
“Me next,” Pen calls, running to the steps.
Looping an arm through Zara’s, I lean my head on her shoulder. “Want to go on a walk with me? Leave these overgrown boys to watch the children?”
Auggie dives down the slide headfirst with a roar and crashes his face into the pile of snow at the bottom. The kids fall over laughing as Gavin attempts to yank him up.
“Don’t whine to me when you’re sore tomorrow morning. You’re too old for that,” Zara calls over her shoulder as I pull her toward the field beside Mama’s house. “I don’t even know if we can trust Gavin to be in charge,” she murmurs to me.
We create our own path through last night’s untouched snow, walking directly onto the empty lot. Following the line of trees, we stay in the open field at the front of the property, chatting about the party last night and what they did this morning while Gavin and I were gone.
As we get to the far edge of the field, she voices the question I’ve been equal parts dreading and hoping she would bring up.
“What did you and Gavin do?”
“Umm …” I bite my lips, and something she sees in my expression answers her question immediately.
She gasps and pauses her steps, hands wrapping around my wrists to turn me to face her. “Lena Santos. What happened?” The giddiness in her tone relaxes my shoulders a little.
“Can you promise you won’t talk to Auggie about it?”
“Only if you promise to give me all the details.”
With a breath of relief, I pour everything out to her—the tamest version I can, while also giving her all the little details she begs for in the middle. And by the end of the story, her jaw is practically in the snow.
“What happens now?” she asks, bouncing on her toes with excitement.
“Fuck if I know.” I shrug. “But I think my mom might suspect something already.”
“What? How?”
“I … might’ve followed him into the pantry and kissed him. But he was covered in flour, so I got it all over myself.” My voice rises at the end like I’m asking a question.
Zara’s loud laugh bounces around the field, likely echoing all the way into town. “Please tell me you’re joking.” She holds her stomach as she chuckles, completely ignoring my stern glare. “Did she say something?” she asks, wiping tears from her eyes.
“Not a single word. She could’ve been mad or happy or annoyed, for all I know.”
Zara loops her arm through mine again, and we wander back toward the house. “Can I tell you what I think? As a happily married woman?”
“Okay,” I grumble, biting the inside of my cheek at this role reversal. Normally I’m the one pushing advice on my friends, and here I am hoping someone will offer it to me.
“I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” she says, lifting a brow in my direction. “Hell, I’ve seen the way you look at him. It’s a wonder Auggie hasn’t noticed yet.”
