“Start rolling, princess.” He motioned for her to get moving. She jumped three times and then went to work. While she rolled, he thought over the shape, content just to be working alongside her. “Make yours longer.” He held up his hands, showing the shape he needed. A rectangle would give him room for ears.
His section, the body, was done. He opted to do an elephant sitting up rather than walking. Lauren placed her piece and motioned for him to carve. “Work your magic.”
He chuckled. If only she knew what magic was at work in their lives. “So, tell me about your life. What do you do?”
She sighed and wrapped her arms around herself. “I have a great job–one that I love. But, to tell you the truth, I’m a little confused about the rest of it.”
“Oh?” He kept his eyes down so she wouldn’t see the hope or the guilt.
“I thought I had it all figured out, but…” she huffed, “life has a way of yanking the rug out from underneath you, doesn’t it?”
He chewed his lip. The elephant’s ear was a little droopy. He packed more snow on and started over. “It does. I felt sucker punched when Dad died. Can I confide in you?” He glanced at her, the sun hitting her hair just right to make it flame gold. He sucked in a breath at the sight.
“What?” she touched her hair, her eyes as wide as if a spider were crawling there.
“Nothing, I just remembered something.” He silently cursed himself for reacting so openly. He may have spent the last five Christmases getting to this tentative friendship, but she was unaware of all that.
Maybe like the Christmas lights, progress toward the Christmas wish wasn’t lost when the clock resets. He had done the lights with her, so that seemed to make sense. If Nick showed up today, he’d ask him.
There was a moment of silence before she said, “You wanted to confide in me?”
He nodded, coming back to that train of thought. Like a Polar Express, she’d knocked him right off the rails. “Mom’s struggling this year. She wants it to feel like Christmas, but without Dad, I’m afraid it’s not possible.”
Lauren rubbed her lips together, drawing his attention to them. “What?” she asked because she’d caught him staring.
“Do you still use peppermint chapstick?” he blurted.
Her eyes brightened. “It’s only the best flavor ever made.” She pulled the tube out of her pocket and applied a fresh coat. How often had he imagined the crisp coolness that would light up his lips if they kissed?
He stood up and surveyed the elephant. “What do you think?”
She walked around it, tapping her chin. The elephant stood half as tall as the snowman. His ears hung low, and one leg was bent at an odd angle. If he had to do it again, he’d be much better. Somehow, he just knew he could do this.
“I think he’s adorable. Let’s call him Rudolf,” she pronounced.
“Rudolf?” he scoffed.
Her eyes sparkled. “It’s the perfect name for a Christmas elephant.”
He lifted a shoulder. “If you say so.”
She sighed happily. “I wish–,” she cut off, pressing her hand over her mouth. “Nevermind,” she said quickly.
Jacob whipped his gaze toward her. “What? What were you going to say?” Maybe if one of them made another wish, they could break out of this eternal Christmas. Not that he’d been too anxious to get out of this morning. Being here with Lauren was like old times but way better.
“I just think that life is harder when you’re not playing in the snow.” She smiled softly.
“Maybe you need to play in the snow more often,” he said suggestively. His forwardness caught him off guard, but he had no intention of taking it back.
Lauren looked him over. “Maybe I will.”
His pulse raced, and he took a step toward her.
The Hall front door opened, and he jumped back at the sound. After all these years, he still knew that squeak.
“Lauren?” Mrs. Hall called.
“I’m over here, Mom,” she replied. “I was helping Jacob with the snow elephant.”
