Chapter 23: : Chapter 22

“I can’t believe you actually did this.” Dane scours our parents’ yards in awe as the machine-made snow piles up around us. He scrubs a hand through his poufy curls then stuffs a hat on his head. “Those kids are going to flip out.”

“It was your sister who gave me the idea without even knowing. Sammi asked if I thought we could rent a cabin in the mountains next year when your dad would hopefully be able to travel again. She was really excited at the idea of giving the family a white Christmas.” I can’t help but grin at how awesomely it’s turning out. “I figured…why wait?”

“That’s my boy.” Dad wraps a hand around my shoulders, staring out at his lawn that’s quickly being transformed into a winter wonderland. “Spoilin’ that girl right.”

“I learned from the best, Pops.” That man would go to the ends of the earth to make my mother happy. I can only hope to be a fraction of the husband and father he is.

It’s an unusually cold day here in Los Angeles, at under forty degrees, so the snow is having no issue sticking to the trees and the ground. The guys from the snow company are currently stacking hay bales to build a hill for sledding. Frank should be back from the sporting goods store any minute with sleds, gloves, and boots for the masses. I can’t wait to see the look on my wife’s face when she gets here. My pulse is racing a mile a minute.

“Have any of you heard from the ladies?” I glance from Dane to each of our fathers. “Any clue what time they’ll be back?”

“Just talked to Trudy. She said they had one more stop to make at the bakery for some pastry Sammi’s been craving, then they’ll be on their way home—not because they’re tired or anything.” He chuckles. “But because the stores all close at six on Christmas Eve.”

Those women could make an Olympic sport of shopping.

“You didn’t spoil the surprise, did ya, Wayne?” My father gives his best friend a knowing glare.

“Of course not…” Sammi’s dad rolls his eyes then huffs and hangs his head. “Shit. You got me, Ronnie. You know I can’t keep anything from her. She could tell in my voice that we were up to something.”

My dad shakes his head with mock disgust. “So whipped.”

“Cut it out, kids.” Dane grabs two of the snowballs he’s been molding and nails each of them in the chest. “You two bicker more than an old married couple.”

“Mrs. Trudy won’t spoil the surprise and now we’ll have a heads up when they’re on their way. It’s fine.” I hand the snowball mold over to my dad. “Get busy while me and Dane work on forming up some snow bricks.”

“What’re the bricks for?” Mr. Wayne trails behind me, probably trying to avoid getting chewed out by my father again.

“Gonna build some walls we can hide behind during the snowball fight.”

“This is genius.” He rubs his hands over his arms trying to ward off a chill. “You know, I always wanted to give the kids a white Christmas. We talked about it every year, but I never could peel myself away from work long enough to do it.” His lips purse in contemplation. “Nothing like facing your own mortality to make you realize all the shit you took for granted.”

I fire off a quick text to Dane to bring his dad a heavier coat and a chair, so my wife doesn’t kick my ass when she arrives to find her father’s teeth chattering.

“You were dedicated to your clients.” I pack some more snow in and smooth it over before plopping another brick to my growing wall. “You and Pops are two of the best damn lawyers this county has to offer. That work ethic gave us kids a great life.”

“Maybe…” He nods. “All I know is I’m gonna do things different with this second chance. Once I’m through kickin’ this cancer’s ass, I’m gonna travel the world with my wife.”

“Yeah?” Dane pops up behind him with a folding chair, his coat, scarf, and a blanket. “You won’t be kicking shit if you come down with pneumonia.”

I smother a laugh while the two bicker over him bundling up. There was a time not too long ago when Dane wouldn’t have dreamed of ordering his dad around.

“Do it for me, Mr. Wayne. Your daughter will rip me a new one if she gets here and her daddy isn’t being tutted over like a newborn baby.”

“Fine.” Grumbling, he plops down into the chair and even props his feet up out of the snow, onto the log Dane drags over. “Don’t know what the hell happened to respecting your elders.”

“That flew right out the window when you turned into the most ornery, stubborn patient known to man.” His son gives him a stern look. “Cause any more trouble and you’ll be watching from the windows.” With that, he takes off to resume erecting his wall across the yard.

“Ever since that boy took over my spot at Deluca & Livingston, he’s been acting a little too big for his britches.”

“He’s a chip off the old block.” I give my father-in-law a sideways glance while starting on another brick. Frank better hurry with those supplies. It’s so fucking cold, I can hardly feel my fingers anymore. Gardening gloves don’t offer much protection against the blistering cold, but unfortunately that’s all we could find.

Mr. Wayne’s answering smirk snuffs out his natural inclination to argue because he knows I’m right. Dane is the spitting image of his father at our age, in looks as well as mannerisms. They’re both incredibly strong in stature and gumption. It’s their unwillingness to yield that makes them a force to be reckoned with in the courtroom.

“Where you want this stuff, boss?” As if I conjured him, my right-hand man comes around from the front, arms loaded with gear.

“Sleds near the hill. Just drop the other stuff right there on the patio.”

He gives me a salute. “You got it.”

“Thanks, man. You’re the best!”

“They just turned into the subdivision.” Wayne’s still texting with his wife when he makes the announcement.

“Let’s get you on the patio where you’ll have a good view of the kids’ faces.” I make it about the kids to pacify my father-in-law, who positively adores my niece and nephew. But I really just want to get him out of the snow.

No more than a few seconds after we have him situated, the kids come blazing into the back.

“What the?” Annabelle freezes just outside the blanket of snow. “It snowed here?”

“I telled you it was gonna snow at Christmas.” Carter pokes his tongue out at his big sister. “I asked Santa when I sitted in his lap.”

“Merry Christmas!” I shout when Sammi and her mother, and my mom, and sister, and grandmother come traipsing into the yard, mouths agape.

“Can we go play, Uncle Lyle?”

“Sure, you can, buddy.” I scoop Carter up into my arms. “After you change into your snow boots and gloves.”

His lower lip pokes out. “But I don’t have any.”

“You do now!” Frank waves him over to where he’s already ripping tags off their gear. “Come on, Carter boy. Let’s get you suited up.”

He practically jumps out of my arms in his excitement to go meet his pseudo uncle. Frank’s been around so long, he’s practically family. The kids adore him.

“Lyle, this is incredible.” My sister walks over and gives me a big hug. “Thanks so much for doing this.”

“You’re welcome, sis.”

She can’t stop smiling. “I’m gonna go help Frank.”

Sammi gives her a strange look. “I bet you’ll go help Frank.”

“What was that all about?” I ask, pulling my wife into my arms while my sister storms off with her middle finger extended into the air.

“Nothing.” She shakes her head, rising to her toes and bringing her pouty mouth within a breath from mine. “This is so magical.”

“Good surprise?” I ask, pressing my lips to hers.

She kisses me back, gently gliding the tip of her tongue across my lips. “The best.”

We’re still wrapped in each other’s arms when the snow fall machines come on, taking the ambiance to the next level.

Li’l Bit smiles into my kiss, heating me from the inside. “How did it have enough time to pile up like this?” She sticks her hand out, catching the flakes as they fall. “We weren’t gone long.”

I push her hair behind her ears, forcibly restraining myself from feasting on her mouth the way I’d like, which would be entirely indecent in front of our current company. “They used big fireman style hoses to blow it all over the yard. Didn’t really take long at all.”

“I’m sorry we missed it. I bet Carter would have—”

“Oh, Uncle Lyle…”

I release my wife and turn toward my nephew just in time to get nailed right in the nose with a snowball.

“It’s on, little man!” I make a freeform ball from the snow at my feet and take off after the little sneak, clobbering him in the back.

“I wanna play!” Annabelle rushes over with Lizzie, both wearing matching hot pink gloves and boots.

“If you start crying,” her mother warns, “you’re going inside.”

The little sassafras plants a hand on her hip, rolling her eyes. “I’m not gonna cry, mom. I’m not a baby.”

As if trying to prove a point, Carter nails her in the face with a blob of snow.

“Hey,” I say, when his sister’s face crumples and she bursts into tears. “Not in the face.”

“Yes, sir.” He pouts, his little lip quivering as if he too is about to spring a leak.

“Unless it’s Uncle Dane,” I add, handing him another snowball. “Go get him.” I give him a little shove toward his next target, relieved that the threat of tears has passed.

I wonder briefly if my wife realizes she’s going to have to be the disciplinarian…

“What did I just say about that crying?” My sister starts to reprimand her daughter when Sammi returns from retrieving her gloves, smashing her right between the eyes.

Liz shrieks, cussing up a storm as she scoops the ice away.

“Mmmhmmm,” my wife heckles. “Didn’t like that too much, did ya?”

My niece’s tears quickly dry, replaced with a fit of laughter.

“Point taken, asshole!” Lizzy glares at my wife while clearly trying not to laugh. “You’re lucky you’re pregnant.”

My wife holds out a hand for Annabelle to give her a high five.

“Y’all’s kid is going to be such a menace!” My sister shakes her head at her best friend and daughter.

Sammi shrugs. “Then she’ll fit right in with her mommy and daddy.”

“He,” I insert. “He’ll fit right in.”

She doesn’t pay my comment a lick of attention, but the way she’s intentionally avoiding looking at me has me certain she heard it.

“Who wants some hot chocolate?” Gramma Joyce comes out of the house with a tray full of foam cups with lids and starts passing them out to everyone, including the snow people. My little Cajun granny’s roots run deep. That woman is forever playing hostess. She makes it her mission in life to see to everyone else’s comfort, usually in the form of food or drink.

The adults gather around the firepit, sipping on chocolate while the children who seem to have swallowed theirs in one gulp make castles in the snow with their sand toys.

Mr. Wayne starts blasting Christmas music through his surround sound. It’s all so cozy, I almost forget we’re in sunny California.

Once we’ve sufficiently warmed our bellies, we hit the slope with the sleds. The hill is maybe six feet high, but steep enough to give a thrilling stomach drop. The kids are loving it and don’t want to do anything else. They aren’t fighting, and no one is crying, so we let them have at it.

I hang back with my wife while the rest of the adults engage in an all-out war with the mounds of snowballs we spent a good portion of the day preparing.

“Your chariot awaits, milady.” I drag a huge toboggan out from behind a cover of trees and urge Sammi to have a seat.

Her icy blue eyes sparkle with excitement. “Oh, my goodness. It looks like a miniature version of Santa’s sleigh!”

She’s right; I hadn’t realized it, but it does. The sled is wood with red trim and has red velvet cushions. The rope is red leather with bells that jingle in the wind. Frank’s getting a bonus for this beaut.

I press my lips to her forehead and adjust her knit hat before taking her hand and helping her on.

Once she’s situated, I grab the reins and give a good heave-ho, only to have the sled barely move. “They sure make this shit look easier on TV,” I mutter.

“I’m too heavy,” she wails.

“You are not. Sit back down, woman.” I loop the rope around my midsection and pull like a pack mule. Slow and steady, we start making some progress. After about five minutes, I’m winded and losing steam, but the radiant smile on her face keeps me trudging along.

I proceed to walk backward for a bit so I can indulge myself in the view. My Li’l Bit’s so beautiful, with her red-tipped nose and the wind whipping through her hair. Her dimples and those rosy cheeks, and the snowflakes resting lightly on her lashes make her resemble an ice princess. It’s like something straight out of a dream.

Then Annabelle and Carter crash the scene deciding they too need a turn on Santa’s sleigh. The two climb aboard in front of Sammi. With their added weight, I’m really in trouble. There’s no way I’m going to kill the magic of their first ever snow day. So, I spin back around and put every bit of my strength into it, feeling superhuman when I finally get the sled to dislodge.

“Woah!”

At the sound of my wife’s distress, I whip around to find her and the kids toppling over to one side. Trying not to laugh, I right their ship. “The terrain is just too flat, but I have an idea.”

“You’re scaring me.”

“Just stay put.” I leave her there and head off to the garage where just as I expected, the key is still sitting in the ignition of the riding mower.

You’d swear these kids were on a rollercoaster with the way they’re carrying on. Their peals of laughter and screams of delight are a sound I won’t soon forget.

I drive them around the yard until just after the sun sets, while Dane, Liz, Frank, and my mom engage in a game of beer pong on the patio with spiked eggnog.

Somehow our white Christmas has managed to veer a little into redneck territory, but what more do you expect from a bunch of Louisiana transplants?