Page 4 of When the Snowman Whispered
Regardless of my thoughts on where her true magic came from, Mom’s conjuring helped us financially survive. We never had to beg, borrow, or steal. Mom kept clean clothes on our bodies and good shoes on our feet. No matter how late she stayed up at night, writing down spells and dream workings in her grimoire, she’d jump back up in the morning, fix an amazing breakfast, walk me to school, say hello to all my teachers, and be on time to pick us up in the afternoon.
Her conjuring had paid my tuition for art school. When my ex and I split, Mom gave me the money to go back and work on my graduate degree in art history.
So, whether I believed in her hoodoo or not, I had a great respect for it, so much so, I wore the silly bag on my neck and touched it constantly.
More than I was comfortable with, in fact.
This morning, I woke up, gripping that bag and mumbling about love. Sweat covered my face. Heat swelled in my chest. Between my legs a hunger so strong pulsed inside of me.
I really need to get laid.
“Mommy?” Rose brought me back to reality.
“Yes, sweetie?”
“What else are we going to do with the snowman?”
“You mean Remy?” I picked up the torch next to me.
“Yes.”
“Well, we’re going to heat things up.” I turned on the torch.
Buzzing sounded.
Rose shrieked, “Don’t melt the snowman!”
I slipped the flame along his broad shoulders. “I won’t.”
Fire danced along solid ice—gold yellow twirling around a melting blueish white. Heat battled the cold. Both would win, as the elements mingled and merged into a slick surface of art that even diamonds would envy.
“See, Rose.” I shut off the torch. “The fire liquefies the outer layers and gives the ice a clean look. Okay?”
She said nothing. I turned around. Rose no longer stood behind me. Just like Meadow, she’d disappeared.
“Rose?” I set the torch down. “Meadow?”
The deep voice whispered, “Watch out.”
I saw no one around me. “What?”
The voice came again. “Watch out.”
A snowball crashed into the back of my head. Cold stung my skin. Off in the distance, my daughters chuckled.
Did someone say something to me or am I imagining this? I have to call Mom.
Another snowball slammed into my arm. Stumbling back, I hid my unease and decided to get revenge on the snow attackers. “It’s on, ladies! You couldn’t wait until I finished?”
Giggling shifted into silence.
Where are those two?
“Alright my Winter Rose and Icy Meadow. It’s on!” Smoke left my lips. “You better hide!”
One of them laughed.
The other shushed her.
