Page 330 of Seasons of Love
“Yeah, you’re right.” He winks. “Come on, my little elves. Let’s see what else we have in the magical box of treats.”
Once again, I watch in wonder as Curtis helps the kids pick the right accessories to dress up their snowman, and then he picks them up so they can reach the snowman’s head. He’s really good with them. I wonder if he wants to have children one day.
It’s dawning on me that even though we tried so hard to have a baby for such a long time, Mel never took an interest in other people’s children. How can you want to be a parent and not react to children around you? Then again, the foundation of our marriage was a lie, so nothing surprises me anymore.
“Thank you, Harrison,” I say. “Sometimes you can walk your whole life blind to what’s happening around you, can’t you?”
“And sometimes all you have to do is open your eyes and everything you need is right in front of you,” he says.
I let out a breath. “He’s too young.”
Harrison smirks. “Really? That’s the excuse you’re going with?”
“You can’t deny there’s a significant age gap between us. He’s only twenty-six. I’ll be a retired old man when he’s still in his prime. He has so much life. I can’t be the one to hold him back.”
“That might not be your decision to make. Given how he keeps looking this way every few seconds, I’d say he might be more into whatever you have than you think.”
That’s what I’m afraid of. For so long, I didn’t understand why Curtis got to me. Now it’s starting to become clearer, but the air is still too misty, just like in the locker room at the school.
“Look, Daddy!” Megan shouts. “Is this the best snowman ever, or what?”
We all go over to inspect the hard work of the young team.
Curtis sidles up to me as soon as I’m close enough, and I wrap my arm around his shoulder. It feels so good that I pull him closer and kiss his temple.
In true Bubble fashion, the snowman isn’t like other snowmen. The scarf around the neck is pink, of course, and it has Christmas decorations hanging from it. The buttons are black to match the hat, but there’s a sparkly pink stripe around the hat to match the scarf.
The snowman even has a pair of snow boots.
“Is the snowman sparkly?” Fletcher asks.
“Yeah,” Curtis answers. “I used edible glitter, so it’ll all dissolve when the snowman melts.”
“You did a great job,” I say.
“Great? Megan, Gigi, did you hear that? Coach says we did a great job.”
Both kids shake their heads, and I look at Curtis in confusion.
“What did we do?” he asks them.
“We built the most superlicious snowman ever,” they say in synchrony.
I bow to them. “I see how that is a million times better than great. My apologies.”
“Okay, you two,” Harrison says. “Time for you to go back inside and warm up.”
The kids run over to Curtis and hug him, and me by extension. “Thank you for making a snowman with us. Maybe tomorrow we can make Christmas snow angels,” George says.
“I’d love that,” Curtis says.
Some emotion lodges in my throat, and I know I need to take Curtis and go back inside the cabin. I need it to be just the two of us for a while.
Once the kids are out of earshot, I put my hand on his chin so I can look into his beautiful green eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his eyes flicking between mine. I see worry etched in them.
“I need you, Curtis. All of you.”
