CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“I got it,” Noah called over his shoulder as he hustled out of his bustling kitchen and down the hallway toward his front door. There was a heated argument about Canadian bacon and omelets happening between families behind him, and after another sleepless night thinking about Catalina King, he was happy to avoid the conflict.
It was a snow day, as predicted. And Merry’s second in a week when another storm rolled through right behind the first. While his daughter had shoved her arms into the air in a victorious V when he told her she could go back to bed, Noah battled the old, familiar sickness that gnawed at his gut.
Snow days for Noah as a kid weren’t a cause for celebration. Staying home, away from his only escape? The reality of not being able to escape to school made him feel scared and sick. Even as an adult, he was surprised that the same emotions could take hold. It gave him joy, fast and heady, to see his daughter growing up without that sick slide of fear. And maybe someday he’d forgive his past and move on.
But for now, he’d hide his discomfort, his bad memories. And he’d be the doting dad, making sure his daughter never had cause for the ice block in her stomach.
He wrenched open the front door, desperate for a snow day distraction.
The snowball hit him squarely in the chest.
Noah stood, blinking down at the snowy impact on his t-shirt.
“You have five minutes to get ready,” Cat announced, hefting another snowball.
Noah wedged the door between them peering around the corner. “Five minutes for what?”
“You and Sara. Warm, preferably waterproof clothes. Five minutes. Go!”
He stared at her, attempting to formulate words. She was wearing a knit hat in cobalt blue that stood out against the honey blonde of her hair. Her parka was zipped to the neck and hid the tattoo that had changed his life on her wrist. Her mittens were thick and matched the hat. She had knee-high snow boots on.
“Come on!” she said, hauling back as if to throw her reserve snowball in his face.
It was better than an omelet fight, Noah decided. “Sara! Find your ski pants!” he yelled and jogged up the stairs.
He left the front door open so Cat could come in if she so desired.
“Sara!” he yelled again, barreling into her room.
“Geez, Dad. It’s a snow day. Can’t a girl get some extra sleep?” she asked, giving him a disgruntled look from under her comforter.
“Cat’s here. She wants us in snow clothes in—”
“Four minutes,” Cat yelled from the foyer.
Sara went from sleepy preteen to energized kid in half a second flat. She threw her comforter on the floor and tore into her room. “Hi, Cat!” she yelled.
“Hi, Sara! Hurry up, Yateses! Get a move on,” Cat bellowed.
Sara giggled hysterically from the depths of her room. Noah dug through his closet until he found his never-worn ski pants, some old snow boots, and a thermal shirt.
He felt like an idiot speed dressing without any idea where Cat was taking them. Knowing her, she probably wanted to film some kind of orchestrated snowball fight. Or she could be driving them into the middle of nowhere to do shots and snowshoe. Wait, scratch that. She wouldn’t ask Sara to do shots.
He fumbled with the laces on his left boot and scanned the room for his winter coat, the one he saved for shoveling snow and fighting off the biting cold at mid-winter ribbon cutting ceremonies.
“Let’s go! Bus is leaving,” Cat called.
“Hurry up, Dad!” Sara grinned as she ran past his doorway, and Noah felt his heart lighten.
He dashed down the stairs after her, still fumbling for his gloves.
They met in the doorway. Cat grinned at him, and Noah felt a warm rush wash through his veins. She looked like an angelic devil, beautiful and up to no good.
She slapped a cafeteria tray to his chest. “Let’s go, Mr. Manager.” She handed another one to Sara.
Sara frowned at it. “Are we eating at a cafeteria?”
“Oh, ye of little imagination,” Cat teased. She led the way off the porch and down the sidewalk. “Follow me, my little snow bunnies.”
--------
The hill in front of the old high school was carved with tracks. There were two dozen kids in snow gear zooming down the fresh white carpet of snow and trudging back up to do it again. Another group, with a mix of parents, was building what looked like a snow fort or igloo. Still others were working on a Calvin and Hobbes-worthy snowman army.
“Voila,” Cat announced, sweeping her arms out to encompass the chaos.
“What is this?” Noah asked in wonder.
“This is how you do a snow day,” Cat insisted. “We’re going tray sledding, and then I assume we’re going to kick the as—uh butts of everyone else on the hill in an epic snowball fight of doom.
“Race you to the top,” Sara squealed and started sprinting for the hill.
Cat laughed. “Come on, Noah. You can’t let her beat you. It’ll give her unrealistic expectations of her own greatness.”
It took him a full second to move his feet. A full second of doubt and delight and everything in between. But the shove he gave Cat that had her falling on her ass in the snow gave him the momentum to follow his daughter’s footprints up the hill.
She almost beat him. But he’d gotten a good grip on her hood and yanked her backwards into the snow.
“In your face,” he called over his shoulder as he ran the last ten feet to the top.
“Dad!” Sara yelped. But it wasn’t anger or adolescent annoyance in her tone. It was sheer delight.
Noah jogged back down and hauled her out of the snow and, still laughing, climbed back to the top. Cat, brushing snow out of her hair, joined them. “Nice move, Yates,” she grinned. “You’re more competitive than I gave you credit for.”
“So, we’re sledding on food trays?” Sara demanded.
“Yep,” Cat said, dropping hers on the sparkling white at her feet. “I found a whole stash of these in the old kitchen,” she told Noah.
Noah planted his in the snow next to hers. “I’m going to sink like a rock,” he predicted.
“Then I guess we’ll beat you to the bottom,” Cat shot back with a wink.
“Yeah! We’re going to annihilate you!” Sara chirped.
Noah rolled his eyes. “You’ve been hanging around April too much, Lady Vocabulary.”
“Psht! Is that the best trash talk you’ve got?” Sara demanded.
“No. But I don’t need trash talk when I can do this!” Noah jumped onto his tray, scooted forward and felt the slip and slide of the tray on the hard crust of snow beneath him. His legs were too long. His heels kept digging into the snow in front of him stopping him short.
He pulled his feet up onto the tray and scooted forward again. It wasn’t the most graceful exit.
“We can’t let him win!” Sara yelled from behind him as he coasted down the hill at a less-than-respectable speed.
“I’ll give you a push,” Cat promised.
Then he heard Sara’s “Wheeeeeeee!” and a pink blur flew by him on his right.
“Geez, Sara, be careful.” he called after her.
Cat appeared on his left. She latched onto his arm, using her momentum to pull him faster toward the bottom.
Sara tipped over off the tray and lay on her back staring up at the cloudless blue sky.
“Sara! Are you okay?” Noah demanded as he and Cat came to a skidding halt next to her. He scrambled off the tray and landed on his knees next to his daughter.
She sat up, grinning, and hit him in the face with a lump of snow. “I win!”
Cat joined in on the fun and scooped a handful of snow down the neck of his jacket.
“No ganging up on me!” Noah yelped.
“Sorry, Mr. Manager. You don’t make the Snow Day rules,” Cat announced cheerfully.
It was self-defense, pure and simple, that had him tackling her to the ground. Sara howled with laughter when Cat came up spitting snow.
She laughed, a sound that went straight to his soul. Sitting there, her perfect ass in eight inches of snow that sparkled like diamonds under a blue-skied sunny day. And Noah felt his heart take a hit. A hard one.
He didn’t have time to dwell on it, though. Cat King was not one to back down from a challenge. She launched herself at him, and together they rolled the last few feet to the bottom of the hill. Kids laughed and yelled around them. The snow was blindingly brilliant and icy beneath them. But Noah had eyes only for Cat. Those mischievous hazel eyes, the gray and the green, sparkled with fun. Her lips were spread wide in a genuine grin, reserved for real life only.
He felt like a king, a god, a hero for making her smile like that.
“Dad!” Sara called. “Let’s do that again!”
“You heard the boss,” Noah said, tickling Cat through her winter layers. “Let’s do that again.”
“There are a couple of things I wouldn’t mind doing again with you,” Cat whispered.
Noah felt his temperature rise high enough to melt the snow beneath them.
“There might be a few things I wouldn’t mind experiencing for the first time with you,” he admitted breathlessly.
“Hmm,” Cat said.
The snow ball hit Cat in the face and dripped onto Noah’s.
“Hey!” Cat shouted, but Sara was running in the opposite direction laughing like a loon.
Cat jumped to her feet and dragged Noah up. “Pardon me, I have to murder your daughter.”
He watched the woman who saved his life chase then tackle the girl who grew his heart.
“Happy Snow Day, Noah!” Paige, balancing a pink bundle on her hip, waved cheerily. Gannon, in sweat pants and a ski jacket made faces at the baby in his wife’s arms.
“Happy Snow Day,” Noah answered, tromping down to meet them.
“I see my sister is asserting her dominance over the youth of Merry,” Gannon said dryly, jutting his chin in Cat’s direction.
Noah watched her push Sara face down in the snow and then fire a warning snowball at a group of pre-teen boys that had declared war.
“The kids seem to like her,” Noah observed.
“That’s because she is one,” Gannon said dryly. “They recognize her as one of their own, don’t they Gabby Girl?” Gannon grabbed the baby out of Paige’s arms and tossed her into the air.
The delighted squeal made them all laugh.
“Good lord, Gannon. Please don’t drop her,” Paige said, shaking her head.
“I’ll never let her fall,” Gannon promised. And Noah knew exactly what the man meant. There was something about being a father that had opened doors in his heart that he didn’t even know existed. And sometimes, when he couldn’t sleep, he wondered just why those same doors didn’t open for his own father.
“No work today?” Noah asked Paige. The TV crew seemed to be working 24/7 since arriving in town.
Paige shook her head. “Snow messed with our shooting plans. The trades are all doing the stuff that no one likes to see on TV. We’ve got a few cameras out shooting B-roll. But we get the day off. And we’re going to enjoy it since we probably won’t have another one on this shoot.”
“Well, welcome to Merry’s Snow Day,” Noah said, waving his arm at the growing crowd on the hill. Parents with toboggans and kids with disc saucers zoomed down the hill in a delighted cacophony of laughter and screams.
The igloo fort was almost done, and the stock pile of snowballs was being distributed to key points on the hill.
“Looks like Merry knows how to celebrate,” Paige grinned. “Do you mind if I have a camera come over and shoot some of this?”
“Did Cat orchestrate this just so you could film it?” He guessed it wasn’t that bad if everyone was having so much fun. And how many of them would really mind being on TV? But still, it lost a bit of the magic thinking that it was orchestrated to look good on TV.
“Huh?” Paige asked, watching Gannon help Gabby wade through the snow. “Oh, no. She just called and said she had a new use for cafeteria trays, and here we are. But, you’ve got to admit, this is a pretty spectacular example of Merry’s holiday fun.”
He heard the jingle then.
“Oh my God. What is that?” Paige asked, her blue eyes lighting up under the red of her wool cap.
“That, my poor deprived director, is a gourmet hot chocolate truck,” Noah announced. “Want some?”
“More than I’ve ever wanted anything from a truck in my entire life!”
Noah led the way to Elva Janerly’s renovated ice cream truck. The smells of chocolate, vanilla, and melted marshmallow wafted out of the truck’s open window.
Kids clamored for their place in line.
Cat sidled up next to Noah, her cheeks flushed from the cold and snow.
“Is this the famous hot chocolate I’ve been hearing about for weeks now?”
“It is indeed,” Noah announced. “Elva must have gotten the truck back from the garage.”
Cat craned her neck to peer past the dozen kids in line in front of them. “Ugh. This is going to take forever.” She cupped her hands over her mouth. “Hey, guys! Snowman making contest happening right now at the bottom of the hill. Winner gets a free hot chocolate!”
Like magic, the kids whooped and dashed out of line in a mad rush to create an award-winning snow man.
“Nice work, Cat,” Paige praised.
Cat stepped up to the window. “Elva, I’d like to buy these snow monsters a drink.”
Elva, a stern-looking woman in her late fifties leaned through the window conspiratorially. A stout New Englander, she was most often frowning and squinting at the sun than smiling. But the woman had the best hot chocolate recipes on the East Coast. She made a fortune every Christmas Festival and had magazines and food bloggers begging for her recipes.
“Would you be wanting the regular hot chocolate or the special hot chocolate?” she asked, producing two metal flasks from beneath the counter.
Cat looked at Noah and grinned. Noah bit back his instinctive reply. Of course, Elva was breaking who knew how many regulations by not having a liquor license. But was it really a battle he felt he needed to win today?
“What the hell,” Noah shrugged. “It’s a Snow Day. We’ll take the special. Just make sure none of the kids get one.”
Elva tossed off a salute. “You got it, boss.”
Gannon joined them with Gabby riding on his shoulders. The little girl yanked his cap off his head and threw it in the snow, giggling at her own joke.
“Give me that beautiful little girl,” Cat demanded, reaching up to pluck the baby off Gannon’s shoulders. “Who’s the best niece in the whole universe?” Cat asked, nuzzling Gabby’s chubby cheek.
The little girl grabbed a fistful of Cat’s braided hair.
“Ouch!”
Gabby laughed and pulled again. Cat freed her hair from those tiny fingers and held the little girl over her head. She brought her down to give her a noisy kiss on the cheek before holding her aloft again.
Gabby squealed with delight.
Gannon slung his arm over Paige’s shoulders and snatched the phone out of her hand. “Work can wait for an hour,” he reminded her, tucking the phone into his jacket pocket. Paige frowned up at him, but let her husband kiss away her annoyance.
“Drinks up,” Elva announced.
Cat turned to Noah. “Here. Take this,” she ordered, depositing the baby in his arms.
Noah looked down into the blue, blue eyes of Ms. Gabby King. She frowned up at him, assessing his worthiness to hold her. He crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue, and she grudgingly gave a tiny baby chuckle.
He did it again, this time throwing in a pair of duck lips for kicks. Gabby squealed and made a grab for his face. He avoided her tiny talon-like fingers and jostled her higher up his chest. She laughed the baby belly laugh that had melted him hearing it from Sara for the first time.
Had he held a baby since his own? He’d felt both powerful and powerless staring down at the tiny creature he’d help make and who had enslaved his heart simply by existing.
Gabby leaned in, resting her forehead against his. He could feel her breath on his face. She stared him down. Blue eyes wide. Finally, she squished his cheeks between her chubby little hands and laughed at some inside joke that he would never understand.