Page 44 of Loud Unspoken Memories

A war rages inside me. I love my son. More than anything. But going to him means leaving here. And over the past days, despite everything that’s gone wrong, I’ve found it to be magical. I’ve foundhimto be magical. I glance back at the window to see he’s still standing behind it.

Why is that? Why am I drawn to a man who has shut himself off from the world? One who clearly doesn’t want a relationship. One who deals with a houseguest by not being in the house a lot of the time. One who isn’t interested in the future, only in holding onto the past.

Maybe because he reminds me a little too much of the person I once was.

The door opens. “You call that a snowman?”

“Hey!” I bark. “If you’re not going to help out a girl whose only experience to draw on is building sandcastles, then you don’t get an opinion.”

He’s still for a moment. I can tell he’s thinking about it.Come on, I implore with my mind.

When he shuts the door, my heart sinks. But I don’t let it deter me. I’m going to build this godforsaken snowman if my hands freeze off in the process.

A minute later, however, I have company. Dallas has outfitted himself like he’s ready to go into the Siberian tundra. I chuckle, having never seen him in a scarf, but he’s got one wrapped around his neck and mouth, and tucked into the back of his coat.

He holds a second scarf out to me.

I try to wrap it around my neck as he has his, but it’s a futile effort.

“Jeez,” he pouts. “Do you southerners not know how to doanything?”

“Hey, now, that’s hardly fair. I’d like to see you try and put on a wetsuit and go surfing.”

He throws his head back, laughing.“Yousurf.” He waves a hand up and down my body. “You.”

“Stop it,” I say, batting away his hand. “Anyone can surf. I’ve even started Charlie in lessons. My friend’s dad has a condo in Cocoa Beach. She has a daughter Charlie’s age. We take the kids there one weekend a month.”

He drapes the scarf around my neck, pulls it snug, and wraps it a second time. Our faces are close. Our breath mingles. He stares down into my eyes. “Seems dangerous.”

I momentarily wonder if he’s talking about surfing, or…us.

“It’s not. Believe me, there are plenty of instructors and lifeguards.”

“Can he even swim?”

“Since he was eighteen months.”

His head bobs up and down. “Smart.” He lowers to his knees. “You’re doing it all wrong. You don’t bring the snow to the base of the snowman, you need to roll the snow, picking up more along the way.” He packs the snow tightly and shows me.

It’s not an unwelcome sight watching his backside as he leans over and pushes the ever-growing snowball around the yard until he’s happy with the size. He rolls it back to me. “I’ll make the middle and you make the head.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

I move over near the side of the house to make sure I’m getting fresh snow.

“Marti!”

I look up.

“Don’t go around back.”

I want to tell him I’m a big girl. I know the boundaries. How could I not since he put the logs there yesterday? And since, he’s added even more as if he thinks I’m incapable of getting the point. He doesn’t have to worry. After what I went through, I’m not going near the pond ever again. Yet, there’s a warmth that flows through me knowing he’s trying to keep me safe.

It could be for his benefit more than mine, however. The last thing he needs is another dead person on his hands. I think of poor Abe, sitting frozen in his cabin. What did Dallas feel when he saw him? I probably would have had a panic attack. I’m glad I didn’t go.

“Is this big enough?” I ask, carrying back a… snowman head?

He laughs. “Did you ever see the movie Beetlejuice?”

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