Page 43 of Tommy

“Look!” He waved a large plastic mistletoe above his head as he got close to me. “Now you have to kiss me.”

“That’s only real mistletoe,” I said.The second he started to pout, I leaned in and kissed him. “That’s a freebie. You’ll have to get some real stuff if you want to do it again.”

He shrugged. “I don’t even know where this stuff grows. Is it local to the area?”

“It grows on trees,” I told him. “I’ll see if I can find some when I go looking for a tree.”

“Soon?”

“No, I already said you’ll have to wait a couple of days until I can go out and get it,” I said. “You’re gonna have to be patient. Otherwise no tree.”

He gasped. “That’s mean. Oh, I know what will put your in the Christmas spirit!” He jumped around, going back to the box.

“If you say more hot cocoa, I’m gonna have to tap out, I don’t think I can consume anymore chocolate, or whipped cream for that matter,” I said, patting a hand on my stomach.

Tommy came back at me with a red Santa hat lined with fur and tipped with a puff ball. “You should wear this instead.”

I looked at him, slack jawed at the idea. “Sweet lord, I’m a cowboy, I’m not putting that thing on my head,” I said. “This thing is sacred.” I reached a hand on my head and tapped thetop of my hat. “So, don’t be getting any idea of me wearing that thing.”

“What about if you wore it in the house?”

That was a possibility, but I knew I’d look awful silly in it. I didn’t know if my head was molded to just this hat, or my hat was molded to my head. Perhaps a mix of both, and I didn’t want a soft, fluffy Santa hat to make a mess of it. “How about you wear it for now,” I suggested. “Or better yet, save it for the snowman you’re building.”

He smirked. “I already thought of that. There’s another hat on the box. In fact—” he approached the box again and pulled out the second. “You’re not believe this. There’s more of them.” Quite a lot more of them. A stack.

And I knew exactly what they were there for. Several years back, the owners were taking family photos for the holiday season, and they needed about ten of those hats. “Oh lord, you best check them for mites too. You don’t want to be getting too close to them, they’ve been in that box for a while.”

Tommy wasn’t easily deterred. He dusted one off and gave it a little blow before replacing the beanie he had on with the Santa hat. It immediately went over his face and eyes being too big for him. “Oops,” he giggled. “I think I’m going to have to try them all on.”

“Let’s get your box of stuff and take it on down to the house,” I said. “Then I’ll help you build your snowman.”

After the first box, a second was uncovered behind it. He called it a Christmas miracle, and I called it Christmas tat, but it was going straight to the house for decoration.

Tommy started hauling the snowball down to the house, tiring halfway there since it had doubled in size. We switched and he struggled to carry both boxes. So, I took a box, and I carefully moved the ball with just my knees as the guide forward.

“What do you wanna do first?” I asked him.

There was a world of choice in front of him, and I secretly hoped he’d ask to put up some decorations because we’d forgotten the shovels back at the stables, and we needed them if we were going to continue building his snowman into the snow Daddy he was asking for.

“Snowman!” he said, jumping up and down, the Santa hat falling off his head. That was one down, several more to get rid of.

17. TOMMY

This was the first snowman I’d ever made. It wasn’t because I’d never been around snow before. I grew up on the east coast where snow happened, not as much as it did in this specific area, because this was too much snow. I was always more of an indoors person. If I could stay inside and read or draw, I would always take that opportunity. The idea of going outside where I wouldn’t be able read the next chapter of a book had given me anxiety as a kid. And most winter holidays were spent in Florida at my grandparents place, and there was never snow there.

Hardin helped like he was a seasoned professional snowman builder. I knew the basics, but he was packing in the snow at the sides and securing it to the ground so that the balls wouldn’t topple in the middle of the night. And I added a bulge to it as well, making it a snow Daddy, which was only one of the requirements to be my Daddy. The other requirement was to be taller, and the snow Daddy was taller thanks to Hardin.

“You know this isn’t going to go until spring,” he said.

“So, even when I’ve got back home, you’ll still have a memory of me sitting right outside,” I told him. “Ok, finishing touches. We need something for the eyes, something for the nose, and the Santa hat, of course.”

“There are buttons inside,” he said. “They’ll do for the eyes. We can get a branch for the nose and maybe some pebbles for the mouth.”

“Good idea!” I spun on a foot in the snow, almost falling. Hardin took my arm to steady me. I wasn’t going to find pebbles. I could barely see the ground beneath the snow.

“I’ll get buttons for the mouth too,” he said. “Don’t fall in the snow.”

“What if I want to make a snow angel?” I asked. “I’ve never done one of those either.”

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