Page 90 of One Foggy Christmas
He rolls the ball to my feet. “Now we have to get the head on the body.”
“I think you overestimated how big to make this thing.” I look down at the giant snowball and then around at the other pairs building regular-sized snowmen. When finished, ours will be the biggest by far. “Is this even possible?”
“Sure. That’s what the ladder is for.”
Dragging it over in front of our snowman’s body, he shifts it into an A-frame. Slowly, Nash rolls the head up the side of the ladder. The rungs shave parts of the round circle, but overall, it’s mostly an effective method. Once at the top, he lifts the ball on top of the other two giant circles.
A victorious smile paints his mouth, and both hands raise high above his head, pumping up and down like Rocky. He gives a big whoop, still pumping his arms as he glances around the park at the other builders.
I bite my lip, trying to hold in my laughter.
He’s cute.
A man who doesn’t take himself too seriously.
Two feet hit the ground as he hops down from the top of the ladder. “Now we just need to put the stuff on his face. Accessorize him.”
I dig through the bag, holding up three cans of Spaghetti-Os. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with these. You didn’t bring the typical snowman items.”
“These are our buttons.” He grabs one of the cans from my hands, turning it so the metal top is facing forward, then pushes it into the snowman’s body, spinning it round and round until the can tunnels its way into the snow. “They have sentimental value.”
“Spaghetti-Os? Really?”
“Really.”
“Okay.” I reach into the bag, pulling out the classic coal for eyes, ropes of licorice for the mouth, a pipe, a scarf, and a Cubs hat. This one, Nash doesn’t have to tell me. I know enough about our past to know the significance of the Cubs hat. “I’m assuming this is for his head.”
“Yep.”
“Won’t the hat be too small?”
“It'll be perfect.” He moves the ladder away from the snowman and puts it right in front of me. “Climb on my shoulders, and you can do the honors.”
My brows drop in suspicion. “Your shoulders? Why not use the ladder?”
“What would be the fun in that?”
His flirtatious eyes dare me to play along with his game, and there’s no reason for me not to. I need to try and build my connection with him.
“Fine.”
Nash holds the ladder steady as I climb the first few steps until I’m tall enough to swing my leg around him. Once sitting firmly on his shoulders, I lock my legs around his body for support. His hands go to my thighs, holding me to him. That same thrill from when he grabbed my leg in the car dances up my body.
“Do not drop me!” I warn as he slowly walks us toward our masterpiece of snow.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”
I spend the next few minutes placing all the accessories until I’m satisfied.
“He looks good! Our little Cubsman.”
“We’re totally going to win.”
“We probably will. And you’ll have to tell little six-year-old Cindy Lou Who over there that two grown adults took her trophy.”
“Eh, she’ll live.”
Nash slowly bends his knees, giving me a chance to get off his shoulders, but just as my foot touches the ground, he loses his balance, sending us both falling backward into the snow, laughing.
