Page 14 of Sleigh Bells and Snowstorms
I turned to find a small child wearing a purple shirt and chunky snow boots. Her nose and cheeks were pink from the cold, and she looked up at me with big brown eyes.
“Jensen Lakes. Who are you?”
“Annabel Thatcher.”
I’d never been quite sure what to make of children. They puzzled me. Obviously, I’d been one, but I had few memories of that. I’d only recently discovered I could develop affection for a small child after my sister had one of her own. My niece, Raina, was the cutest, most lovable baby who ever existed. But all other children seemed like loud, undersized humans who mostly got in the way.
“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Annabel.”
“You talk funny.”
“Do I?”
“That’s okay. I do, too, sometimes. I lost a tooth.” She opened her mouth wide and pointed at a gap.
“I see that. Do you expect a new one will grow in?”
She giggled. “Yeah, a grown-up tooth.”
“That’s good.”
“Are you a bad guy?”
“I suppose that depends on who you ask.”
“You kind of look like a bad guy.”
“Hmm.” I rubbed my chin. “Well, I don’t plan on doing anything bad while I’m here. Does that help?”
“Yeah. And I probably shouldn’t talk to you because you’re stranger danger. But Mommy said we have a guest in the apartment, so does that count?”
“You’re asking if I’m stranger danger?”
She nodded.
It was one of the oddest conversations I’d ever had. But the little girl was so straightforward. I liked her honesty.
“We just met, so I’m a stranger in that sense,” I said. “But I’m not a danger to you.”
“Good. Do you want to have a snowball fight?”
I opened my mouth to tell her perhaps another time when the side door to the house opened, and a young woman poked her head out.
“Annabel, don’t bother him.”
“I’m not bothering him, Mommy. I’m talking.”
“Sorry.” She stepped out onto the porch and hugged her arms around herself against the cold. “I promise she won’t bug you. She knows she’s not allowed over there. She just plays out here in the yard sometimes.”
The corner of my mouth lifted. “Don’t worry, love. She’s not a bother.”
The woman bit her lip and giggled softly. She was pretty—beautiful, even—with thick, dark hair and expressive brown eyes.
“Um… okay… good.” Looking me up and down, she bit her lip again. “Do you need anything?”
“I don’t think so, no.”
“Are you sure?” She fiddled with a lock of her hair. “Because if you do, I can bring it right up. It’s no problem.”
