Page 38 of Awakening the Sheriff

“No, why?”

“Why don’t you come hang out? My girls will be home, but they won’t bother us if we’re in the basement. Feel free to bring your kids.”

“Are you sure?”

Again that insecurity, as if he was still scared I didn’t mean the invite. “Would love to have you. You can even come for dinner.”

“I can’t do dinner because I promised Milton we’d have a breakfast dinner. Pancakes and waffles for dinner,” Keaton said when I shot him a quizzical look. “It’s our thing. But afterward, I’d love to come by.”

“Perfect. We can build some more LEGOs together and talk.”

“Attention, everyone!” a voice boomed over the sports fields. “The annual snowball fight is about to begin! Students versus teachers. Gather at the designated battlefield!”

“Let’s go!” Violet and Dani chimed in unison, their eyes sparkling with excitement as they ran off, Milton on their heels.

“Lord have mercy,” Keaton murmured, crossing himself, which made me laugh.

“You’ll be fine, I promise.”

We made our way to the battlefield, where a snow fort had been erected for each team. The rules were simple: each team had five minutes to build up their arsenal of snowballs and devise a strategy, and then the battle would commence. The first team to capture the other’s flag would be declared the winner. Parents, friends, and families had already gathered, and students and teachers were still showing up to join their teams.

I walked over to the microphone and speaker that had been set up. “All right, everyone, welcome to the annual student-teacher snowball fight!”

A loud cheer erupted from the crowd.

“As always, I will be the referee.” I faced the group of students. “What’s the first rule of the snowball fight?”

“The referee is always right!” they shouted, and I gave a thumbs-up.

“Perfect. And what’s the second rule?”

“No snowballs to the face!”

“Are we gonna have a fair and fun fight?”

“Yes, Sheriff!”

I turned toward the teachers. “Are you gonna beat those kids?”

“Yes, Sheriff!”

I grinned as I lifted my whistle. “Let the snowball fight begin!”

I blew my whistle, signaling the start of the game. The flurry of activity was intense as both teams feverishly crafted their snowballs, piling them high within their respective forts. The students worked together seamlessly, rapidly forming their icy ammunition. To my surprise, Byron had shown up and was participating. On the other side, Keaton and his fellow teachers built their arsenal of snowballs.

When five minutes had passed, I blew my whistle once more. “Time’s up!”

Snowballs flew through the air as both teams launched their attacks.

I watched with amusement as the students and teachers engaged in a fierce yet good-natured battle. Violet and Dani darted between the chaos, their laughter ringing as they ducked and dodged the onslaught of snowballs. Some of the boys proved they’d been rightly selected for the baseball team, their aim true as they picked off one teacher after another.

And there was Keaton, dashing, glasses askew, lobbing snowballs that hit nothing but air and ground. He had the aim of a toddler, but he was having fun, smiling broadly and whooping whenever someone else’s snowball hit a student. He was like a kid again, lost in the joy of the moment.

“Capture the flag!” Violet shouted, seizing the opportunity as the last teacher was incapacitated by a well-aimed snowball. She sprinted to the teachers’ fort, snatched the flag, and raced back to her teammates, who erupted into cheers for their hard-won victory.

I raised my whistle to my lips one final time. “Students win!” I announced, filled with pride for my daughter.

“Good game,” Keaton panted when he returned. The cold and the exertion had brought a rosy hue to his cheeks, making him look more alive than I’d ever seen him. His grin stretched from ear to ear, and his eyes were twinkling. He was clearly pleased with the exhilaration of the battle. “That was more fun than I had expected.”

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