Page 44 of Terms and Traditions

“I can’t presume to tell you what to do,” I said thoughtfully, watching as Stephanie helped Ava pack snow into the snow shield. “But I do know that from what Steph’s mentioned, there’s no way you’re anything like Hiram.”

Gabe barked a laugh, then shot a glance in Zara’s direction, but she was preoccupied with chatting with Hailey. “That bar is stupidly low. Hiram Addams is a lot of things, but a present, attentive father was never one of them.”

I nodded. “I know what it's like to grow up without a dad, and from what I can tell, you’re a great one.” I clapped his shoulder, then tossed another scoop of snow.

He didn’t say anything, but he didn't have to.

“Time!” Hailey hollered from the porch. “Gather your ammunition in three… two… one… go!”

Gabe and I joined the fray of creating an ammo pile. The snow was the perfect consistency for packing into tight snowballs.

Ryder produced a handheld snowball maker with a grin. “No one said they were against the rules.” He high-fived his dad and started squeezing out snowballs like there was no tomorrow.

“Who usually wins these things?” I asked, adding another ball to the pile. After my smack talk with Stephanie earlier, I realized this might have been helpful information to have had. And Stephanie wasn’t too far off the mark with her comment about Emmett’s girls taking pity on me.

Jackson snorted with all the derision a ten-year-old could manage. “The girls for two Christmases straight, but we’re gonna get them this year. We got a secret weapon.”

“Oh?”

He flashed a buck toothed grin at me. “You, Mister Nash. Auntie Steph is the best thrower they got. You just gotta get her twitterpated and then we got this thing in the bag.”

Oh, the confidence of childhood. And the conniving. This youth with barely a decade of life behind him made me part of the war strategy to seduce the rival team’s best thrower to win the game. This kid was going places. But what did I expect given his family? I imagined someone would come away maimed if they ever tried Dutch Blitz. I made a mental note to never mention the idea to Stephanie. It had been bad enough when I’d broken a finger in college playing a round with Kelsi and Ryan. My first and only broken bone. Never again.

“And what makes you think I can get her twitterpated?” I asked, raising a solemn eyebrow.

Jackson scoffed. “Because she looks at you like Nala looked at Simba, and she goes red.”

Only because Emmett’s youngest daughter was a Lion King lover did I understand that reference. But I nodded solemnly and saluted him. “Aye, aye, Captain. I’ll take one for the team.”

Jackson held out his hand, and I shook it. “I’ve got your back,” he promised.

“Dad, you’re the best long arm,” Ryder said, giving orders. “Uncle Austin, you’re in charge of keeping the snowballer going.” He handed the machine off to his mustached chef uncle. “Everyone else, spread out and stay low. Auntie Steph is Mister Nash’s target, and Jackson will be his backup. We clear?”

“Sir, yes, sir!”

“Time!” Hailey screamed from the porch, standing and perching Eden on her hip. “Ladies and gentlemen, friends and enemies, let the 5th Annual Addams Family Snowball War begin…” She paused and glanced at Zara. “Would you do the honours?”

Zara’s face, perfectly intact with makeup this morning, beamed. “NOW!”

I locked eyes on my target and moved into raid position. Jackson hovered in my shadow, awaiting my move. The kid had a lot more faith in my twitterpating abilities than I did.

Ivy flung a ball in my direction, and I dodged left. It went long, and Jackson grunted behind me. The girls’ team cheered. Guess I was on my own.

“Hey, Steph!” I called out, sidestepping another missile. “Looking good!”

She paused, mid-throw and glanced at me. “You sweet talkin’ me?”

Her attempt at a Texas drawl warmed my chest. Man, she was adorable, bundled up like a snowman in her white parka and burgundy pom-pom knit hat.

“Is it working?” I prowled closer, tossing a missile towards Ava. It splattered on her knee. Score. I get she was only seven, but I was taking every win I could manage here.

Stephanie arched her ball at me. I ducked, but the wind rustled past my ear. The guys weren’t kidding. She was fast and accurate.

“And you thought I needed good luck?” She sniffed, a smile tugging at her lips as she flung another snowball, nailing Gabe. She whooped.

I edged closer. “Well, I kissed you, so I assume that helped your performance.” I heard a childish snort crossed with a gag behind me. Oh look, I had my shadow back. “This was your idea, Peter Pan,” I hissed over my shoulder, and Jackson laughed again.

Stephanie dropped the ball she’d scooped up, slack-jawed. “I… you… what?”