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Annie ripped the hat off her head and flung it at Nick. When that wasn’t a satisfying release of her feelings, she grabbed a handful of snow, sculpted it into a quick ball, and hurled it at Nick’s face, letting out a scream of frustration. She grabbed another fistful when Nick ducked and slipped, grabbing Annie’s jacket as he fell, carrying her down with him.
“Nick!” Annie yelled once the two had landed softly in the snow. Nick laughed. “It’s not funny! I’m still in these fu—no, I need a new word, stilettos!”
“Look! They’re making snow angels!” a young voice called out in glee. “May we please join the fun?” Annie looked up to see a noticeably well-dressed group of children marching closer in a united line of red and green. “Hurry, help me up!” she gasped. “They’re coming for us!”
“We’re not in a horror movie, Annie,” Nick said while giving the kids a friendly wave. Once the group was closer, they each gracefully fell into the soft snow and began moving their arms and legs.
“This really is the best time of year, isn’t it?” one child said and grinned at Nick.
“I’ll carry these memories in my heart forever and cherish them for all of my days,” another child added.
“We’re so fortunate to live in a place that celebrates and honors this special season,” a third child said and smiled.
“Why are they talking like that?” Annie whispered to Nick.
“Like what?” Nick asked.
“Like they’re old people or something. It’s creepy as f—,” Annie said, cutting herself off and clearing her throat. “Okay, clearly I use that word more than any other profanity, I need a workaround … creepy as … truck,” she finished, smug that she hadn’t set off a sound nightmare.
“They’re sweet,” Nick told her, diving back into the snow to make his own angel.
“You’re beautiful,” a little blonde girl said, staring up at Annie.
“Oh, thanks,” Annie said, softening just a little.
“I hope I look just like you when I grow up,” the little child sighed. Annie emitted a nervous huff and gave the girl a small smile.
“You’re beautiful too,” Annie told her truthfully.
“You kind of look like my mom,” the little girl started.
“Really?” Annie asked.
“My dad really misses her,” the girl said simply.
“Where did she go?” Annie asked.
“She died,” the little girl said through now tear-filled eyes.
“Nope, nope, nope!” Annie said, shaking her head. She refused to engage in this one. Even if she wasn’t the holiday movie expert that Nick was, she recognized the popular trope. She wanted nothing more to do with this adorable little girl and her heartbroken father.
“Holly!” a voice called.
“Hi, Daddy!” the little girl yelled. Annie turned to see Chris heading their way with a huge smile.
“I see you’ve met Annie!” Chris grinned.
“You have a child?!” Annie gasped at Chris. “Why didn’t you ever mention that?”
“Annie has come to save the day. She is going to help us with the play!” Chris proclaimed, missing Annie’s complete shock, and Holly hugged Annie’s legs, almost knocking her back to the ground.
“Is it true?” Holly asked Annie. Annie let out a small, choked cough in response.
“She’s going to be in charge of the costumes. Father Christmas was watching out for us. Sending in someone with a big-city fashion background.” Chris smiled warmly at Annie.
“Or maybe it was Mommy,” Holly said to Chris. “She’s always looking down on us,” Holly said softly, and Chris nodded. “This is going to be the best Christmas ever!” Holly cheered after a moment. “Well, the best Christmas since we lost Mommy,” Holly added, suddenly somber again. The yo-yo display of emotion was making Annie incredibly uncomfortable, but Chris, looking toward his daughter, his face now crestfallen, made it almost too much to bear.
“I hate it here,” Annie said into her hands before looking around for Nick and not the guy who had dumped her in a dingy bedroom, who apparently now had both a dead wife and a child.
