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“Oh, I don’t think Miss Dianna can come out into the yard, bud. She’s not wearing the right kind of shoes.” Tristan offered Dianna a reassuring smile. He didn’t expect her to catch her death either.
Dianna glanced from Mathew to Tristan. “I saw an old pair of cowboy boots by the front door. I’ll try those on.”
“I don’t think those are for… wearing.”
She was already inside and pulling on a pair of worn, cracked cowboy boots that were probably only there for decoration. When she didn’t return immediately outside, Tristan moved toward the door. But then it shut and Dianna was out, wearing the sitter’s coat. She beamed at Mathew. “See? I’m all ready now.”
Dianna shoveled her way through the quickly growing snowfall and made her own ball with her bare hands. She rolled it until it was an appropriate size and then placed it unceremoniously on the ball Mathew had made.
“Your turn, Dad!”
Both Mathew and Dianna turned toward him expectantly. Already he could tell he wouldn’t be able to get out of this one. If Dianna was willing and able to put on some stranger’s boots, then he could join in on the fun. Memories like these would be the building blocks for Mathew’s childhood.
He threw his hands in the air and laughed. “Oh, alright.” A few minutes turned into a half hour, and three snowmen later, they stood back and admired their work. The snow still continued to dump around them, but no one seemed to care. Mathew hugged Tristan around the legs and he rubbed the top of his son’s head, displacing the snow that had accumulated there.
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m cold. We should go inside.”
Tristan chuckled. “I think you’re right.” They headed inside and the babysitter sat up from where she was looking at her phone on the couch. “Mr. Wood? My parents said the roads are getting pretty bad. They want me to head home if that’s okay.”
“Of course.” Tristan removed his soaking coat. “Thank you for coming.” He pulled out his wallet and paid her, then walked her to the door. After she had safely gotten to her car, he returned inside to find Mathew in a fresh pair of pajamas sitting in front of the fire. Dianna had changed too.
The familiar t-shirt and flannel pajama pants practically drowned her. Tristan couldn’t move from his place as he stared at the scene before him. Dianna and Mathew sat on the floor, reading a copy ofThe Night Before Christmas. Their decorated tree and the flames from the fire were the only sources of light in the room.
Peace.
That’s what this feeling was.
Dianna fit in his life like the missing piece of a puzzle. She was the part of him that he hadn’t realized he’d lost. And it appeared that Mathew could sense it too. He snuggled up in her lap, turning the pages as she read them.
Tristan didn’t dare move closer for fear that the scene before him would disappear like a mirage in the desert.
But his clothes hung heavy and wet on his shoulders, and the fire looked so inviting. He kicked off his shoes as quietly as he could, then slipped past them to his room. Tristan found an additional pair of pajamas and grabbed the crocheted blanket from a rocking chair that sat in the corner.
When he arrived back in the living room, Mathew was still in Dianna’s lap, but this time she was reading to him from that book on horse breeds. His son’s eyes drooped and he climbed out of her lap to lay on the floor, resting his head where he’d just vacated. She ran her fingers through his hair almost absently as she continued to read. “The average height of a Clydesdale will usually exceed eighteen hands. And most will be around six feet in length. It is not uncommon for this breed to weigh more than one ton.” Her eyes flicked up to meet Tristan’s and she smiled before she continued. “The hair around their hooves is called feathering. This trait is believed to have evolved naturally and is one of the strongest in the Clydesdale horse breed.”
Tristan moved quietly behind her and draped the Afghan around her shoulders before he took a seat on the couch. Dianna’s voice was soothing and melodic, and it was easy for him to sit back and just enjoy her narration.
Mathew’s eyes drooped closed and he yawned. Before Dianna finished reading about Clydesdales, Mathew had lost consciousness. Soft snores hummed through his son’s nose. Dianna carefully closed the book and put it aside.
“Thank you,” Tristan whispered.
She glanced at him, still tracing her fingers through Mathew’s hair. “For what?”
“Forthis. For playing in the snow even though you weren’t dressed for it. For being there for him.” It was all so much. Perhaps it wastoomuch. He couldn’t help but feel like he was being ridiculous as his feelings for her continued to grow more serious. “I don’t think we’ve ever had so much fun during a snowfall as we did tonight.”
“I’m sure you’ve made plenty of wonderful memories,” she said quietly. She shifted, taking care to adjust her position without waking Mathew. “I don’t remember much of my mother before she got sick and passed, but I do remember the holidays. She was always willing to do whatever it took to make Christmas special.” Dianna offered him a pained smile. “I don’t think she could ever tell us ‘no.’ Drove my dad completely crazy.”
“I’m so sorry.”
She shook her head. “I was pretty young. Probably close to Mathew’s age, actually. Idomiss her—what I can remember, anyway—but it’s been so long…” She lifted tear-filled eyes. “You ever get the feeling that there’s more out there?” Her face flushed bright red. “I’m a very logical person.” She paused and chuckled. “As you might have noticed. But sometimes…” She got a far-off look in her eyes. “Sometimes I feel like she might be watching me—helping me get through parts of my life that I find more difficult than others.” She sighed, her focus shifting to Mathew. “I don’t know. Maybe that’s crazy.”
“I don’t think it’s crazy at all.” He waited until she looked at him. “I’m of the opinion that there are far too many miracles for therenotto be something bigger out there. I guess that’s why I believe in the Good Lord above. I’d like to think that we’re here for a reason, and one day we’ll be rewarded for our efforts.”
The only sound reaching him was the crackle of the fire behind her. Shadows danced on the walls as the flames flickered. Tristan shifted his focus to his son, then got to his feet. “I’ll put him down and then I can walk you back to the club. I’m sure Shane would be happy to drive you home.”
