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“We dug out some craft supplies last night to see what we could make you,” she explains. “Sorry you have to spend the day with us instead of your family.” She squints at me...or, not at me, exactly, but slightly lower and to the side. “You know, maybe I am not that sorry because you’ve got—” she drops her voice down to a whisper “—a bite mark on your neck.”
“Jesus,” I mutter and cover the left side of my neck with my hands.
“She does? Where?” Peter asks, leaning over the table to look.
“Well, I would guess exactly where you bit her, brother.”
I undo my top knot and sweep my hair to one side. My cheeks heat, and I swat at Peter as he leans further to look. “You beast,” I reprimand, but there’s no heat behind it.
Juna saunters away. “I did not need to know this about my brother. Oh, and if the kids see it, you have to explain,” she calls over her shoulder as she leaves the room.
I hear Noah from the TV room. “See what?”
Peter and I look at each other. I melt when I see the warmth and affection in his eyes. My insides go all gooey and lovesick.
Nora joins us at the other end of the table. “Have either of you even noticed?” She gestures to the outside.
It’s glorious out. Their backyard is covered in a beautiful, pristine blanket of snow, and the sky is clear blue and vibrant.
“I’ve already volunteered the family to help shovel sidewalks in the neighborhood. Tom and Liam are already out.”
“We’ll go,” I tell her.
“Not you, it’s Christmas Eve. Peter will go. You and I will bake cookies or read by the fire or whatever coziness you want.”
I glance at Peter, who’s watching me, trying not to smile while he eats his breakfast.
“Or maybe you’d like to be outside. Nice fresh air and all that.”
Under the table, Peter hooks my ankle with his.
“Yeah,” I say, glancing back at Nora. “Fresh air sounds good.”
She throws a hand up and laughs. “Sure. Go enjoy ‘fresh air.’”
Nora lends me her boots and a pair of snow pants. We step outside into the crisp, cold air.
The street is that same pristine white from the backyard, stretching out in either direction. The road curves up to the right and down to the left. Across from us, the ground rises, the rooftops of houses uphill barely visible over the bank of snow.
There are lumps there, too, huddling on the opposite side of the smooth, level road. Cars that no one is bothering to dig out, so they sit like molehills underneath the snow.
Liam has already begun shoveling the side of the road, and I can see the painted stripe that marks the sidewalk versus the street.
To the far right, in the distance, there’s a hill. Most of it is covered in frosted, heavily laden trees, but there’s a big chunk that is a mess of downed trees scattered like toothpicks.
“We’re lucky we didn’t lose power,” I remark, lifting my chin to indicate the trees.
Peter bends over to pick up a shovel out of the snow. “Our power lines are mostly underground. It would take a lot to knock our power out.”
“Oh,” I say, and follow Peter, who’s slung the shovel over his shoulder and walks opposite his dad, down a cleared path. It’s slick, even in my borrowed boots, and twice I have to pinwheel my arms to prevent myself from busting my ass.
We catch up to Tom, wielding a shovel with an older man I don’t know and speaking in Swiss-German and laughing. The house they stand in front of has an actual driveway, unlike Liam and Nora’s house, so Tom is helping shovel out a wider area.
Peter shakes the man’s hand and introduces me, but then they have a brief conversation in Swiss-German before Peter puts his hand on my back and guides us to keep walking downhill. When I nearly slip a few yards away, Peter moves his hand to grip my elbow.
“Mr. Meyer says, on account of it being almost Christmas, that we should not wish for a Christmas miracle but give one a little push.”
At my questioning glance, he clarifies. “We’re going to the town square. This is where the Christmas market is held, and usually, the last day is the 23rd, but because of the storm, it was closed. If everyone chips in to clear the snow and string the lights and assemble the stalls, we just might give you—and the rest of the town—one last night.”
