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The sled veers off course, hurtling toward what appears to be a giant snowman that stands proudly at the end of a driveway.
Before I can speak, we crash into it in spectacular fashion.
Snow flails in all directions, and we tumble off the sled. My heart stops for a moment when I’m airborne, but I land softly in a pile of snow, and soon find myself laughing amidst the chaos.
Beside me Rhia is shaking with her giggles.
“Oh my god, that was insane! Are you okay, El?” Rhia asked, trying to draw in breaths in between her bursts of laughter. “Tiero is going to kill me if anything happens to you or this baby.”
Turning onto my back in the powdery mass, I wipe at my eyes, my laughter still bringing forth tears.
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
Thankfully, the dogs have stopped and are turning their heads at us as if to say, “Come on. What’s keeping you?”
Our joviality is short-lived as the homeowner rushes over. He’s bundled up like an arctic explorer, only his eyes are visible, the rest of his face covered with a large beanie and a scarf wrapped tightly around his throat and mouth.
He pulls the beanie lower as he yells, “What the heck do you think you’re doing? It took my kids weeks to build that snowman! They’ll be devastated! Which one of you is responsible for this?”
Rhia, undeterred and with a snowflake dangling from her nose, stands up and steadies herself. She takes in a deep breath as if readying herself for battle.
With her hands on her hips, she quips, “Which one of us is responsible? Who in their right mind would build a giant snowman in a public thoroughfare. You should have considered the potential for some serious accidents! I hope for your sake you’re insured.
“Next time, put up a warning sign or something! It’s not our fault that snowman stood in the middle of our expressway. We happen to be on a very important mission, and God help you if you turn out to be responsible for my friend missing—”
“Expressway?” The man fumes, his breath visible in the cold air. “This is a residential street!”
She crosses her arms defiantly, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
“Well, sir, you may not have noticed, but there has been a blizzard, and your snow monster has completely blocked the only navigable path. You should’ve thought about that before construction began.”
His mouth gapes open, clearly lost for words.
My gaze falls on the street sign a few steps away, and I stumble to my feet.
Mountain View Lane.
Tingles spread through me. And I glance around to find what house number we’re at.
53.
Shit, shit, shit.
How is this the house we’re looking for?
And I bet the furious man I’m staring at is George Roberts.
This is ridiculous!
Seriously, what are the odds of crashing into a snowman in the first place? And then one that belongs to the man controlling the legality of my marriage?
Claudette will have a field day with this one!
What I can see of his face has turned red as a tomato, and he’s loosening the scarf around his neck.
Yep… I recognize him now.
“Rhia,” I whisper shout, trying to get her attention, but she’s in full swing now.
