James Joseph Preston III looked out of the big window in the living room and grinned at the falling snow. He loved the snow.
“Dad! Dad!” He pushed off the window ledge and raced through the house, looking for his father. He found him in the study, cleaning up the desk.
“Dad! Did you see?”
“Hey, buddy. What’s got you so excited?
“It’s snowing. The big flakes that are best for buildin’ snow men!”
“The winter’s just starting, Joey. You’ve got lots of time to build snow men.”
“But I wanna build one now! Can we got outside? You’re puttin’ your stuff away. That means you’re done workin’, right?
James came around his desk and squatted down so he was on Joey’s level. “I am done what I was doing,” he said. “But we can’t build a snowman today. You mom and I are going out, remember?”
“Do you have to?” Joey asked, a hint of whine in his voice.
“Yes, buddy, I have to. But maybe I can find some time tomorrow.”
“Promise?” Joey asked, having heard this before.
“I’ll do my best, buddy.” James rose to his feet and tousled Joey’s hair.
“And hey, you get to spend time with Christine today. You like Christine, don’t you? Maybe she’ll go out with you.”
“Chrissy doesn’t like the snow,” Joey informed him.
James barely refrained from rolling his eyes. “Well, maybe she’ll play video games with you. And we’ll be home by suppertime.”
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Joey sighed loudly, arms crossed with his chin resting on one chubby fist, his too-short legs dangling over the edge of the chair, swinging back and forth. If he really strained on the outward swing, the toes of his running shoes could just reach the edge of the coffee table leaving a very satisfying scuff mark on its shining surface.
Not that it mattered really. Chrissy wouldn’t care. Chrissy didn’t care about anything but her phone since she got herself a boyfriend. Joey didn’t know who he was, but he hated him all the same. His favorite babysitter wasn’t fun anymore.
His legs stopped swinging and he jumped off his chair.
“Chrissy,” he went over and tugged at her sleeve. “Chrissy! It stopped snowing. Can I go out ‘n play?”
Chrissy waved a hand in his general direction, but it was unclear whether she was giving him permission or shooing him away. Joey wasted no time on an interpretation but headed with five-year-old speed for the back door.
He struggled into his snowpants and pulled on his old boots that did up with velcro instead of the new ones with the laces. Not being able to manage the zipper himself, and not wanting to ask Chrissy for help in case she hadn’t been giving him permission to go outside, he left his jacket undone. Leaving his hat and scarf behind, but putting his mittens on, he went out the back door.
And hour later found him perched atop the snow covered picnic table, surveying his work. In the center of the back yard, amid the much-trampled snow, was a large snowball with two smaller ones beside it. Try as he might, he lacked the strength to stack them.
He sat much as he had in the house, dangling legs swinging back and forth, chin resting on a very damp, clenched mitt. He sighed and tried to think of something else to do outside. There seemed to be no point in going back inside.
Grandpa Preston would have known what to do. Joey missed him a lot. Grandpa never yakked on the phone all day. Grandpa was never too busy to play with him. And when it was too nasty to play outside, grandpa would sit with him by the fire and tell all kinds of neat stories, like the ones about winter’s children.
Joey sat up straight. That’s what he could do. He could go look for one of winter’s children. Maybe one of them would like to play with him. And then he could bring it back for his dad to see and then maybe grandpa could come back to live with them again.
He slid down off of the picnic table and shot a quick glance at the house before hurrying off, unmindful of the fact he was never, under any circumstances, to leave the back yard without permission. Forgetful of all of grandpa’s warnings of what could happen to little boys in the snow.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Missed an installment? Catch up here:
Introduction, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12
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