Page 72 of Snowballed

“He thought that I’d cave. But he’s not the only stubborn one in the family. I had some savings, and I picked up more doing private hockey training in the summer. But I still didn’t have enough, so when I saw your ad for free room and board, I snapped it up.”

“That’s so unfair,” I say. “He’s not treating you like an adult. You can’t force people to do things.”

He nods but doesn’t say anymore. The split with his dad pains Noah, and I feel a rush of empathy. We both have father issues that cast a shadow over our lives.

Noah says, “You’re doing things for your dad, and I’m doing things to spite my dad.”

“You’re not, though. If you wanted to spite your dad, you’d quit hockey and, I don’t know, play basketball? Become a gambler?”

He smiles. “But I love playing hockey. One great thing about this year is that the joy is back.”

We trudge through the snow.

A memory pops out of me. “My dad and I had a fight two weeks before his stroke. It wasn’t a big deal, and we made up… but it feels like time wasted, you know?”

Noah sighs. “I hear you. But you don’t know my father. He’s not even talking to me right now.”

“Oh I’m sorry. You’re so smart that you’re making connections that I didn’t even realize I was making.”

“It’s fine.” He swings our hands as we walk.

“It’s true though. I would give anything to talk to him again. To hear my father’s laugh. Or even hear him complain.” Whenever my friends are having issues with their fathers, I want to say this. That we can’t take them for granted.

“You still have a mother,” Noah points out.

“Yes, but our family took sides. Derek is Mom’s favorite. I was Dad’s. Now there’s no one on my team.”

I can’t believe how close the tears are again. But it’s true; before Noah came, I felt like I had to do everything on the farm. I don’t mind doing the work, but the constant responsibility weighs heavy.

He pulls me into him. His arms encircle me in a tight hug, and I feel that sense of safety again. He plants butterfly kisses on my cheeks, eyebrows, and chin—sweet kisses that give comfort but ask for nothing in return. I can feel my heart beating in my chest, swelling and filling with love for Noah.

One last kiss on the tip of my nose, then he pulls back and smiles at me. His full, perfect lips part and he says, “I’m on your team.”

25

Noah

I assumed I would spend Christmas with the Meyers until I receive a flight pass and a no-nonsense email from my mother. I’m not looking forward to being back in L.A. with my father, but it’s something I’ll have to face eventually.

Zoe’s mood is low as she takes me to the airport.

“It’s where we first met,” I point out.

“Ugh. Don’t remind me. I was horrible to you that day.”

I laugh. “Who could blame you? I was being an asshole.” It’s hard to equate the person I am now with that sullen, self-pitying jerk.

Zoe manages a faint smile. “I’ve never told you this, but I have this quirk. I get nervous when I’m with someone who’s really good looking, and then I can’t stop talking.”

“You seem to be over that now,” I say.

“True. Now I don’t find you attractive at all.”

I rub my hand up and down her jean-clad thigh. “That’s not what you said last night.” Denise had her night class, and we’d taken full advantage of that.

Zoe’s eyes widen, and she licks her lips. “Oh yes. How am I going to get along withoutthat?”

“It’s only ten days.” But she’s right. Ten days at home loom like an eternity.

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