Page 48 of A Class of Her Own

I blinked a few times and then looked up to see the candy cane still wedged in the net, dangling there mocking me.

“Meredith!” Lizzie immediately knelt by me, causing her elf hat to tip forward. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

Aryn came over next, her eyes dancing. “Oh my gosh. I wish so much I’d gotten that on film. It’s not every day I get to watch your feet fly out from under you.”

“I almost experienced death thanks to you and that hat,” I retorted. I rubbed at the spot under my chin that had momentarily born my entire weight. “Thank goodness the snaps came free.”

Aryn sputtered out a laugh and slapped her hand over her mouth. “Where were you off to in such a hurry?”

“Ruby said there was a milk puddle forming.”

“I’ll go help her.” Aryn darted away, and I could see her shoulders shaking from laughter as she hurried to the other side of the gym.

“This might qualify for workman’s comp if you’re seriously injured.” Lizzie patted my arm.

“Is the candy cane still up there?” I asked, embarrassment washing over me as I realized how many eyes were directed our way.

Lizzie looked up, her elf cap slipping backwards over her curls. “Yep.”

“Care to guess on a percentage of people here that just watched me hook a hat in a basketball net and swing from it by my head?”

It took her a few seconds to shove down the giggles, but she finally answered as she stood and reached down to help me up. “No more than sixty percent.”

“What a relief.”

The snow was really dumping again as I drove through my neighborhood in the dark after the party and clean up were all done. Why did winter have to be so crummy? Both dark and snowy? Come on Mother Nature, throw us a bone here. Let’s have sunlit snow days every now and again. It’s bad enough that people get off work at 5:30 p.m. and have to head home in the icy tundra, but throwing darkness into the mixture is plain rude.

I was grateful that my driveway was at least clear when I arrived, but I could see the shape of Brooks as he walked by, tossing ice melt again. This time he was also carrying a snow shovel with him. I pulled into my garage right as he arrived at Hazel’s house next door. I parked my car and popped open the trunk to retrieve some of the things I’d contributed to the event, which didn’t really amount to much. I glanced up to see him wave at me and turned to face him.

A tiny, almost unnoticeable bubble of happiness tried to float up under my sternum at the sight of him standing there with a smile that was meant for me. Frightened, I squashed it. I may not be trying to make him pay for all the injustices of the world anymore, but I certainly couldn’t be happy to see him.

“How long until you fire the snow removal company?” I called across the snow-covered lawn. “Aren’t they supposed to be spreading ice melt?”

He tossed a handful of pebbles onto Hazel’s porch. “It’s not as easy as that.”

“I’d have fired them several weeks ago when they started skipping peoples’ houses.”

“You’d have fired Mother Teresa for too much self-sacrifice and encouraged her to have a little ‘me time,’” he retorted with a laugh.

A delighted feeling swirled through my chest at the sound, and I bit the inside of my cheek. I was going to go over there and tick him off so that we could take this situation between us back to places I felt comfortable with. I tugged my mittens out of my coat pockets—because all Northern Utah women know to keep mittens in pockets from October to April—and closed my trunk, leaving the decor where it had been sitting. Moving out of the garage, I used the key code pad to close the big door behind me. Brooks stood still and watched as I broke trail through the snowy yard rather than taking the shoveled sidewalks. His breath came out in light puffs of white around his face, and I could see condensation in his dark beard as I came to a stop near him.

“You’re not even wearing boots,” he muttered, looking down at my loafers.

“I’m fine.” I actually hated that I’d forgotten about my footwear and that snow had fallen in and was melting around the soles of my feet but admitting that was not happening.

He nodded, a tiny smile still tugging at his mouth. “I forgot, your feet probably stay warm from the heat of crushing dreams beneath your heels.”

I laughed. I’d meant for it to sound sarcastic, but I’d been so caught off guard by his statement that it was accidentally kind of a real laugh. “That’s big coming from the guy who placates everyone so delicately all the time.”

He sprinkled a tiny handful of ice melt over the tops of my shoes, and when I was done looking down at my loafers in shock, I glanced up to see him grinning from ear to ear. His smile was particularly bright in the soft glow of Hazel’s porch lights, and he looked like a young boy who’d just hit his first home run.

“Don’t want ice forming on your toes,” he said in an amused tone.

My mouth opened, knowing that in this verbal dance the next move was mine, but I was at a loss for words. I’d come over here feeling irritated, and now I felt . . . something else. My lack of reply seemed to make him even more happy, and he reached for the snow shovel that had been leaning on Hazel’s railing.

“Here. Let’s see if you can do something besides attack me,” he said. “If you have the energy to come after me, you have energy to help.”