Page 49 of Penalty Zone

“You three should go into town and check out the festival of lights.” My mom waves her fork at me, Dad, and Leo.

“Mom, it has to be canceled with the snow.” I have never been able to hide things from her, but she can’t know about me and Leo already.

“Nonsense. The lights are already up, and we’re hardy people. This town won’t let a little snow stop us.”

“Six inches in an hour is more than a little snow, dear.” My dad pats her hand, but with the look she gives him, he adds, “But we can take the truck and at least drive around to check out the light sculptures they made this year.”

“Sounds like an adventure,” Leo agrees.

And that’s how I found myself as a grown ass man wedged in the truck’s cab between my father and Leo. I can’t even enjoy being pressed against Leo.

The truck fishtails around a corner, and I brace my feet with a hand on the top of the cab, but there’s no way to avoid falling on Leo. I swear he’s taking up more room than necessary, but I can’t call him out with my dad here.

“Here we are.” My dad turns off Main Street onto the section dedicated to the light sculptures. “It’s better to walk the path, but tonight we’ll stay in the truck.”

I can’t think of anything I’ve done to warrant such bad karma to be trapped like this.

“Who makes these?” Leo asks, taking in the baseball player throwing a pitch.

“Local companies sponsor one or more, and they have teams of people build them. Some are used every year. The lights attach to steel bases and are programmed in succession so it looks like the pitcher is moving.” My dad lets the truck idle as he explains.

“This one and the castle at the end have been here for a decade,” I chime in.

Leo looks ahead, and my dad drives forward. The lights reflect a rainbow of colors in the cab, mesmerizing Leo. This is something I take for granted, and it’s cool to see it fresh from his perspective.

My dad and Leo talk about the different displays and the mechanics of it, but I’m watching Leo. Luckily, I can cover my stare by pretending to listen and taking in the sights. The castle at the end of the road is two and a half stories high, and we can drive through it. Dad stops the truck, so it feels like we’re in the center of a fairytale. Usually, there would be a line of cars beeping at us, but the storm kept almost everyone indoors.

“Look, they’re still doing sleigh rides.” Dad points and drives in that direction.

“We’re not going on a sleigh ride.” I hear the panic in my voice.

“Those poor horses have to stand in the cold. We should let them get their blood pumping to keep them warm. There are plenty of wool blankets.” He side-eyes me as if he can’t figure out what my problem is. It’s my favorite part of the holidays, especially when it’s snowing. It’s like magic.

But I can’t be under a blanket with Leoandmy dad. A guy can only resist so much.

“We can keep each other warm.” Leo nudges me.

I’ve entered an alternate universe. It’s almost as if Leo doesn’t care if my dad knows.

We park and trek through a foot of unshoveled snow to the man standing in a tiny booth with a space heater to buy tickets.

“My treat,” my dad says, handing over cash.

“Thank you, that’s generous, but I feel like I should pay since I’m imposing on your hospitality.” Leo has his wallet in his hand.

“Nonsense. Consider this included in your holiday package,” my dad jokes.

I have nothing to say. Maybe I have what Mason has, and I’m delirious from a fever.

Leo gets in the carriage first and lifts the blankets to get under. I step up next, and Dad’s phone rings.

“It’s your mom.” He answers the phone and nods gravely, checking his watch. “Your mom wants an herbal tea for Mason, and the shop closes in fifteen minutes. I’m going to get that for her and meet you back here.” He strides away.

I watch his back, wondering if I’ll snuggle Leo under the blankets like we’re on a date.

“You’re getting covered in snow. Get in.” Leo holds up the patchwork of wool.

I sit next to him, leaving several inches between us. The driver slaps the reins, and we’re off with a jerk. The motion somehow closes the gap between us.

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