This is my entry for the Winter Holiday Contest. Please feel free to read, vote, and/or comment. Thank you and Enjoy!
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Brynn was sitting with her feet up on the couch. Her golden retriever sat at her feet, the cat lay on the back of the couch, and a mug of hot cocoa in her hand. She gazed out the window at the snow falling softly to the ground, covering it in a blanket of white. The dog suddenly got up and trotted down the hall. She sipped the cocoa, glanced at the clock on the wall in the adjoining kitchen, and looked up at the soft voiced "Mommy." Her young son, Trevor, was standing in front of her, rubbing his eyes.
"Good morning, Trev." She said, as she ruffled his curly hair.
"Is it Christmas yet?" His voice asked, hopeful. She smiled at him warmly.
"Not yet, a few more days. But, guess what?" He hunched his small shoulders and sighed.
"What?"
"It's snowing!" She exclaimed, throwing her arms around him and swinging him in the air.
"It's snowing? For real. Mom you aren't fooling, are you?" He squirmed in her arms until she released him, and he ran down the hall whooping loudly, not waiting for her answer. The dog trotted after her boy. Brynn headed for the laundry room to put her snow gear on, which was likely what her son was doing, as well. She had just bought new ski pants that weekend for herself and a new winter coat for her son. Mice had made a cozy home out of their old winter wear, where it was stored in her shed. She tucked her blonde hair up into the alpaca fur trapper-hat, courtesy of her own small herd.
Trevor came out wearing his blue winter coat and super hero hat and one glove. He looked ready for playing and sledding. "Mom, do you think the 'pacas are OK in the snow?" He was obviously concerned for his fleece-y friends.
"I'm sure they are just fine. But we'll check on them and give them some extra hay." She looked at him.
"Trevor, where are your gloves?" She questioned.
"I could only find one of them." He looked down at the ground.
"The other one has to be around here. You should see if Gloria has it stuffed in her mouth behind her toy. You know how she's notorious for that."
"Note-or-iousaurus? Is that a type of dinosaur?" He asked her. She giggled.
"Notorious, it means "known." Gloria is known for hiding things in her mouth." She replied.
"Oh, good idea Mom. She was sniffing around in my room, just before." The dog came bounding over to them, tail wagging. Trevor grabbed a hold of the toy in her mouth.
"Drop it." He pointed to the floor. "Gloria drop the toy. Give me back my glove." The dog obeyed the boy, which was more than the woman could say for her.
"Nice, dog drool. Thanks a lot Glory!" Trevor wrinkled his nose up as he swung the glove around, hitting his mother in the face with the drool.
"You had to share, didn't you?" They laughed together, as Brynn slipped the semi-wet glove onto his hand. "There, all set now." She looked down at their feet and then at her son's hazel eyes. "Boots" They said together.
"Please tell me you know where your boots are."
"I know where my boots are, maybe." He gave her an impish grin. She swatted his backside and he hurried into the laundry room, tearing through laundry baskets, still brimming with clean clothes. "Found 'em." He hollered out to his Mom who was standing behind him. She was slipping on her own boots. They headed outside.
The yard looked like a winter wonderland. To Brynn, the untouched snow had an almost poetic quality. The earth was white and pristine. The word pure, came to her mind, the land sparkling in the morning sunlight. The snow covered trees bowed down with the weight of the snow and ice and looked like a haven to her. It reminded her of childhood, when life had been carefree. She would run out, make the first snow angel of the day, and then huddle beneath the snowy trees, just dreaming. To her eight-year-old boy, it had the quality of begging to be claimed. She chuckled, watching Trevor launch himself face first into a snow drift. He struggled to get himself upright and grinned at her.
"OK, now we can go feed the animals." He announced. She shook her head at him and they headed for the paddock, where her six Huacaya alpacas were kept. They looked a bit like llamas and rightly so, as they are cousins to each other. But rarely spit (except during mating). They truly were pack animals and followed the alpha female, their heads swiveling on their long necks, watching. They came rushing over to greet the pair. Their fur was curly and soft and resembled teddy-bears, in a variety of colors: brown, tan, cream, black, even a brown and white one.
They were gentle creatures, affectionate, easy to care for, and sweet. Not intimidated by children and not intimidating to children. While they had hooves, they were fur-lined, which made them light on their feet and no chance to be stomped upon, like with a horse. Brynn purchased them as a unique experience for her son and her, to raise them and care for them. But, she could make a lucrative breeding business out of it, one day if she wished. For now, they were part of the family.
Trevor unlatched the lock on the gate and waded in the snow towards them, as Brynn waded over to the storage shed for the hay. She had grabbed her shovel on the way to the pasture and got to work shoveling the snow away from the door. Once cleared, she reached in to tug off a cake from the large bale of hay. She handed the cake to her son. Trevor waded over to the run-in shed and tossed it inside. The youngest of the alpaca, "Opty" trotted up to him and butted him with its head, arching it's neck to be pet. Trevor obliged him and stroked the soft, cuddly fur. He was rewarded with a nibble on his coat. He scolded the alpaca, telling him no bite, checked each of the six, giving them each a quick pet, before returning to his mom.
"Did they have enough water?" She asked, latching the gate behind him. "Yup. They're good. OK, let's play!" Trevor shouted. Brynn turned into a snowball in her face.
"Oh, you're going to pay for that, buster." She shouted, as Trevor leaped away from her. "I'm going to get you!" She threatened, as she plodded through the snow after him. She caught him, with a gleam in her eye and grabbed for him. He tripped and landed back in the snow. She attacked and he shouted and kicked. They were both breathless.
"Let's make snow angels, Trevor."
"Snow angels are for girls!" He stuck his tongue out.
"They are not. Your father and I used to make snow angels all of the time." It was out before she could take the words back. She was so caught up in the moment, she didn't realize what she was saying. She sighed heavily.
"He did?" The boy asked her, wide-eyed. He thrust out his arms and legs, spread-eagle, and scissored them together. She looked down on him and saw shades of the boy who had stolen her heart. She gulped back a sob and plopped down beside her son to mimic his actions. She carefully stood up and pulled Trevor up too. He jumped over the snow angels, so they didn't get messed up.
"Let's make a snow man." That put the uncomfortable, where is my father, discussion to rest. Trevor knew the story, it didn't need telling again, in Brynn's mind. It was painful enough to have been so young, fallen so deeply in love, discovered a baby growing within her, and the boy she loved walk out of her life, before the baby was even born. Sometimes she had tragic romantic notions that they were happy and he loved her enough to stick around, for herself and for the baby...and something tragic happened. She knew it was wrong to think that, but it sometimes felt better that way.
"You get the head, I'll work on the middle. Then when we finish, we'll roll the bottom together." She instructed Trevor. Trevor picked up a handful of snow and began shaping it, adding snow as he went. Brynn did the same. "Trevor it seems that you might get your Christmas wish after all."
"Which one?" He asked her, pausing in his shaping.
"A White Christmas. I haven't had a White Christmas since I was little girl myself. It would be really awesome if we did have one." She considered it, excited at the possibility, herself. "Although, if we do have a White Christmas, that might make it hard to get to Grandma and Grandpa's house for Christmas dinner. Well, we'll just have to see." She completed the middle of the snow man.
"So, I think we did this opposite. We probably should have made the base first. Set the head down and come over here." They both knelt in the snow and gathered it between their hands. Then, together they started rolling it into a huge snowball. It grew, and grew, and grew until they had a decent sized bottom. "Let's roll it over to stand in front of the Blue Spruce tree. That way when I turn the Christmas lights on, they will glow on it."
"Mom, do you have an "old silk hat" we can put on his head?" Trevor asked, touching his thumb to his fingertips, to frame the snow man. "He looks a little lop-sided." Trevor started singing "Frosty the Snowman." She joined in.
"I don't have a silk hat, but I do have a cowboy hat inside. Would that work?" She asked, looking at the snow man too. "Hmm, come help me. I'm going to hold this side of the snow man. I want you to go around and shove at him with all your might. He won't topple, cause I'll be supporting him. OK? 1-2-3." Trevor pushed and pushed, until she told him to stop. They stepped back.
"Perfect!" He said, high-five-ing her.
"I'll run in and get the hat. You sit on the step and wait for me." She walked through the snow to the door and turned around.
