“Aw, poor little guy’s missing his head,” Evan said. He trotted away from her into the snow of one yard where one snowman’s head had fallen off. Evan picked it up and replaced it.
“You like snowmen?” she asked when he returned.
“Love them.”
This isn’t going to work out.
“If you’re too upset about Robby, we don’t have to go out,” Evan said.
“I want to go out, keep my mind off of things.”
“How long does it take you to get over things? A day? Two?”
She looked up at him, about to bark her response but captured by his blue eyes. The skin around them softened in genuine warmth and concern. He didn’t look cold despite not wearing more than a sweater and his scarf, and his chiseled features suddenly reminded her of an ice sculpture: Painstakingly, perfectly symmetrical. Two days seemed too long to keep someone like this at a distance.
“About that,” she said.
“That’ll be a lifetime for me,” his words were troubled.
“You don’t have family here or something to do during the holidays?”
“My dad’s in town, but not for long. Not sure where my mother is this year.”
“Oh, did she like, leave you guys or something?” Sandy asked, starting to feel sorry for him.
“She travels a lot for work.”
“Well, you can hang out with me. I have no plans anymore.”
“I’d like that,” he said. His smile and glowing eyes were genuine, as if she’d given him the best Christmas present ever.
Puzzled by the man, Sandy passed the bus stop for a strip mall with the only cars in the parking lot crowded in front of the small sports bar on the corner. She shook off the cold as she entered. Several people played pool while several more sat at the end of the bar nearest the TV. Sandy chose a seat on the opposite end of the bar. The bar was decorated for Christmas with tinsel lining the counter and snow globes on every table.
Evan picked up a globe as he passed a table and put it on the counter between them. Sandy ignored him, instead meeting the gaze of the bartender.
“Vodka-cranberry,” she called. “What do you want, Evan?”
“Spiked eggnog.”
The bartender got to work. Sandy picked up the snow globe and shook it. Evan took it before she could watch the snow settle over the sleepy town inside.
“You shouldn’t invoke its magic unless you’re ready for it,” he advised.
“What?”
“If you shake it just right, the snow-fairy will appear and grant you your heart’s deepest wish. If you’re not ready, you could end up with something weird.”
“I’ve never heard that one,” she said. “It’s a cute story.”
“It’s not a story.” He seemed more serious than she’d seen him. “One of my friends wanted gingerbread and the snow fairy turned him into a gingerbread man instead. He was outside a school, and as soon as the kids saw him …” Evan drifted off, regret on his face. “His was a brutal death.”
“I’m gonna need another one of these,” Sandy said to the bartender as he brought them drinks. “There’s something about you that’s just not normal, Evan.”
He froze with the drink halfway to his mouth and lowered it.
“First, I don’t know why you’d even consider having a drink with me. Second, you don’t seem like a normal human being,” she said. “What’s your story?”
“I’m new in town,” he hedged. “We can talk about that later.”
“Suit yourself.” She hadn’t eaten all day, and she chugged her first drink. By the time the bartender brought her another, she was already feeling the alcohol’s effects. The feeling of a cold breeze made her turn towards the door and groan.
Misty. The desperate woman must’ve followed them.
“Hey, mind if I join you?” she asked, smiling as she sidled up to Evan. She didn’t wait for anyone to respond and sat down on the stool beside Evan. “So, Evan, where are you from?”
Sandy didn’t want to listen but found herself interested in his answers. His back was to her now, leaving her to revel in her alcohol and misery.
“Up north,” he replied.
“Canada?”
“Uh, farther north.”
“Alaska! Oh, I love Alaska!” Misty exclaimed. “You have family there, girlfriend, anything?”
“Not really,” Evan answered.
“No girlfriend or wife?”
“Just Sandy.”
Sandy choked at his answer and beat her chest with her fist, coughing.
“Oooooooh,” Misty said. “That’s why Robby broke it off with her.”
“He was a snow-gnome,” Evan said. “Where I’m from, a few poisoned gumdrops would get rid of someone like that.”
The bartender brought Sandy a glass of water. She downed it, her throat burning and eyes watery. She tried to speak but it came out a cough. The two were ignoring her anyway.
“So how long have you two known each other?” Misty asked, eyes lighting up at the prospect of new gossip.
“A day,” Sandy croaked.
“Five years,” Evan said simultaneously. “Well, I’ve known Sandy that long. I was just too shy to do anything about it.”
“What’re you talking about?” Sandy asked.
“What a sweet story,” Misty said. “Though I wouldn’t have guess she was your … um, type.”
“You’re one to talk! Sleeps with—” Sandy sputtered.
“She’s the most beautiful person in the world,” Evan said. Sandy fell silent, surprised. “Just took me awhile to work up the nerve to ask the snow fairy to grant me a wish.”
His words were starting to make less sense. Sandy lowered her drink. She was on the third, and the world was a bit fuzzier than usual.
“You must tell me this story!” Misty said and leaned forward, pushing her cleavage closer to Evan.
“I’m going home,” Sandy said and slapped a twenty dollar bill on the counter. “Go ahead and sleep with her, Evan. She won’t say no to any guy.”
Standing unsteadily, she waited for her balance to right itself and concentrated on weaving her way through the tables to the door. She was too drunk to feel the coldness of the snowy world outside. More fat flakes drifted downward from dark gray clouds. Sandy trudged through the parking lot.
“You need your coat,” Evan called, jogging after her.
“I’d rather freeze to death,” she snapped. She felt the heaviness of it around her shoulders and shrugged into it without thanking him.
“She’s a nice lady,” he said.
“Go hang out with her then!”
“I want to be with you.”
She looked up. He seemed serious, though she was having trouble focusing. She slipped as she stepped onto the sidewalk, and he caught her. His marshmallow scent was comforting, and his heat reminded her of the last time someone had held her. Then dumped her. She pushed him away.
“Just let me fall. I’m too drunk to get hurt,” she told him. “And you can stop with this crap about wanting to be around me. I’m not going to sleep with you just because I’m drunk.”
“But I do want to be around you,” he insisted and wrapped an arm around her waist as she slid again. “I was serious about asking the snow fairy for a favor. I have until tomorrow night to win you over or I —”
“Eggnog floozy,” a snowman smirked.
Anger tore through her, and she glared at the snowman.
“Here, kitty, kitty,” another said.
“I’ve had enough of you!” she shouted and pushed Evan away. “All of you!”
More of the snowmen laughed. Sandy started running. She slid and ran as fast as she could, oblivious to the cold wind sucking the air from her lungs. Evan trailed, his words lost in her drunken anger. She ran home and flung open the garage door then grabbed the first blunt object she could find: Her younger sister’s softball bat.
Sandy emerged onto the sidewalk again to the chatter of snowmen.
/>
“Looks like a reindeer turd,” one said.
“You are the first who’s going to melt in hell,” she said and pointed the bat at the snowman that spoke. She charged it and slammed the bat into the side of its head once, twice, thrice. “My whole life you’ve … ridiculed me … made fun of my clothes … who’s laughing now?” As if from a distance, she heard it shouting, but she kept beating the snowman until its head exploded into snow and it fell silent.
Then she moved onto the next one. Drunken fury and sorrow fed her frenzy as she slaughtered snowman after snowman in her neighbors’ yards, even taking the head off a snow-dog barking at her, and pounding a snow angel to death. She slaughtered the snow creatures left and right.
Covered in the snow of her victims, she reached the final snowman in a five yard radius and raised her bat one last time.
“Now, Shuga,” Chuy’s voice was sympathetic. “You don’t want to do this.”
Too crazed to recognize him at first, Sandy focused before she lowered her bat. Exhausted from her rampage, she felt tears rise. She felt something break inside her and realized she couldn’t kill enough snowmen to sate the hurt Robby caused. Some part of her admitted she’d always known Robby wasn’t right for her, but she hadn’t wanted to face it. Standing before one of her only friends, she felt the reality sink into her like the cold night. She sank to her knees.
“It’s not fair, Chuy!” she said, crying. “I just want to be happy and feel loved!”
“You wouldn’t have been happy with Robby, shuga, and I think you know that,” he said kindly. “And no one loves a mass murderer.”
“A what?”
“You slaughtered ten innocent snowmen. It wasn’t their time to go, but they’ll go back to the North Pole to await new assignments.”
“I don’t care about them. They’re mean to me. I wouldn’t hurt you. You’ve always been good to me,” she said.
“And so has my snow-son.”
“Oh, did I kill him, too?” she asked, looking around.
“Not yet, though you still may.”
His words made no sense to her tired mind. She wiped her face with cold hands. She felt drained and tired.
“Are you ok?” Evan approached. She’d forgotten about him and twisted to see him. He was pale like snow, his gaze taking in the destruction in the neighboring yard.
“She’s fine. You should get her inside, though. Humans are too weak to withstand the cold,” Chuy replied.
“I will, Pops,” Evan said. He knelt and lifted her. His body was warm, and she didn’t realize how cold she was until held against him.
“Thanks, Chuy,” she murmured. “Sorry about killing everyone.”
“You just take care of yourself,” he said.
She huddled against Evan. By the time they reached the garage, she was asleep.
Sandy awoke almost too sore to move and with her head pounding. Her apartment was warm and smelled like apple cider. Assuming her mom brought her breakfast, she staggered out of bed. The brightness of the living room blinded her, and she stared at the man at her tiny kitchen table.
Even with a hangover, she’d never seen anyone as handsome as Evan. He had a day’s growth of beard around his jaw that made him look even more rugged. Her heart fluttered, and she forgot her headache for a split second, until it began pounding.
“I didn’t expect you to be here,” she said and looked down self-consciously. She wore her clothes from the day before.
“I wanted to make sure you were ok,” he said. “You didn’t look so good last night.”
“Last night …” she thought hard then rubbed her temples. She remembered Misty at the bar, walking home and … killing snowmen. “Oh, yeah. Those jerks had it coming. They’ve been making fun of me my whole life.”
“I’m sorry they treated you that way,” he said. “I knew you could hear them, but I didn’t know they were always mean to you.”
“Well they are, and have been since I was little. You know how hard it is to go outside … wait, what did you just say? You know I talk to snowmen?” She crossed her arms.
“You shouldn’t be ashamed. It’s a gift.”
“In the real world, when one person can hear voices no one else can, they’re called crazies.”
“Then we’re both crazy.”
Another thought wiggled at the edge of Sandy’s mind. She crossed to the small kitchen to see a pot of coffee awaiting her next to a covered skillet. She lifted it, and the scent of cinnamon French toast made her stomach roar.
“You made this?” she asked.
“I thought you’d need it.”
“Wow.” Robby never made me breakfast!
“Do you hate all snowmen?”
“All of them except Chuy. He’s been nice to me,” she replied and plopped two pieces of warm French toast on a plate. “You don’t think I’m weird or crazy?”
“Not for that reason,” he said. “I’m glad you like Chuy.”
“Why?” She joined him at the table, feeling warm on the inside at the directness of his blue gaze.
“What I said last night was true.”
She thought hard, but most of the night was a blur. He frowned at her silence.
“The snow fairy …” he prodded.
“Oh, right, they live in snow globes.”
“They don’t live there. They just grant wishes,” he explained. “They granted me a wish.”
“Which was …”
“To become human for two days.”
“Because you’re actually … a snowman?” she said in disbelief.
“Yes.”
“What happens after two days?” she asked.
“My soul turns to snow that melts in the spring.”
Sandy ate her French toast in silence, not sure what to say. She’d thought herself crazy for being able to talk to snowmen, and yet, Evan claimed to be one. Any normal person would’ve kicked him out of the apartment and called the police. She couldn’t help thinking what he said made some sense. He was one unusual dude, and he’d understood when Chuy spoke to him.
The more she thought, the more she remembered from the night before.
She’s the most beautiful person in the world, he’d told Misty.
“You came here for me,” she said, digesting the information. “And Chuy’s your dad?”
“Yes,” he said with another of his bright smiles.
“So you don’t really work at my office.”
“No. I do cook, though. Snowmen usually have a back-up skill, in case they’re melted — or beaten to death with a bat — before their assignment is up.”
“But why did you ask the snow globe to bring you here? You don’t have snow-women at home?” she asked, puzzled.
“I’ve always liked you,” he said with a shrug. “Always thought your eyes were the color of pine needles and your smile brighter than the winter sun. You deserved someone who would appreciate your laugh and keep you warm in the winter. Someone better than Robby. He’d been cheating on you for a year, according to Rupert and Matilda.”
“Bastard,” she said without heat, more interested in everything else he’d said. She’d needed her breakdown the night before and to cry out her anger. Though her head hurt, she felt calmer and couldn’t help marveling over a snowman sitting in her kitchen. “You came here for me.”
“Yes.”
“Wow,” she said again. She’d felt lucky when Robby called her back. He’d definitely never said such sweet things! “You’re not upset I killed all your friends?”
“I admit, it was hard to watch,” he said. “It’s a part of our jobs, though, to be created and destroyed by the humans around us.”
She rubbed her face, not sure what to think. She felt grimy and tired.
“Would you join me for a Christmas Eve dinner tonight?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said, surprised he’d still ask after her behavior towards other snowmen. “I’d like that.”
“Good. I’ll come back when
the sun sets.” He offered another smile that warmed her insides like hot cocoa, then rose and left.
Sandy gazed at the door long after it had closed. She roused herself and crossed to the window overlooking the street. Evan was in an animated discussion with the only snowman still standing. She wondered what Chuy was telling him. Run for the hills? Or take her to dinner?
She’d find out in a few hours. The idea Evan might not return disturbed her. He’d been kind to her, kinder than any other guy she’d dated. It’d be a shame if he left her like Robby did.
Her gaze went to her ring finger and the engagement ring still there. She pried it off and dropped it on the table before going back to her bed for a few more hours of sleep.
Whatever Chuy told Evan, he showed up half an hour after sunset. A smile slipped free as she saw his form walk up the pathway from the sidewalk to the garage. Sandy pulled on a long coat over the maroon velvet dress she’d been planning to wear for her engagement party.
Trying not to appear too eager, she pulled open the door before he knocked. She froze.
“Hi Sandy,” Robby said.
“Robby,” she squawked. “What are you doing here?” Her heart floated then sank then floated and sank again until her stomach hurt. She didn’t know what that meant.
“I thought we could talk for a minute, though you look like you’re going somewhere,” he said, his gaze sweeping over her.
“No, not at all.”
“You wanna go for a walk?”
“Sure.” She joined him on the landing, and he led her out of the garage into the cold night.
“I thought, if you want, we could go grab a bite to eat,” he said, indicating his waiting car with one hand.
“Um, maybe,” she said, looked up and down the sidewalks for Evan.
“You have a date or something?” Robby asked in mild annoyance.
“Do you?” she shot back.
“Actually, no. That’s why I’m here,” he said and faced her.
Her heartbeat slowed, and hope fluttered at his words before turning to wariness.
“I called it off with her. I didn’t think it was fair to you, when we had all these plans,” he said with a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Sandy. I wasn’t thinking.”
“You’re sorry,” she repeated. “You left me two days before Christmas and our engagement party for a woman you’d been sleeping with for what, a year?”
“I guess I just didn’t think I was ready to settle down.”
“And now you do?”
“I know I am, now. We can do all those things you planned, Christmas at your parents, New Years at mine, a honeymoon in the Caribbean,” he said.