down her cousin’s front walk and told him she loved him.
“I’ll try harder, Mamacita,” he said softly.
“You just try your best. That’s all anyone can do.”
When she’d first left for her conference, only a few little snowflakes had been drifting lazily toward the ground. Now an entire army of flakes was falling, quickly smothering the street and adding to the thick blankets on the lawns.
“It’s snowing!” Leo announced.
Brrr. Maybe she’d rethink hanging her Christmas lights.
Except Leo hadn’t forgotten that decorating the house was on the agenda. “Can we do our lights now?”
“Yes, on one condition. You have to promise you’ll try to have a good attitude about schoolwork tonight.”
Leo frowned. “I promise,” he said reluctantly.
Once they got home, she fetched the boxes of lights she’d purchased earlier in the week. “This is going to look like Disneyland,” Leo predicted as he followed her out onto the front yard.
Hardly, but it would look nice.
The new snow had lured out many of the neighbor kids and they were racing back and forth through yards, throwing snowballs at each other. She caught Leo watching them, yearning to be a part of the fun. The last time he’d joined in, the fun had involved a baseball sailing through Mr. Cratchett’s living room window and it hadn’t turned out so well.
Jimmy Wilson, a nice little boy who lived a few houses down, came running up to them. “Can Leo play?”
Jimmy was one boy in the neighborhood who was kind to Leo, who didn’t see him as different. Jimmy was seven and Leo was nine. The age difference worked to Leo’s advantage.
“Yes!” Leo cried. “Can I go play?” he asked Sienna.
“Of course,” she said. Snowball fights were infinitely more exciting than putting up Christmas lights.
The words were barely out of her mouth before he and Jimmy were charging off across the lawn. As far as Leo was concerned, snow was one of the Seven Wonders of the World.
Sienna smiled until she heard a boy call, “Here comes the retard.”
Her jaws clamped together and her good mood evaporated. When Rita had suggested she leave LA and move to Icicle Falls, it had seemed like a good idea. Leo had been having trouble in school and she’d grown weary of the traffic, pollution and worrying about staying in a neighborhood that was becoming increasingly more populated with unsavory characters. A move to her cousin’s idyllic mountain town had seemed like the best solution, especially when Rita had painted a glowing picture of Icicle Falls. Gorgeous scenery, clean mountain air and a good school for Leo, friendly people.
But Sienna had quickly discovered that a small town could be just as hard on a child’s psyche as a big city. It hadn’t taken the other kids long to figure out that Leo wasn’t as mentally sharp as the rest of them. Then the bullies had surfaced and the name-calling had begun, leaving him hurt and angry.
She’d love to have aimed a snowball at whoever had just called out those hurtful words.
“I am not a retard,” Leo cried hotly.
Sienna turned to summon him back just in time to see Mr. Cratchett checking his mailbox, kids racing past him down the sidewalk. And here came Leo after the biggest one, a scowl on his face and a tightly packed snowball in his hand. He hurled it with all his might.
And missed.
His target danced away, laughing, even as the icy weapon beaned Mr. Cratchett on the head. Sienna watched in horror as Cratchett blinked, staggered and lost his balance, stumbling backward onto his lawn.
Be sure to include that new family member in your holiday preparations.
—Muriel Sterling, A Guide to Happy Holidays
Laughing and whooping, the herd of boys moved on, taking their snowball fight to the other end of the street.
Leo’s friend Jimmy stood for a moment, wide-eyed, and then he bolted.
Leo simply froze in the street, staring in horror.
“Leo, get out of the street!” Sienna called as she rushed to help Mr. Cratchett.
An approaching car honked and Leo jumped and moved out of the way. He slowly approached Cratchett, who was struggling to his feet, and said in a small voice, “I’m sorry.”
“Are you okay, Mr. Cratchett?” Sienna asked as she bent to help him up.
He waved away her hand. “I’m fine, no thanks to your son. I could’ve broken my hip. As it is, I think I’ve sprained my wrist.”
Oh, no. What if he had? What if he expected her to pay the doctor bill?
Now he was upright again and brushing the snow off his backside. Leo tried to help him and was promptly told to keep his hands to himself. “You’ll get the doctor bill for this,” he informed Sienna. Of course she would.
Just what she wanted for Christmas. “Absolutely,” she said. “I’m really sorry.”
“You’re lucky I don’t sue you,” Cratchett added.
Oh, Lord. She wouldn’t put it past him.
“I didn’t mean to hit you,” Leo told him.
“Well, you did. Didn’t you?” Cratchett snapped.
“I didn’t mean to,” Leo repeated, tears beginning to make their appearance. “I was trying to hit Tommy Haskel.”
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Sienna said, patting her son’s arm.
Cratchett glared at her. “It is not! These kids run around throwing snowballs every which way, hitting innocent bystanders, and then you coddle them.”
“He said he was sorry,” Sienna snapped, her mama-bear side showing itself.
Now Leo began to cry in earnest and she hugged him.
“You should be ashamed of yourself,” Sienna scolded Cratchett.
“Me?” he protested. “Who’s the one who got hit?”
At that moment a red truck pulled up to the curb. A large man with a dark beard wearing jeans, boots and a black parka stepped out of it. “Hey there, uncle. Making friends with the neighbors?” he said with a smile.
Cratchett told him he was a smart-ass and stomped back up his front walk.
This man was related to Mr. Cratchett? Poor him.
“Don’t tell me, let me
