Janis lost her glove. Joan doesn’t know how, but Christopher made sure to give Janis one of is. Joan’s pretty sure that he’s scared of Janis’ father, but she hasn’t gotten verbal proof of that yet.

If Joan loved her granddaughter a little less, she’d be sitting in the pickup truck right now with the heat on so high that she’d become a rotisserie chicken, but instead, she stands, watching as Janis and Regina trudge up the hill once again with their sled dragged behind them. Their individual sleds are sitting in the bed of the pickup, but they’ve been sharing one for maybe four rides now.

“Have you taken any pictures yet?” Christopher asks, handing her a travel mug of hot chocolate. They prepared it for the girls, but they haven’t wanted it yet. There are two more in the car.

“A few,” Joan admits, still cold, even with the hot chocolate. “We’re going to need to get them inside soon. I don’t want to return Janis to Lani and Vasa as a popsicle.”

“We’ll get them eventually,” Christopher says, and they both hold their breath as Regina sets herself and Janis up on the sled and then kicks her leg out to give them momentum and send them flying down the hill. “I miss having that kind of energy.”

“I wish they’d have less of that kind of energy,” Joan comments, only half meaning it. She’d just like to be anywhere warmer than this right now. “I bet you wish you had your other glove right now.”

“I have pockets for a reason,” Christopher replies. “Get a picture of them when they come back up again. Before and after.”

“Why don’t you take it?” Joan asks, handing him her camera. “Someone’s got to keep taking them. I won’t be around forever.”

“Mom, don’t talk like that,” his voice softens, and Joan squeezes his arm.

“I am just saying. I’m not going to be around forever.”

“I know,” Christopher says.

A comfortable silence sits between them while they wait for Regina and Janis to come back up the hill, and when they do, Joan tells them to wrap an arm around each other for the picture.

It’s not refined. They look exhausted, and Janis’ too-big glove sticks out, and their scarves look like they’re almost lost to the wind. But, they’re happy. Joan would take any cold to see those smiles on their faces.

originally mentioned in chapter 29: There’s a third photo that catches her eye - Janis and Regina knee deep in the snow. There was a big snowstorm that year, and Regina’s dad dug out his father’s pickup truck and drove them and her grandmother to one of the best sledding hills in the city. They sledded for hours, and the picture is of them half-hugging each other. Their scarves are suggestions, one of Janis’ gloves is missing and replaced with one from Regina’s dad, and their faces are bright red. 

Janis lost her glove. Joan doesn’t know how, but Christopher made sure to give Janis one of is. Joan’s pretty sure that he’s scared of Janis’ father, but she hasn’t gotten verbal proof of that yet.

If Joan loved her granddaughter a little less, she’d be sitting in the pickup truck right now with the heat on so high that she’d become a rotisserie chicken, but instead, she stands, watching as Janis and Regina trudge up the hill once again with their sled dragged behind them. Their individual sleds are sitting in the bed of the pickup, but they’ve been sharing one for maybe four rides now.

“Have you taken any pictures yet?” Christopher asks, handing her a travel mug of hot chocolate. They prepared it for the girls, but they haven’t wanted it yet. There are two more in the car.

“A few,” Joan admits, still cold, even with the hot chocolate. “We’re going to need to get them inside soon. I don’t want to return Janis to Lani and Vasa as a popsicle.”

“We’ll get them eventually,” Christopher says, and they both hold their breath as Regina sets herself and Janis up on the sled and then kicks her leg out to give them momentum and send them flying down the hill. “I miss having that kind of energy.”

“I wish they’d have less of that kind of energy,” Joan comments, only half meaning it. She’d just like to be anywhere warmer than this right now. “I bet you wish you had your other glove right now.”

“I have pockets for a reason,” Christopher replies. “Get a picture of them when they come back up again. Before and after.”

“Why don’t you take it?” Joan asks, handing him her camera. “Someone’s got to keep taking them. I won’t be around forever.”

“Mom, don’t talk like that,” his voice softens, and Joan squeezes his arm.

“I am just saying. I’m not going to be around forever.”

“I know,” Christopher says.

A comfortable silence sits between them while they wait for Regina and Janis to come back up the hill, and when they do, Joan tells them to wrap an arm around each other for the picture.

It’s not refined. They look exhausted, and Janis’ too-big glove sticks out, and their scarves look like they’re almost lost to the wind. But, they’re happy. Joan would take any cold to see those smiles on their faces.

originally mentioned in chapter 29: There’s a third photo that catches her eye - Janis and Regina knee deep in the snow. There was a big snowstorm that year, and Regina’s dad dug out his father’s pickup truck and drove them and her grandmother to one of the best sledding hills in the city. They sledded for hours, and the picture is of them half-hugging each other. Their scarves are suggestions, one of Janis’ gloves is missing and replaced with one from Regina’s dad, and their faces are bright red.