Fireside by Susan Wiggs (autobiographies to read .TXT) 📕

“On the other hand,” Bo said, “there’s an upside. The center in Aguacaliente in Mexico has placed a limit to the length of her stay, so the records search can be expedited. You know what expedited means?”

“I know what everything means.” AJ dropped to his knees and started rolling another snowball.

“I hear you, buddy. I do.” Bo helped him with the rest of the snowman. The whole time he was working with AJ, Bo forgot to be cold. He forgot he hated winter. He forgot everything, just watching his boy. Well, almost everything. He couldn’t forget the fact that Kim was sitting by the fire, watching them through the window.

She was the one bright spot in all of this. Against all odds, they were falling in love. He was done holding back his feelings for her. He was officially crazy about her. He wanted nothing more than to spend every minute with her, but they both understood that AJ had to come first.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yep.”

It took the two of them to hoist the midsection into place. “You’re pretty strong,” Bo remarked.

“For my size,” AJ said.

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you meant it.”

“I meant exactly what I said. You’re strong. And that’s good.” He added the bowling-ball-size head to the snowman.

AJ didn’t say anything else, but it seemed to Bo he stood a little taller. That was good, because after the news about Yolanda, it was more important than ever to make AJ feel confident. And safe.

“He needs arms,” AJ said.

“What’s that?”

“Arms,” AJ repeated. “He needs them.”

“He looks fine without arms.”

“You’re just saying that because you want to go inside and get warm.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of funny that way. I like being warm.”

AJ shook his head. “Arms.”

Bo heaved a frosty sigh as they trekked across the yard in search of low hanging branches. He found a couple, which they stuck in the sides of the snowman to create serviceable arms.

“Done,” he declared, stepping back to regard their handiwork.

“Not quite.” AJ put a Hornets baseball cap on the snowman’s head, and a snowball in the twig fingers of his left hand. “There. Now he looks like something.”

And so did AJ. He looked brave and sad all at once, and his doggedness at trying to keep his chin up broke Bo’s heart. Where did he get that strength?

“High five,” said Bo.

“Good times,” AJ replied.

“Now can we go inside?”

“Whiner.”

Kim called the campaign to help Bo’s son “Operation AJ,” and for that, Bo loved her all the more. She and everyone else at Fairfield House wanted to help the boy with his fears and insecurities. He was like an accident victim, missing a limb, but that didn’t stop Kim from believing she could make things better. And sometimes it worked. Sometimes she and Bo were able to surprise and delight him, to bring a smile to his face. Unlike Bo, AJ had no aversion whatsoever to the snow, and he raced home from school each day to take part in snowshoe expeditions, making snow angels in the yard and snowmobiling in the Catskills Wilderness.

“So I was thinking this might be a good day for ice-skating on Willow Lake. When the weather’s clear and cold like this, conditions are ideal,” she said one afternoon. “What do you say?”

“I’ll pass,” Bo said.

AJ was perched on a kitchen stool, devouring his favorite afternoon snack—Cheetos. “I’d like to try.”

“It’s the bomb, AJ. You’ll love it.” She sent Bo a look of triumph, and within a short time, had everything organized. She even called Noah and Sophie Shepherd to invite them along. By now, Bo knew resistance was futile.

The lake was swarming with skaters, the sledding hill alive as kids dragged their sleds and saucers up and then sped down, hurrying before twilight fell. A few tourists braved the cold to photograph the town’s winter centerpiece, a house-sized ice sculpture in the shape of a colonial fort.

Kim fitted AJ with rental skates and led him out onto the ice. Her patient, protective way with the boy drew him out and gave him confidence, and before long, he was wobbling across the ice, laughing with Kim. Bo stood at the edge of the skating area, watching the two of them. If he squinted his eyes and opened his heart, he could imagine them as his family.

“Never thought I’d see you out here,” Noah remarked, joining him. “You used to be allergic to winter.”

“Still am,” Bo said, abashed by his own sentimental thoughts. “Good thing I don’t want any more kids, because I’m freezing my nuts off. I’ll be sterile after today.”

“Your boy sure loves the winter.”

“Yeah, who knew? But he’s not doing so hot. Since we heard his mom was deported, he’s…I can hear him tossing and turning at night. He looks pale to me, with dark circles under his eyes. I won’t lie to you, Noah. I’m worried.”

Noah didn’t make light of Bo’s concern. A gifted vet, he had a natural compassion for wounded creatures. However, when he spoke, it was as a father. “After Buddy and Aissa first came to us,” he said, referring to his children from Africa, “they had issues. Especially Buddy—he was five, which is old enough to remember too much.”

Bo was surprised. From his perspective, the Shepherds seemed like the all-American blended family. “What do you mean, issues?”

“All the violence,” Noah said. “The loss. They’re haunted by it. I’m not saying AJ’s experience was anything like my kids’, but that kind of separation, of loss, it cuts deep.”

Good God, thought Bo. Noah was right. AJ was showing symptoms of trauma. “What do you think I should do?”

“You’re doing it. Being here for him, helping him.”

As they watched, AJ tentatively joined a group of kids his age and Kim skated off on her own with the grace of an ice dancer.

“How’s everything else going?” Noah inquired. “The media training and stuff.”

“I had no idea how much of baseball was not about baseball. Oh, and I have the hots for my teacher.”

“I figured as much.” Noah didn’t seem