Chapter Twenty-Seven

“You almost hit that old lady!” Michael shouted, and though the woman never even turned to see what was going on, Melody could just imagine what might have happened if the wayward projectile had knocked her over.

“I think that’s enough snowballs for now,” Reid said, walking over to them, cautiously, as Michael still held a snowball in each hand. “But,” he said putting his hand on Melody’s shoulder, “I owe you. And I never forget a debt.”

Melody broke into a sheepish smile. “It was his idea,” she said, gesturing at Michael with her head.

“Oh, I know. And he will pay, too,” he confirmed, eyeing his son in a playful, but menacing way.

“You’re silly, Dad,” Michael said, clearly not frightened by the threat.

“Why don’t you drop that snowball, tell your friends goodbye, and let