“Just talked to Trudy. She said they had one more stop to make at the bakery for some pastry Sammi’s been craving, then they’ll be on their way home—not because they’re tired or anything.” He chuckles. “But because the stores all close at six on Christmas Eve.”

Those women could make an Olympic sport of shopping.

“You didn’t spoil the surprise, did ya, Wayne?” My father gives his best friend a knowing glare.

“Of course not…” Sammi’s dad rolls his eyes then huffs and hangs his head. “Shit. You got me, Ronnie. You know I can’t keep anything from her. She could tell in my voice that we were up to something.”

My dad shakes his head with mock disgust. “So whipped.”

As if he’s not.

“Cut it out, kids.” Dane grabs two of the snowballs he’s been molding and nails each of them in the chest. “You two bicker more than an old married couple.”

“Mrs. Trudy won’t spoil the surprise and now we’ll have a heads up when they’re on their way. It’s fine.” I hand the snowball mold over to my dad. “Get busy while me and Dane work on forming up some snow bricks.”

“What’re the bricks for?” Mr. Wayne trails behind me, probably trying to avoid getting chewed out by my father again.

“Gonna build some walls we can hide behind during the snowball fight.”

“This is genius.” He rubs his hands over his arms trying to ward off a chill. “You know, I always wanted to give the kids a white Christmas. We talked about it every year, but I never could peel myself away from work long enough to do it.” His lips purse in contemplation. “Nothing like facing your own mortality to make you realize all the shit you took for granted.”

I fire off a quick text to Dane to bring his dad a heavier coat and a chair, so my wife doesn’t kick my ass when she arrives to find her father’s teeth chattering.

“You were dedicated to your clients.” I pack some more snow in and smooth it over before plopping another brick to my growing wall. “You and Pops are two of the best damn lawyers this county has to offer. That work ethic gave us kids a great life.”

“Maybe…” He nods. “All I know is I’m gonna do things different with this second chance. Once I’m through kickin’ this cancer’s ass, I’m gonna travel the world with my wife.”

“Yeah?” Dane pops up behind him with a folding chair, his coat, scarf, and a blanket. “You won’t be kicking shit if you come down with pneumonia.”

I smother a laugh while the two bicker over him bundling up. There was a time not too long ago when Dane wouldn’t have dreamed of ordering his dad around.