I watched all the snow-covered pine trees zoom past outside as Santa’s train traveled the loop, and I even found the dim glow coming from the moon hidden behind a layer of clouds. The kids in the car had a blast once Santa showed up in his red suit and hat and started handing out treats from the bag he carried with him.

“Did you ride the train with your mom too?” I blurted out.

YES, Beau signed back. ALWAYS FUN.

COOL, I signed with a grin.

There was a moment of chaos when the lights in the car suddenly went out, but only because we’d reached the main event with all the Christmas lights. I moved up even closer to the window to get a better look at the elaborate scenes of Santa’s workshop, a gingerbread house, and even a few Star Wars characters, all made entirely of lights. The lights bathed the surrounding snow in a variety of colors—a spectacle in itself.

I ended up being so pulled in by all the lights, wanting to see more, I barely realized Beau was tapping me on the knee to get my attention.

“Sorry, what?” I said, turning to him.

The only source of illumination in the car was coming from the lights we were passing outside, far too dim for me to get a good look at Beau’s face to lipread what he was saying to me.

I signed, DON’T UNDERSTAND, as I shook my head, but Beau didn’t seem to be able to see me all that well either.

I leaned away from the window and scooted closer to Beau, my annoyance with this suddenly challenging conversation growing. Couldn’t they have kept at least one light on in this car?

“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” I told Beau apologetically.

I saw Beau raise a hand and I thought he was about to try and sign to me, but he put a finger to his lips instead, the universal sign for shhh. I must’ve been talking too loudly then, something I did a lot, because how was I supposed to know how loud I was being?

“Beau, what . . .”

Beau was leaning closer like he was attempting to lipread himself, but there was something different about his expression this time. I kept waiting for him to try to speak to me again or maybe even sign something, but that never came. There was only a breath of space between us left, and for whatever reason I didn’t make the connection that Beau was going to kiss me until his lips were actually pressed against mine.

For one second I sat there like a fish out of water with no idea what I was supposed to do. This was my first kiss, here in the middle of a darkened train car with Christmas lights outside. What was I supposed to do with my hands? With my face?