Chapter 68

“When do I get a turn up there, so you can push?” he asked looking up.

“Turtles don’t fly. Hurry. They’re freezing!”

Patrick laughed at me. “Hold on,” he grumbled. “Here we go!”

Back up front, I hopped off to the ladder from the six feet mark, all the way down to the floor. Patrick cringed. “I took gymnastics as a kid.” I kissed his nose, after climbing back up two rungs to bring us eye to eye. “Relax.” With the mannequin’s hand in mine, I dropped to my knees. “How do we thaw them?”

“Body heat,” Patrick said. “We’ll hug them back to life.”

We brought the two together and hugged as a foursome, until, within a matter of seconds, silly suddenly became sad.

“Maybe a kiss,” Patrick said, “like Sleeping Beauty.” He planted a chaste one on Calvin, and though I stood on my tiptoe and did the same to fake Jefferson, my heart wasn’t in it. My head wasn’t. Make believe had lost its appeal, because my heart was broken.

“I don’t want to play anymore,” I said.