Snow Globe

I stood in the doorway and watched the pair climb into her car. Through the windshield, I saw Tamara's lips move as she looked between me at the door and her brother in the passenger seat. He sheepishly avoided her gaze, then met my own and waved. She shook her head as she put the car in reverse and backed down the driveway.

I took a deep breath and returned to the house and my evidence-concealing loads of laundry.

A couple weeks later, John and I were returning from Saturday afternoon lunch. A package bearing a New York return address was waiting on my doormat. I cocked my head in brief confusion; I couldn't remember ordering anything. I picked the box up as I unlocked the door and let us in.

"What do you think it is?" John asked as he walked to the fridge. He turned, twisted the cap off a beer and leaned against the kitchen counter.

I studied the address, trying not to betray elation as the clues pieced together in my mind. "Not sure..." I murmured, mostly to myself as I cut the tape with a key.

The cardboard flaps opened, and I dug into the Styrofoam peanuts. My fingers found a smooth, curved surface of glass. I gripped the glass ball and took it from the box. The white flitter swirled inside the snow globe as I set it on the table. Inside the dome, a miniature forest landscape led up the sides of twin snow-capped mountains. I raised my hand to cover my smile at the inuendo.

"Oh, I didn't know you ordered souvenirs." John remarked disinterestedly as he walked to the couch and turned on the TV.

I reached into the box and found an unsigned card:

"Unforgettable white-covered peaks!"