It flew. It flung itself sideways as if it never intended to land. Kaye sat in the middle of the backseat so she could look out the windshield. All she could see, though, was the flying snow. In the headlights it became a white wall. The white wall divided at the last instant to let them through. She checked the side windows of the car. There she saw only darkness. She turned back to the wall of snow. Kaye’s father gripped the steering wheel hard. Next to him, her mother leaned forward. She leaned and leaned as if she could get them to Gran’s faster that way. Christmas was waiting for them at Gran’s. Christmas and cookies and gifts and a ham so huge the four of them could barely make a dent in it. A Christmas tree would be waiting, too. The tree would touch the living room ceiling, only just leaving room for the angel. It would fill one whole side of the room. The tree would have about a thousand ornaments on it, too. Kaye’s favorite was the one shaped like a pickle. Gran always hid the glass pickle deep inside the tree for Kaye to find.
