The bird flew off from the branch as Snowball jumped headlong into a snowdrift. Julie didn’t seem to notice. Her scarf was hanging around her chin and neck, and she was beaming. He liked her smile.
“In the summer,” he said, though his voice was pitched low enough not to spoil the moment, “there’s a pond here. And a big rock my mom and I used to sit on. When I was a kid, I had a stutter.”
“You did not!”
“I did,” he insisted. “It mostly came out when I was reading out loud in class. I dreaded being called on. So, Mom would make picnics and take me out here in the summer, and we’d read to each other until the stutter went away.”
“Then the reading stopped?” Julie sounded sad. Her face was tipped up to his, the tip of her nose pink with the cold. Her mouth was cherry-red.
He forced himself to look away and shrug. “Not at first. But as a teenager, I thought I had better things to do.” Remembering the way he’d brushed her off, he inwardly winced. “I wish I hadn’t been such a little idiot.”
“I’m sure she loved you, idiot and all.”
He snorted. “Yeah. I know she did. I just thought… I thought I’d have more time with her. We started the picnics again after she was diagnosed with cancer, and we moved to Barrington Lodge so we could all look after her on bad days. But she had more bad days than good in the end, and she stopped feeling well enough to make the trip.”
He felt Julie’s hand tighten, felt the whisper of her words across his exposed skin as she said, “I’m sorry. But I’m glad you have those memories of her, now.”
“Yeah.” It felt weird, being grateful for a part of his mom that was so far in the past he hardly ever thought of it anymore. “I’m glad I have those memories too.”
Gramps and his dad had been so keen on forgetting the bad memories that Nolan had stopped remembering the good ones. He hadn’t come to this clearing once since his mom had died. He didn’t even know whether the pond was still there or whether it had dried up. It would be a pity if it had dried up.
Maybe, in the spring when the snow had melted, he could come back with a book and read to himself. Or even out loud, even if there was no one to listen. Those picnics with his mom had helped to shape him into the person he was today, and he didn’t want to forget about them. He didn’t want to forget about her.
“Thank you for showing this to me.”
He only wished it was summer, when Julie could have seen it in its full glory. But no, she wouldn’t be here come summer. If he came to the clearing again, it would be alone.
Still, he didn’t drop her hand, didn’t drop that connection between them. He held on to it, on to her, for a few more minutes and murmured, “Thank you for listening.”
Chapter 23
“Don’t you dare climb up that tree!”
Kringle was feeling much better today if his boisterousness was any indication. He showed no signs of a limp at all as he jumped up from the base of the tree. Julie lunged to catch him before he clawed his way up the trunk and sent pine needles all over the living room floor. With the agility only a cat could perfect, he twisted to land on the built-in window seat instead. The wide branches blocked her from snatching him off. It was almost as though he was taunting her.
She scowled. “You’d better not ruin the tree. It’s the only one I’m likely to get.”
Unconcerned, Kringle folded his front paws beneath himself and stared out the window.
The sun hadn’t set, but it was moving in that direction, spreading long fingers of golden-orange light across the snow. Julie had waited as long as she could but now arranged the last boxes of decorations, those due to hang on the tree, by its side. There was something a bit lonely about doing this alone. She decorated her artificial tree alone, of course, but it was a fraction of the size. It took five minutes of her decorating time. And even Julie had to admit, with only herself to impress, she skimped on the decorations.
Not this time. This time, the tree would be as magnificent as she hoped the rest of the house had become. She had so many memories of decorating a tree in exactly this spot with Gram and Gramps.
But she wanted everything to be ready by the time Gram arrived the day before the party. That included making sure the tree was decorated.
Also, she just couldn’t wait. She’d run out of other things to clean and decorate, and if she didn’t do something, she was going to go crazy waiting for the plumber to call.
As she dug through one of the bins to find a string of lights, the cat on the windowsill made a tittering sound. She straightened and looked out. On the porch rail was a cardinal, preening itself. Kringle made that funny noise again, his attention riveted on the bird.
“I’m not letting you out to terrorize that bird.”
Kringle ignored her. The bird ignored him.
Shaking her head, she returned to the box.
This time, when she reached for the lights, Kringle let out a hiss. And then she heard a dog bark. Julie’s heartbeat quickened. She peered around the pine branches to see Kringle had arched his back. The frolicking white dog in the yard had chased away the cardinal on the rail.
And where that dog could be found…
