“Still no.”
Janice huffs and stomps her foot like a disgruntled reindeer. “Honestly, Ethan. You could use some social interaction. People worry about you up here.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re alone.”
“I prefer it.”
She narrows her eyes. “Is this because it’s Christmas?”
A muscle ticks in my jaw. “No.”
She softens a little. Barely. “Ethan … it’s been years.”
“And?”
“And maybe it wouldn’t kill you to come down the mountain once in a while.”
“It might,” I deadpan.
She groans loudly, then tries a different angle. “Okay, look. If you help us out — just this one time — I’ll make sure the council reviews your pending land claim.”
I stop mid-swing. Slowly, I straighten and turn toward her. “What did you just say?”
She lifts her chin, sensing she finally has my attention. “Your dispute over the Larkspur Ridge boundary? You’ve been fighting the town over that for what … five years now?”
“Six.”
“Well,” she says breezily, “if you participate in the auction, I will personally — personally — bring your case up at the next council meeting. I’ll support validating your map survey. And I’ll recommend the town drop opposition and accept your claim in full.”
Cold air whooshes past me, but suddenly I’m warm. Very warm. My parents’ land. The ridge line they walked. The boundaries they marked by hand years ago. The piece of ground every lawyer has tried to tell me isn’t “properly documented.” This land is all I have left of them. And Janice knows it.
“You’re serious?” I ask, voice low.
“As a heart attack.”
She reaches into her oversized purse and pulls out a folder. “I already have the new draft ready to submit. If you help us, I file this. If you don’t…” She tucks it back into her bag with dramatic flair. “Then we continue to argue for another six years. Or ten. You know how slow these things can move.”
My pulse thuds, heavy and slow. This is what I’ve been pushing toward. Waiting for … fighting for.
One stupid auction. One night. For the land that belongs to me.
“Fine,” I say. “I’ll do it.”
Janice lights up like the town Christmas tree. “Wonderful! Oh, Ethan, this is going to be marvelous. The ladies will be thrilled.”
I frown. “I’m not doing anything ridiculous.”
“Of course not.” She hesitates, then adds way too sweetly, “Just wear flannel and a Santa hat.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Oh, you’ll look fantastic. Like a rugged holiday dream.”
“Janice.”
“Nope, too late, you agreed.” She waves her hand as if signing away my sanity. “And don’t worry … you’ll be the featured item.”
