“I do,” I reply hesitantly, because I have a feeling I know where this conversation is about to go.
“You’ve made friends.”
“I have.”
“And you like Arlo.” Lark turns to me, wagging her red brows at me. “Like, like him.”
Despite myself, a blush blossoms across my face. “Oh, look, there’s Deputy…” I snap my fingers, unable to recall his name. There’s just so many people here to remember. Okay, I think like five hundred and something, but aside from my social media accounts, I can’t remember everyone’s names.
“Davis,” Lark supplies. “You are deflecting.”
“Make any friends?” Of course I’m deflecting. I don’t want to talk about Arlo and the easy camaraderie we share, and how he just fills me with peace, even in silence. I’ve already decided not to rush to Maine when Robin leaves. Isn’t that enough for now?
“Torrie,” Lark answers as we pause to cross the empty street. “A few other kids as well.”
“How many are in your class?” I wish I’d thought to ask her the question earlier. In a small town like this, there can’t be that many people in her grade.
“Nine.” Her little face contorts. “Including Torrie and me.”
“So what about the other seven kids?”
Quicker than I thought possible, she places a finger against my lips. “I’m not six. W e don’t schedule play dates at twelve. I will be a teenager next month,” she hisses, glancing around before she drops her finger and shudders a bit.
“Okay, so no play dates,” I tease her, sipping my coffee. “What about the Friday night movie?”
“It’s so cold.”
“Ah, there’s your southern blood.”
“Torrie keeps telling me it’s warm,” she grumbles. “It isn’t warm, but I’m anticipating my first Wonderland, and of course the possibility of a blizzard in January.”
“What?” My arm drops, splashing coffee out of my cup. “Blizzard?”
“Blizzard.” She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, and perhaps that word is what finally breaks me. “You know, like lots and lots of snow.”
“How much snow are we talking about?”
“Enough snow that they use snowmobiles to get to school.”
“They don’t close the school?” I remember the one time it snowed in Georgia and they shut down the entire state. We just aren’t built that way.
“Not unless it’s over three feet.” Why do her eyes sparkle when she says that?
“No, no. This can’t be real.” I am not buying a snowmobile.
Reading my thoughts, Lark quickly pushes forward. “Don’t worry, Saffron has four snowmobiles.”
“That doesn’t make the situation any better.” I stumble over to a park bench and flop down, the iron chilling me to the bone.
“Usually when that happens, Seraphina, Arlo, Autumn, and even Willow come home to the B&B, and they all hunker down for the blizzard.” Lark sits beside me as Davis gives us a dirty look for backtracking to the bench.
“You mean they willingly come home for a blizzard?” I glance around the town, trying to imagine it covered in snow. Feet of snow. They don’t measure snow in inches here but feet. How is that normal?
“Well, yeah, but it’s only for a few weeks until the snow gets plowed and they get ready for the next storm.” Lark’s face drops below my eye level, concern flashing across those beautiful eyes of hers. “You okay?”
“Between storms?”
“Mom, did you not look up the weather in Maine? It’s even snowier there.” She shakes her head. “You rushed on to the north, not realizing the amount of snow.”
