I glance across the bar where Lyra is perched on a high stool, talking animatedly to Kate McKibbon.
And Sophie Laz.
There’s no way I’m going over to talk to Lyra now because then I’d have to make conversation with Sophie, and that is… different. Difficult.
I have no idea why I have trouble talking to Sophie. There’s no reason—Sophie is nice. She’s… nice.
She’s a lot of things, but nice comes to the forefront of my mind. She’s nicer than Abigail and I didn’t have a problem talking to her.
Sophie is also cute, with a sprinkle of freckles across her nose, and smells like citrus and flowers. I liked the way my hand fit on her hip when we danced.
She lives in Battle Harbour and will undoubtedly continue to do so for her whole life.
There’s no way I’m going to talk to Lyra.
I turn to look down the table where Tanner’s wide hockey shoulders almost blocks Abigail from view. Tanner was the last manstanding on The Suitorette and won the heart of Abigail, over both me and Basher.
Not only has Fenella moved to this snow-covered place that’s colder than my mother’s heart, she’s makingfriendshere. With everyone she meets.
People love her here.
And I know all Fenella wants is for people to love me just as much. But it’s not as easy because I’m not as easy, or kind ornice.
The keys jingle.
“Hey, Abigail,” I call down the table.
Her curly head pops out from around Tanner’s bulk. Oh, goody, she’s even wearing one of the dresses I picked out for her during our shopping date on the show.
“How’s it going?”
Abigail breaks into the biggest smile, like I’ve stopped her on the street and offered her an all-expense trip somewhere warm. “Really, good, thanks. How are you?”
Instead of answering, I turn to Fenella. “There. Happy?”
My sister drops the keys into my outstretched hand. “Be back before he blows out the candles,” Fenella instructs.
“Maybe. But I’m not talking to anyone else.”
3
Sophie
Imanagetopullmyselfout of my funk with Kate and Lyra’s help.
Also, a few drinks might have done the trick.
So when I finally say good night after the cake and the singing and Fenella making a nice speech that somehow made the night all about her, I’m back to smiling as I walk home.
And thanks to the few drinks, it doesn’t feel all that cold out.
The town isn’t a busy one, but when there is something like Silas’s party going on, the downtown square can be a noisy place. Considering the January temperatures, it’s not uncommon to find groups wandering around the streets, with drunken singing waking up those in the second-floor apartments over the stores.
Unfortunately, it’s also not uncommon for cases of frostbite after a big party weekend. Years ago, after Jonathon McKibbon’s twenty-first birthday celebration that involved a pub crawl to four of the five drinking establishments, they found Morrie Chester frozen where he’d fallen into a ditch outside town and passed out.
Miraculously, doctors revived him, but he’s never really been the same since.
It’s January, and it still feels like Christmastime even though most of the trees are gone. Lights are still lit on fences and houses.I can see stockings through the windows even though they’re deflated and empty.
