“Lucy, she’s not gonna pick us,” Mandy says.
“It’s okay, we’ve got Trout to give us kisses,” Lucy says.
“Sorry, guys,” I say, laughing.“Merry Christmas?”
We all hug, then I put my hand in Hunter’s and we head off in the opposite direction from Lucy and Mandy.
“I like them,” he says.
“Which ones?”
“All of them,” he says.“Even Mandy, once she stopped being afraid to talk to me.”
I laugh.
“Ishouldgo with them and pack for visiting your parents,” I say.
“It’s one night.Pack in the morning,” Hunter says.
Lodgepole is quiet, and even though it’s not that late, even the streetlights are off and everything is lit by the moon.The whole town has an old western feel already, made older-feeling by the night.
“There’sno onearound,” I say.
“It’s Christmas Eve,” Hunter says.
“It’s still weird,” I say.
He pulls me into the middle of the street and we walk down the dotted yellow line, looking into dark store windows.It’s only a couple of blocks to his apartment, where we hang layers and layers of cold weather gear in his entryway before we walk inside.
I walk into the kitchen, grab a glass of water, and lean against the counter.Hunter does the same, standing next to me, and I lean against him.
“I haven’t packed atall,” I say, and sigh.“Every time I go on a trip I promise myself I’m gonna pack ahead of time, and then I never do.”
“Make sure you take yourMinion of Satant-shirt,” he says.
“Not funny,” I say.“They’re either gonna eat me alive or not speak to me atall.”
“I think they’re getting better,” Hunter says, slowly.“And if it’s really awful, we don’t have to spend the night.”
“I know,” I say.“I just hate feeling like I’m coming between you and your parents.”
We saw my parents for Thanksgiving: my dad and his brother the day of, and then we went to my mom’s house a week later.I’ve still never told my mom that I know what really happened, but she’s finally started talking about something besides my dad.
The thing she’s really into now is birdwatching, but my God, I’ll take anything.
“As long as you’recoming,” he teases, his voice low and slow.
“Ew,” I say.
He puts his arm around my waist, and I lean my head into his shoulder.
“There’s something I should tell you,” he says.
“They’ve converted to Wicca,” I guess.
“I told them we were engaged to kind of smooth things over,” he says.
I drink some water and consider this for a moment.
