“December tends to be chilly. Although January and February are worse, and you, my friend, should know that by now.”
“There's nothing like Thunder Bay cold.” He backed out of my driveway. “But I’ve come to expect warmer.”
I chuckled. “Well, it’s British Columbia. Wait ten minutes, and the weather will change.” I considered. “Why are we the ones going to the Christmas Market?”
He chuckled right back. “Because we’re exchanging homemade gifts this year. Shaw is taking the girls to the Richmond Night Market next weekend. Since everything issupposed to be a surprise, I figured we’d do this market. Biggest one in Mission City all year.”
“Really?” I shook my head as he pulled into the parking lot.
And nabbed a spot near the back of what appeared to be a completely full lot.
“Nice job.”
“The high school’s parking lot is available as well. We just got lucky.” He brushed his lapel, as if buffing his nails, in self-satisfaction.
I laughed, loving his smile. And the flecks of silver in his goatee were far more pronounced than when we’d met four years ago.
God, four years.
Time had flown past as we’d watched our daughters grow. Adele was a year older than Paget and Sedona—and had always been far more mature.
I’d worried she might be a bad influence—she wasn’t an angel—but she took her role as pseudo big sister seriously.
We hopped out of the SUV and headed toward the rec center. I’d spent countless hours here watching Adele during her swim lessons. She’d even tried figure skating for a year. Nothing had stuck, and she much preferred video games. Since I wasn’t happy with that, the compromise was she would play recreational badminton. Understanding that playing with me would beuncool, I let her join a league of people I mostly knew from around town. An architect, a dentist, an elementary school teacher, amongst others. She tolerated my watching.
Barely.
I hunched my shoulders against the bitter wind. “How can it be so sunny and so freaking cold?”
Damien chuckled. “Try a northern Ontario winter.”
“Weren’t you just complaining about the cold?” I chuckled, then nodded gratefully as the person at the door held it open for us. “Hey, Blake, thanks.”
They smiled. “Hope to see you at Starbucks later. I’ll have your favorite latté waiting.” They glanced up at Damien. “Your coffee will be fresh.”
Damien grinned. “You’re too good to me.”
With that, we went our separate ways.
I was so reassured to see Blake happy. They’d struggled in recent years—without family support through their transition. Working at the local coffee shop, with a hugely supportive staff who felt like family, had made it easier for them. Well, as easy as life could be, given the cards they’d been dealt.
A jovial woman in a Santa cap was happy to take our admittance fee and to stamp our hands.
“Thank you.”
“Oh, my pleasure. Good cause.”
Damien and I stepped toward the hall. I gazed up at him. “Do you know which cause we’re supporting?”
“Does it matter?” He unzipped his coat. “Damn, I didn’t bring cloth shopping bags.”
“Oof. Neither did I. I suppose we could buy some.”
He winced. “I already have so many—” He considered. “—in the back of my SUV.”
I waved him off. “Go.”
“I’ll grab a couple for you as well.”
