And hold on. What’s that?
I squint past his shoulder, out the window.
The world has gone white.
44
MY FANTASY
ROWAN
With my fingers pressed to the cool glass of the window overlooking the backyard—really, the forest—I listen to my mom and nod. “Sure, sure. I get it. I don’t want you to be unsafe on the road,” I say, even though I was really looking forward to tonight.
I had this whole vision in my head—my parents, Mia, Isla, all at dinner together. I don’t know why it mattered so much. It just did. Like some part of me needed to see Isla with my family.
But this snow, falling at the speed of light, is making that impossible.
“It’s coming down fast,” Mom says. “We just made it back to the cabin to grab the other ingredients when it started snowing.”
“We didn’t get my special sprinkles!” Mia calls from the background, and I smile. She wants them for her cookie class.
“Tell Mia not to worry. I promise I’ll get them tomorrow,” I say as my gaze turns to the window once more. “It’slooking like it’s going to be a white Christmas, that’s for sure,” I say, more pensive than I mean to sound.
“My favorite kind,” she says. “We hardly get them in San Francisco.”
“We definitely don’t,” I say, and that’s always been one of my favorite things about holidays in the city. The reminders of the season weren’t in my face. At least it used to be a favorite thing. Now, I don’t mind that the world feels like a Christmas card.
Imagine that.
But the other thing I don’t mind? Alone time with Isla.
I look over at her, where she’s playing tug-of-war with Wanda on the carpet, the alligator toy bouncing between them. Damn, she looks good there—cross-legged by the blinking Christmas tree she helped pick out, soft red sweater clinging just right, hair falling in loose waves. The way she plays with my dog is so easy. Natural.
Sure, dogs are like that. But Isla is too. She knows how to meet people—and animals, I guess—where they are. She talks to Mia about the things Mia cares about. She does the same with our mutual friends. Would she have done that with my parents?
Guess I won’t get to find out tonight.
I feel guilty even thinking it, but there’s a silver lining here—I get her all to myself.Again. I can’t seem to get enough of her, from the nights I spend at her place, to the moments I steal with her here and there, sometimes slipping away, like Mom said. I tear my gaze away and clear my throat. That familiar guilt creeps right back in, the one that always shows up when I wonder if I’m doing enough for Mia. “I’m sorry I’m leaving Mia with you again,” I say to Mom with a wince.
She scoffs. “Sorry? You think this isn’t our favoritething in the world? You’ve taken a few too many hits to the head, kid.”
I laugh softly, somewhat absolved. “Fine, fine.”
“Seriously. We love her to pieces. We always want to see Mia. We’re a package deal with this kid.”
Warmth spreads in my chest. “Thanks, Mom.”
She’s quiet for a beat. “And Rowan?”
“Yeah?”
“Make the most of tonight.”
She hangs up before I can say anything else—sounding way too pleased with herself.
I turn around, set the phone down on the kitchen counter, and head straight for Isla. She’s rubbing Wanda’s belly when I reach her. When she looks up, she says, “You’re hard on yourself, aren’t you?”
I wasn’t hiding the call, but I guess she heard enough. I sit beside her and take a beat. “Maybe I am. But is that a bad thing?”
