“Aw,” I say, soft, watching it happen. “You kept a picture of me?”
“I plead the fifth.”
“Oh, he absolutely —” Margaret starts.
And Stanley is gone, one stride across to her, an arm slung around her shoulders, steering her toward the noise ofthe gathering party. “Okay. Mingling. Big day. Many relatives. Aspen needs to get changed — isn’t that right, babe?”
The word lands warm in the middle of my chest. I nod.
“Perfect.” He points two fingers at his own eyes, then turns them on his mother, surveillance. “I’m going to get my parents under control. You go do your thing.”
Upstairs, my childhood bedroom is exactly how I left it. My carry-on is tucked just inside the door. I close it behind me and finally breathe. This room is going to be my safe zone.
I notice Stanley’s duffel isn’t anywhere in here, which means my father set him up somewhere, and that’s a relief.
I change into a black square-neck top, a brown plaid skirt, and the boots I find in the back of my closet. I lose myself for too long in the clothes of a girl I used to be, and then I sit at my old vanity and curl my hair. I’m halfway through when there’s a knock at the door.
“Come in,” I call out.
Stanley’s head appears in the gap.
“Hi,” I say to his reflection. “Come in.”
He lets the door swing, and his whole frame fills it.
“You okay?” I ask. “I’m nearly done.”
“I’m good. Your dad sent me up to collect you.”
“I’ve been listening to that doorbell go off for twenty minutes straight.”
“Yeah. Everyone’s arriving.” He leans a shoulder into the doorframe and folds his arms. “I found myself in three separate conversations at once down there, and you’d be proud of me. Not one of them was about hockey.”
“Oh.” I deflate a little, ashamed of myself. “I take the rule back. I was being ridiculous about it.”
“I figured you’d lower your weapons the second your mother told me what a beautiful pie I baked.” He pushes off the frame and crosses to me, and my breath catches as I watch him do it inthe mirror. He sets both hands on the back of my chair and grins at me through the glass. I can smell him from here, clean and warm and too close. “It’s going to be a fun night, Linwood. It’s all downhill from the pie.”
I take another strand of hair and wind it around the iron. Then I hold his eyes in the mirror, and I make the decision before I’ve finished thinking it.
“I’m following your lead tonight.”
His head tilts. “You are?”
“Yes.”
“Well, if that’s the case, then come on.”
I finish my hair and look in the mirror.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
I inhale, looking at myself. I grab my brush and brush out the curls. I put on my lip gloss and set it back down on the vanity.
“I don’t think I’m ready.”
He grins. “Come on. It’s time.”
Chapter 19
