“Oh, I couldn’t do that,” Patty said, although the invitation made her burn with happiness.

“Why not? What’s keeping you here? Everyone leaves Kansas, eventually.”

Patty did not like this kind of question, and so she did not answer. She just kept walking, following the clouds of her breath. A moment of silence passed as they trudged up the hill, their feet slipping in the sludge. Kurt had disappointed Madeline, and now so had she. Perhaps it was in their blood, this capacity for disappointing others. Maybe this is what Bryan meant when he said that Annette gave him hope—that Patty had given him the opposite. That when he looked at her, he felt like he was looking at a pool of quicksand.

Just as these thoughts were opening inside her, blooming as a field of ghostly moonflowers—the seeds of which had been there all along, underfoot—who should walk up in the distance, his hand inside the hand of another woman? Bryan wore corduroy pants and the scratchy red Pendleton coat she’d given him for his thirtieth birthday. Annette wore a pair of overalls and a floppy brown ski hat with a neon pink puffball on top. It was the kind of outfit a child would wear, but Annette still looked like a young girl—gangly limbs, round face, big eyes—and so could get away with childish wardrobe choices.

“Fuck,” Patty said.

“What’s he doing here?” Madeline asked.

“It’s sort of his land.”

Madeline smiled. “I see. And who’s the girl?”

“His girlfriend, I guess.” Despite everything, Patty hadn’t expected them to actually stay together. From what Bryan had told her, Annette had a serious boyfriend, a paramedic whom she planned to marry. Their affair was just that—an affair. But now, here she was. Her hand in Bryan’s hand. Her cheeks flushed from the cold. Of course. Patty should have known.

Madeline was at her side, her hand on Patty’s arm. “What do you want to do?” she asked, a bit too loudly, so that Annette turned around and faced them. Uh oh, mouthed Annette. Her lips were painted red.

Madeline grabbed Patty by the hand and the two walked quickly back to the car. Part of Patty wanted to stay—didn’t she at least deserve a Christmas tree?—but she trusted Madeline to guide her.

“I’m sorry that happened,” Madeline said. She had taken the driver’s seat—she was the kind of girl who knew what to do in a crisis. Patty felt a pang of sadness, that Kurt had ruined things with her.

“It’s all right,” Patty said. “I should have known better.” She rested her forehead against the window. She could see Bryan coming up over the hill. He was alone.

“I think he wants to talk to you,” Madeline said.

“I don’t want to talk to him.”

“Should we leave?”

“Probably.”

“Where should we go?”

Patty watched Bryan scramble down the snowy hillside. He was probably getting snow in his shoes. Good. Let his feet get wet.

“I’m pretty hungry,” Patty said. “Maybe we could grab something to eat?”