I feel a pang and have to stop walking, rub my arms. “It sounds fun, but I can’t take notes while I’m on a snow machine.” I shift my weight; the idea puts me into free fall. Remembering my time with Tate is something I want to keep with me.

Beside me, Sefina inhales, touches my arm. “Claire,” she says evenly. “This is about giving you experiences—and you deserve to have experiences—to enjoy it in the moment, as Alice is so fond of saying.”

That diverts my attention. “Alice?” My hand slides to my pocket, but in my mittens and snowsuit, I can’t find it.

“Alice lives here now; she’s sober and kind, and she loves you. I didn’t know the woman who drank for years, but I can promise you that the woman she is today is exactly the kind of mother I imagined would have raised someone like you.”

The news of Mom living here doesn’t hit me as hard as I’d expect. “Someone like me?”

She elbows me. “Yeah, kick-ass and strong, but she’s a much better baker.” I can hear her smile in her voice. “No offense. But, hey, look at you! You just trusted me to tell you about Alice without having to look at your note card or notebook.” She squeezes my arm. “Progress.”

We keep walking, my mind repeating the activity. We’re going snow machining with Tate. Snow machining with Tate. “Whose idea was this?” I wonder out loud.

“Yours, actually. Tate asked what kinds of things you’d like to do on a date, and this was one of them. He said that Vance used to take the two of you sledding behind the snow machine. Said it was some of his best memories from his childhood. He’s a great guy, Claire. And he’s got all kinds of adventures planned for you.”

My face burns now despite the cold, and a sinking feeling pulls at my legs. It’s not hard to put it all together. Tate and Sefina. Of course. She’s beautiful and kind and lovely and normal. My head falls toward my chest. My two best friends, and now they watch out for me, make sure their brain-damaged, pathetic friend goes for a walk. I should be happy for them, not feeling sorry for myself. I breathe in and smile behind my gaiter. “That’s great, Sefina; I’m really happy for you.”

“Happy for me? What?”

“You and Tate. It’s great, really.” I start to walk again, but Sefina pulls at my arm to stop me.

“Wait, hold up. You’ve got it all wrong, Claire.”

I shake my head, look at my feet instead of her. “No, it’s okay. You two are both amazing people. I mean, I don’t know him anymore, but I know you, and I always knew that he would grow up to become a good man.”