My legs feel heavy and I want to sit down, but I tell myself that I know this, because Ruth would never lie to me about something like that. Dad died from a heart attack. I inhale, repeat it silently while we walk the rest of the way against the wind, fighting to keep our layers in place.

Harriet pulls open the door to Whiskey Pete’s, and I’m met with warm air layered in fryer grease and popcorn oil. Our boots squeak across the sticky wood floor when we make our way to the bar. Pete stands with his back to us, pouring beer from a wall tap into a smudged pint glass. He turns, raises one eyebrow.

“You three look like the zombie apocalypse if zombies couldn’t hack the cold.”

Harriet laughs, unwinding her scarf and setting her earmuffs on the counter. “Nice to see you, too, handsome.”

Ruth unbuttons her coat first, leaving her scarf in place so that her eyes are the only visible part of her, making her look more like a mummy. “You’re lucky to have us, Pete.” She swings her head around the mostly empty bar. “We’ve just tripled your sales.”

Once we’ve finally shed our layers, we choose a table by the bar, loading our coats and mittens and scarves in the empty fourth chair. I lay out my phone, open my notebook and pen. Harriet places a paper boat full of popcorn in the center of the table, and Ruth sets down three glasses of sweet iced tea.

“Your mom is playing the guitar for the open mic tonight,” Ruth says. “She’s not half-bad, actually; she even sings too.”

My mouth falls open and I touch my pocket, pull out a note card with three facts, feeling a pang when I read each one, freeze when I see the one about Tate. He’s a father now.

Harriet leans over to me, her eyes bright. “You remember the time you snuck out to come here with Tate?”

“Of course,” I say. “I had to sneak out because Dad had grounded me for something or other.”

Ruth shakes her head. “Both. He grounded you for something and the other. You and Tate were such troublemakers.”

I shake my head. “I don’t know how you put up with us.”

“The two of you waltzed right in here like you owned the place. Somehow you’d forgotten how small this town is and that Pete knew you were grounded. He called Vance when you were trying to pick a song from the jukebox.” Harriet shakes her head with a laugh. “Was that after the time Vance found you smoking pot with Tate?”