For a moment I thought about telling her that he was, if only to gauge her reaction, but that would have been wrong, especially since I wasn’t certain it was true. One hand-hold does not a relationship make. If it did then Arthur and I would be in one, and we definitely weren’t.

“I don’t know, Mom. But he has all his hair and that puts him ahead of most of my friends’ dads in the looks department, that’s all I’m saying, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she does like him maybe a little.”

“She?” Her voice went up an octave. “Who’s she?”

I bit my lip. That “she” had slipped out, I swear, but it was too late now.

Sensing I was walking on eggshells, I hesitantly answered, “Arthur’s aunt.”

“Who’s Arthur?”

“A boy from my school, from Barrington. He and his aunt are here in Christmas and they’re staying at the inn and we all went on a reindeer sleigh ride today—”

“Reindeer??” She seemed both dumbfounded and upset.

“Yeah, over at Sedgewicks’ Ranch. They have reindeer now and we all went together—”

“Who’s ‘we’?”

“Me and Dad and Arthur and his aunt—her name’s Esha and she’s older than you and Dad but not as old as Grandma Jo, who also went to the farm, but she and Dr. Raymond didn’t go on the sleigh ride since there wasn’t enough room. Anyhow, the reindeer went nuts and we got taken on this crazy ride in the sleigh and everyone’s okay, but, you know, it was scary, and I . . .” I swallowed and felt unexpected tears prickle at the back of my eyes. “I really wish you’d been there.” I wiped my cheeks where tears had spilled over. “Not to be scared or anything, but . . .” I shrugged even though it wasn’t a video call. “Just because . . .”

It took her a long moment before she replied.

“I wish I’d been there, too.” Her voice was thick and it took every ounce of self-restraint not to blurt out something about any of the hand-holding, Dad and Aunt Esha’s, or mine with Arthur, but another part of me understood it would’ve been manipulative, even if all I really wanted was her reassurance that everything was going to be all right, no matter what happened.

“I miss you, Mom,” I said, my voice quiet and heavy, too, because that wasn’t manipulation, it was what was in my heart.

“Oh, Finley. I miss you, too. So very, very much.”

Eleven

I made it down to start my shift at the front desk with thirty seconds to spare.

I still got the stink eye from Ayisha, who looked from me as I descended the stairs to the grandfather clock in another part of the lobby.