“That sounds like fun, too.” One of her most interesting discoveries as a mother was that, apart from the physical resemblance, her child was nothing like her. She was an individual. A person in her own right, with a personality all her own. She wasn’t a mini version of Christy. They weren’t even similar. Getting to know her was an enchanting voyage of discovery. “You didn’t get cold?”

“I had hot chocolate. And then we came back here, and we decorated the tree.”

Christy felt a pang that she’d missed that part. “You did a great job.”

“Yes. And they were pleased they kept me alive. They said so.”

Seb laughed, and so did Christy, because there was something hilarious about the way Holly repeated what she’d heard with no filter.

“So earlier,” she said as she moved one of the puzzle pieces, keeping her voice casual, “when you mentioned that they loved each other and that you were going to be their bridesmaid—”

Seb gave her a sharp look. “What?”

“It was something Holly said.”

Holly put her arms round Suka. “Can we have a dog?”

“Maybe. We’ll talk about it. But, Holly—” she felt slightly guilty about interrogating her child “—what made you say that?”

“I love Suka. I want a dog like her.”

“No, I mean what made you say that Alix and Zac love each other? What made you think you could be their bridesmaid?”

“Because they kissed,” Holly said. “And it lasted forever.”

They’d kissed? They’d kissed? And Alix hadn’t shared that with her?

Christy rocked back on her heels and then sat down hard on the floor as if someone had pushed her. And that was how it felt. Something had happened between Alix and Zac, and Alix hadn’t shared it with her. And it was no good telling herself that there hadn’t been opportunity because there had been plenty. They’d talked several times a day, even if only briefly before the phone was handed to Holly. But they’d talked. And they’d messaged. And Alix had said things like It’s beautiful here. You’re going to love it and Holly built a huge snowman. But what she hadn’t said was I kissed Zac.

Why?

The first time she’d kissed a boy—Michael Something, she couldn’t remember his second name—she’d told Alix. And Alix had done the same with her. Alix had always been open about her romantic encounters (she refused to call them relationships). She’d told Christy about the date she’d had with the doctor from Boston, the one-night stand with the tech genius she’d met in a bar. She’d told Christy that if she ever met a man she thought she could spend more than an evening with, she’d let her know. She’d told her all these things.

But she hadn’t told her that she’d kissed Zac.

14

Alix

Alix dumped her case in the living room of their new cabin.

It had felt so awkward with Christy. Had it really been awkward, or was her brain intensifying something that didn’t exist? Because it was always on her mind, she was no longer able to judge whether she was exaggerating the problem or if the tension was real. It didn’t help that she had so little confidence in her ability to solve a relationship problem of any kind. She’d felt nervous, to the extent that she actually felt relieved to be alone with Zac. He made her laugh, and the tension was of a different kind.