Between her mother’s sullen mood and now Nic, who seemed to be brooding about something, the morning was getting gloomier by the minute. Perhaps being outside in the fresh snow would brighten things up.

They hadn’t quite made it out when she heard a bedroom door open upstairs. Without turning around to see whether it was Holly or Aaron, she hurried down the last few steps to the front door. She held it open for Nic, then closed it quickly behind them.

The morning was gray and dull as thick clouds hung low, still dumping light snow on them. She pulled the wool cap from one pocket of her coat and put it on her head. Their boots crunched on the driveway, and she led Nic around the cars, out to the road.

“It’s so quiet,” Nic said. “You can almost hear the snow falling.”

“Yes. Close your eyes. Listen.”

She did as she’d just instructed Nic to do. It was cold and still, no wind to disturb the quiet. She lifted her face up, feeling snowflakes hitting her cheeks. She knew she was smiling, and she finally opened her eyes.

“Beautiful.”

Abby turned, meeting Nic’s gaze. “Yes, it is.”

“I was talking about you.”

“Oh.”

Nic smiled and turned away. She walked out into the snow toward the reindeer. She spread her arms out. “Is this normal? The decorations out here?”

“Yes.” She stared at the snow clinging to Nic’s dark hair. “Do you not have a cap or something for your head?”

“No.”

“We can buy one in town. You’ll be more comfortable outside with one.”

Nic nodded as she turned in a circle, her eyes filling with wonder as she took it all in. Then she bent down and scooped up a handful of snow. Abby watched her, noting her healthy, tanned skin, even in December.

“Come around here to the side. I’ll show you the bird tree up close.”

Nic surprised her by taking her hand and pulling her closer in an affectionate embrace. “We have an audience,” Nic said quietly. “Someone is peeking out the window by the front door.”

“Is it her?”

“I can’t tell. I assume.”

“She knows we’re faking it.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because she knows the type of women I date.”

“Ah. And I’m not one of them.” Nic stepped away from her. “I guess we should have gone with doctor or professor then.”

Abby took Nic’s hand before she could walk away, leading her to where the bird tree was. “Like everything else, my mother goes all out for this tree. Air-popped popcorn gets strung with dried fruits. And she makes these suet cakes with cookie cutters shaped like wreaths and Christmas trees and stuff.” When they rounded the side of the house, she stopped. “Nic, I’m sorry. I—”

“Wow. That is pretty cool. How long does it last?”