Nic shook her head. “I think it was because of the way I let her treat me. And the reasons for that.” She started walking and Abby followed. “I haven’t told you much about my childhood. It was crappy all the way around, really. My parents were…well, they weren’t normal parents. They drank a lot.” Nic turned to her. “Falling down, screaming, and fighting drunk kind of drinking. So I never brought friends around. At first.” She looked away again as she walked. “Because later, I really didn’t have any friends to bring around. Most of the kids in school made fun of me.”

Nic stopped walking and looked up into the trees. “I was in the sixth grade. We were having this…this program. I was in one of the skits. I’d asked her to come. My dad was working nights back then, so I knew he wouldn’t make it. So, I don’t know, three or four days before the thing, I asked her to come. I don’t know why, really. I guess I wanted to be like other kids whose parents were active in their lives.” She reached out and touched a snow-laden branch, watching as the snow fell to the ground. “I’d begged her not to drink that day. Begged her.” She started walking again. “But no. She showed up late, making a scene. She was stumbling down the aisle, then laughing so loud, everyone stopped to stare. She fell into a man’s lap—the father of one of my classmates.” She held a hand up, as if to ward off old memories. “Anyway, after that, parents made sure none of their kids came near our house. Kids stopped being friends with me. Instead, they started making fun of me, calling me names.”

“Oh, Nic…I’m so sorry.”

“Truth was, I was always an outgoing person. Despite my parents, I was a happy kid. I was popular in school. Until that day. After that, I never felt good enough. And I was embarrassed to look people in the eyes. I knew then, even at that young age, that socially I was beneath them.”

“And so you think you’re not good enough for me? Not good enough to be here with us?”

“You have a normal family. You—”

“What is normal, Nic? Is my mother going absolutely bonkers over Christmas decorations normal? Is me not speaking to my brother for two years normal? Is having a father who’s so preoccupied that he sometimes forgets we’re around?” She touched Nic’s arm and squeezed. “I’m not trying to make light of your childhood, Nic. I’m not. And I’m certainly not saying that I can relate, because I can’t. Yes, I had a privileged upbringing. My parents were both very successful in their careers and I never wanted for anything, including their support—both emotional and financial.”