On the other side of the octogenarians were Molly and Marley, twin sisters from New York who had come to Credence with the influx of women during the summer. There were also Jenny and Wyatt and a very excited Henry, who was chattering on about the hog they were going to carve from the ice. With them was Wyatt’s mom, Veronica Carter, one of the town councilors.

The last block of ice had been reserved for Simone. Yes, her mother was judging the comp, but everyone agreed they wanted to see what she could do with a frozen medium, and Simone, always happy to play to an audience, graciously agreed. She and Suzanne’s father were currently discussing the block of ice, their conversation animated, their bodies close. Maybe the closest Suzanne had seen them in a long time.

Maybe things were changing for the positive between them?

“I presume you’ll be creating something phallic?”

Suzanne started at the authoritative voice behind her, turning to find Arlo looking all tall and hot-cop imposing as he peered at Winona.

“But of course,” Winona said, plastering a sweet smile on her face. “I’m thinking giant dong. Every ice-sculpture competition needs at least one. What do you think, Suzanne?”

“Oh yes.” Suzanne nodded, trying to keep her laughter in check. “The bigger the better.”

He scowled at Suzanne. “Do not encourage her.” Then, turning to Winona, he said, “Try and keep it PG, huh? Let’s not traumatize the kiddies.”

Winona rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she said, sighing dramatically. “What are you doing here, Officer Spoilsport? Didn’t picture you as a patron of the arts.”

“Crowd control.”

An inelegant snort slipped from Winona’s mouth. “You expecting the great Credence ice-sculpture riot or something?”

Suzanne tipped her head in the direction of Bob and Ray still fighting over the hedge trimmer. “I’d have thought we’d need paramedics more than the police,” she said.

Someone was going to lose an ear if they kept it up.

Arlo glanced across and shook his head. “Oh for the love of—” He cut off abruptly, shooting a quick “PG” in Winona’s direction before he nodded at them both and said, “You have a nice day now, ladies,” and striding off to intervene in the impeding bloodbath.

“Jackass,” Winona muttered under her breath.

Suzanne laughed, but it was cut off by Don Randall, the mayor, in his full mayoral robes and chain, calling everyone to order and running through the rules of the competition. “Okay then,” he announced finally. “You have two hours to complete your work of art, which will then be judged by our guest judge, world-renowned sculptor Simone St. Michelle.”

The crowd clapped and cheered as her mom took an impressively artistic bow.

“Are we ready?” Don asked, bringing the applause to an end.

“We’ve been ready for ages, you fool,” Bob called. “Get on with it.”