Main Street had not lost power, and the thermometer on the downtown branch of the Bank of Aspen Meadow read four degrees. Snow had filled the street's gutters with two-foot drifts that had been wind-sculpted into sharp-edged peaks. Streams of Christmas lights whirled in the snow and battered the windows of Darlene's Antiques & Collectibles and the Grizzly Bear Saloon. Seeing Aspen Meadow Arts and Crafts reminded me of the years when Arch and I had spent hours buying presents for his teachers. Arch had agonized over framed solitary gold-plated aspen leaves and pieces of bark painted with images of bull elk. When I'd asked him last week what cookies he thought I could make for his teachers this year, he'd curtly replied that The other kids aren't bringing the teachers gifts. Now I glanced at the decorated windows, and ached for those old times with my son, before what the other kids are doing dominated our lives.

"Arch," I said tentatively as he sipped his cocoa, "does Lettie have pierced ears?"

"Oh, no, Mom, don't start. Do not buy Lettie anything."

"I just asked - "

"Why do you want to know? Are you going to pierce them for her if she doesn't?"

"I just thought - "

"That you'd buy something for her for Christmas. The way you always do."

"Arch! I have never bought a female friend of yours a single thing for Christmas!"

"Remember those two Valentine's Days, when you went out and bought big baskets of candy and stuffed animals for girls you thought I was going out with?"

"But you were - "

He turned to face me. "I was not going out with them," he said fiercely. "I wanted to buy them bags of M&M's. But oh, no, good old Mom had to buy the most expensive baskets possible." His tone was scathing. "And then you were all upset when you found out I wasn't going out with the girl you just bought all that stuff for. Mom, you can't buy me a girlfriend."

I took a slug of cocoa and told myself to be patient. "I thought you told me Lettie was your girlfriend."

"Yeah, and I wish I hadn't told you anything."

"Arch!"

"Don't buy her anything!"

"Don't worry!" I shot back.

Arch turned toward his window with much aggravated shuffling of his down jacket. Suddenly I deeply regretted offering to take him snowboarding this morning, especially since I had just remembered Arthur Wakefield informing me that the mountain would be closed for a few hours for the Forest Service investigation into Doug's accident. I sighed and glanced at Arch. If he'd been so worried about me last night that he'd canceled his overnight with Todd, why wasn't he being nice this morning? Ah, adolescence. In any event, if Lettie wanted little silver pine trees dangling from her earlobes, the girl was out of luck.