I tugged at the scarf she’d made me wear. “Yeah. I talk to you every day. I spend the most time thinking about you and what you’re doing. You know me better than anyone.”
Abort, abort. You’re saying too much.I cleared my throat.
“You’re my numero uno bestie too,” she said as we kept walking.
“Last performance for the season. How do you feel?” I asked.
“Good. They sounded great. Even though they were all jacked up on the prospect of winter break starting. They’re good kids,” she said with a hint of wistfulness.
“What’s on your mind?” I asked gently.
She squeezed my arm and rested her head on my shoulder briefly. “The school year goes so fast. Soon, the seniors will be gone, and I don’t know. I guess I’m feeling sentimental with all the holiday stuff.”
“And what about Christmas? Did you ever reach out to your brothers?” I asked, wondering why she seemed sad. Normally, after a performance, she beamed with pride.
“Oh, um, yeah.” She fidgeted with her winter hat. “It’s Alice’s year with her family in North Carolina. She has a bunch of nieces and nephews, so the kids will have a great time. And since Mom and Dad are on a holiday cruise, Noah and Asim decided to use their miles to book a last-minute holiday in Switzerland. Very posh,” she said lightly.
But that meant she would be alone. My heart stuttered. She’d brushed it off, but this was a blow for Mari. It would be for anyone, but especially for her. She’d spoken so much of her distant family and her hopes for future plans. My heart absolutely broke.
There was no way she would be alone for even a moment if she didn’t want to be.
I stopped and grabbed her hands. “Stay with us. Over break.” I almost begged.
She blinked rapidly, lashes fluttering. “You don’t have to do that. It’s fine. I’m actually usually alone for the holidays. I don’t mind. I get a lot done.”
I absolutely couldn’t handle the thought of her alone at her apartment, combing through sheet music or entering grades, while forking a disgusting frozen microwave meal.
“I want you to. I’m asking you to.”
She chewed her cheek. “You don’t think Janice would mind?” Her voice shook as she asked, eyes damp.
I gave her a look. We both knew Janice would never mind. “I can check with her first, if you prefer.”
She deliberated as I made my case. “We have a fireplace. Plenty of books and puzzles. An at-home gourmet chef. You can treat it like a mini vacation. We have two extra bedrooms that are just sitting there.”
She stepped closer. “I don’t want to use the extra bedrooms.”
“Oh. Okay. No problem.” I’d been giving her space, but maybe I’d given her too much space. Maybe the spark that ignited a forest fire in me had burned out with the distance and time apart.
“I would want to stay in your room,” she added and swallowed. “Would that be okay?”
Electricity passed from my toes to my fingertips. “I would very much like that.” My voice shook.
She beamed up at me, and I bent to kiss her lightly on the mouth.
“Get a room!” Clara called as she passed arm in arm with who I thought was the football coach.
“I tried, but the Lodge is booked!” Mari called back.
I didn’t get their inside joke, but then again, I rarely did.
Clara threw her head back and laughed before whispering to the man on her arm.
Mari’s gaze returned to mine and never left, but I’m pretty sure she performed a gesture behind her back that I couldn’t see.
We shopped a little longer, getting gifts for Janice, Cath, Vander, Clara, and a few other people. That night, we packed up her bags—after a quick call to Janice in which I could feel her rolling her eyes at me for even asking—and I brought her to our house.
It felt so right and natural that I didn’t want her to ever leave. Yet I kept the words locked in, trying to be grateful for the week she’d stay with us.
