Page 117 of Hot As Ice

I kiss the top of her head and she snuggles closer to me.

“Don’t go home tomorrow,” I say.

She laughs. “Don’t be silly.”

“I need you to get me through the next week of parties.”

“You’ll be fine without me. You’re a big boy.”

“I’m just a baby.”

She tips her head back to look at me, grinning. “You are ridiculous.”

We watch 15 more minutes of the movie, and then I say, “I hate New Year’s Eve.”

Stevie sits up and stares at me. “What? Why?”

I shrug, eyes on the TV.

“Everybody loves New Year’s Eve. It’s fun!”

I shake my head. “Not me.”

“I don’t believe it,” she says, snuggling against me again and turning her attention back to the movie.

Ten minutes later, I muster up the strength to say, “I hate it because it means the start of another year without my mom.”

Stevie doesn’t react at first. Then she grabs the remote and pauses the movie. Sitting up, she looks at me very seriously. “I didn’t think of it that way. I’m sorry.”

“I would never expect you to make the connection.”

“You must miss her so much.”

“I do.”

“Was she wonderful?”

“Yes.”

“I wish I could’ve met her. When did she die?”

“When I was eight.”

“Oh my god, you were a baby.”

“Yeah.”

“But you have good memories of her. Right?”

I nod. “Most of them are great. Some are awful.”

Stevie grabs my hand and squeezes.

I think about my mom every day. I miss her every day. Every night, I hope she will visit me in my dreams. I visit her grave, alone. I celebrate her birthday, alone. I talk to her in my head every day but talking about her with someone else is lifting a weight off me I didn’t even know was there.

“I saw her die.”

Stevie sucks in a breath. “Oh my god.”