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Lake in the Clouds, Colorado
SEATED ON A SOFAwith her feet propped up on an ottoman in front of a crackling fire, Genevieve Prentice wiggled her toes. The jingle bells on the tips of her woolen world’sBEST NANAslipper socks jangled.
Her sister, Helen McDaniel, was sitting beside her and jangled her own slipper bells in response. Her socks readAUNTIE!LIKE MOM, ONLY COOLER. Both women wore pajamas as they sipped their nightcaps and watched the clock tick toward midnight.
“So, admit it,” Helen said. “You’re glad I dragged you kicking and screaming to the party, aren’t you?”
“I wasn’t kicking and screaming.”
“Sure you were. You’ve never liked New Year’s Eve parties, but you enjoyed yourself at this one. Admit it.”
“I enjoyed myself,” she deadpanned.
“Oh, quit being such a scrooge.”
“You’re a whole holiday behind, Helen. New Year’s Eve is a fat little cherub in a sash.”
“Well, you don’t have chubby thighs, and no one has ever accused you of being an angel.”
Genevieve snickered and sipped her cognac. “You’re right. I did enjoy myself. The party was fun. Your neighbors at Mountain Vista Retirement Community are interesting people. Of course, the whole celebrating by London time was different, but it makes sense for partygoers who need to be in bed by seven o’clock.”
“Now, that’s mean. The party didn’t end until ten.”
“I was speaking about myself.”
Helen leaned away from Genevieve and gave her a considering look. “Hello. Light bulb moment. You have a big birthday coming up this year, don’t you? You’re bothered by it.”
“No, I’m not,” she lied.
“Balderdash.”
“Now, there’s a word right out of the old folks’ lexicon,” Genevieve grumbled.
“Oh, stop it. Sixty is the new forty. It’s middle age today.”
“There’s some new math. Imagine how loudly my knees will creak if I live to be one hundred and twenty!”
Helen tapped her lips with her index finger. “We should do something special for your birthday. Throw a big party.”
“I donotwant a party. Of any size.”
“Spoilsport. Something else, then, to mark the occasion. Maybe finally take a hot-air balloon ride with me? You’ll love it as much as I do, Genevieve. I promise.”
Genevieve snorted. “It’ll be a cold day in Austin in August when I go up in one of those death traps.”
Footsteps descending the staircase provided a welcome distraction, and Genevieve smiled up at her daughter, Willow. “Everything okay with the children?”
“Emma is fine. Sound asleep. Sledding with her uncle Lucas today wore her out.”
When Willow didn’t immediately follow up with a mentionof her son, Genevieve’s stomach sank. Poor little Drew had been having a time of it since summer camp. “And Drew?”
Willow sighed. “He’s awake. He says he had a nightmare about the accident.”
“Which one?” Helen asked.
“It was a combo nightmare about his dad and camp. And just when I’d begun to relax, too.”
A burning log split and fell in the grate with athunk. Flames flared, and sparks rose up the chimney. Genevieve lifted her gaze toward the second-floor bedroom occupied by her grandchildren during this holiday visit. They’d all worried that a return to Colorado might trigger another panic attack for Drew, a malady he’d suffered numerous times since that unfortunate business at camp this past summer.
