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Keith had walked around Brick Pond three times, and his head was still an untidy tangle of thoughts and emotions. He kept his coat pulled tight around him, thankful he’d taken his mom’s advice and worn his thick gloves and the hat his grandmother had knitted for him last Christmas.
Of course, he could’ve listened when Mom had told him to stay the hell indoors on a day like this, but he couldn’t think straight, what with his sisters howling like banshees. So what if it was almost Halloween? So what if they were carving pumpkins?
He realized he was being mean-spirited. He’d been just as excited when he was their age. That made him smile. There was only a difference of four years between him and Heidi, and six between him and the twins, but in four months he’d be eighteen, an adult, and his memories of being Polly and Sandy’s age were already becoming dim.
He had other things to think about, much more important matters to occupy his mind.
Well, one thing, if he were honest.
One person.
Mom had other reasons for wanting him to stay indoors. The forecast promised snow, and everyone in his family knew what that meant. Keith could hear them in his head.
You shouldn’t be out in the cold, not with your weak chest.
You want another dose of the flu?
Seventeen years old, and already he had a history of viral illnesses, enough that his parents watched him like a hawk when winter rolled around, checking for any sign of the flu.
Then he froze when Michael Rawlings emerged from Fairview Cemetery, walking slowly, his head bowed, shoulders slumped.
Of all the people to run into, Michael was the only one that left Keith torn between pleasure and discomfort.
He has no idea what effect he has on me. Not that Keith was about to reveal how he felt—had felt for a year or more. But he wasn’t going to bare his soul, not when there was the possibility his heart could get trampled on.
Smashed.
Broken.
Michael raised his head and Keith knew the second he’d been spotted.
Michael’s smile could power Stillwater and maybe half of Minneapolis if it came to that.
Keith came to a halt and waited for Michael to catch him up. He didn’t have to ask what Michael was doing there. It had been around this time four years ago when Michael lost his dad, and they’d been close. Real close. Keith’s mom always said every parent had a favorite kid—the trick was making every kid think it was them. But there had been no disguising the fact that Michael had been the apple of his father’s eye.
Michael cocked his head to one side. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be—”
Keith fired him a warning glance. “Dude. Don’t go there, okay?” He had enough people on his back without his best friend joining their ranks. “I went for a walk to Brick Pond.”
Michael shivered. “As long as you weren’t tempted to go for a swim.”
“I was on my way home.” He grimaced. “Except sticking pins in my eyes would be better than suffering my sisters’ caterwauling.”
Michael didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. He wasn’t Keith’s best buddy for nothing.
“What about you? Where are you going now? Home?”
He nodded. “I’ve got pumpkins to carve.” His eyes gleamed. “I was actually gonna call you to see if you had any ideas. I didn’t want to do the same old face I do every year. And you are the artistic one, right?” His face lit up. “Besides, it’s just me at home. My sister is God knows where, and Mom went to visit my grandmother, Bill too.”
It might have been Keith’s imagination, but he felt sure Michael’s face tightened a little at the mention of his mom’s fiancé. The engagement had been announced in June, and while Michael made all the right noises, Keith suspected there was more to the story.
So ask him. You’re his best friend. If he can’t tell you, who can he tell?
“I could help you with the pumpkins,” he offered. And if no one was around, maybe they could talk.
Michael’s eyes brightened. “Yeah? Great.”
They headed for Everett Street South, walking side by side.
