Frost by Wendy Delsol Page A

“us” was, but didn’t ask. “About time.”
    “Mostly because we’re working tomorrow.”
    I shrugged the hat over my head and exhaled my dissatisfaction.
    “At least I can go to the game tonight,” he continued.
    The varsity basketball game. Darn it. I reached a hand up into my scalp and scratched, one long, dramatic rake.
    “Super Stork flies again?” Jack asked.
    I nodded.
    “Game’s at seven. Your meeting isn’t until nine, right?”
    I shot him a brow-stretcher of a look. “I am not sitting in the bleachers with this thing.” I pointed at my head.
    “But I finally have a night off.”
    “And I don’t.”
    “Can’t we ever just have a normal night?”
    Honestly. He, of all people, wanted to have
that
conversation? “I’m going to Afi’s to hide for a while.”
    “You want some company?”
    “Love some.”
    Walking down Main hand in hand, it occurred to me that it didn’t matter where Jack and I were — a basketball game or behind Afi’s cash register — I was happy just being with him. We passed by the bookstore; Paulina, Ofelia’s sister, came to the door.
    “I have that book you were looking for, Kat.”
    I pulled Jack into the warmth of the store. The floor-to-ceiling books had a slightly musty smell to them, but Paulina, as a counterattack, sold soaps and candles. Today I detected a lemon verbena aroma holding at bay something Twain or possibly Poe. I scratched under my hat. As promised, the condition was finally becoming more tolerable — but, still, a ridiculous way to communicate.
    “Here it is,” Paulina said, handing me a spine-cracked copy of
The Snow Queen
from a shelf in the kids’ section.
    “A little young for you, isn’t it?” Jack asked.
    I’d already read the story off the Internet, but somehow my designs were coming up flat. I was hoping the picture book would inspire me.
    “I guess I’m a kid at heart,” I said, running my hand along a display of beautiful children’s books. My palm came to a halt atop a blue train with a smiling face —
Thomas the Tank Engine.
I lifted it and quickly flipped through the pages. The scenes were of a quaint countryside, a busy train yard, and a round-eyed happy engine named Thomas.
    On impulse, I placed it on top of my other book and headed for the register.
    “I kinda get the first one, but what’s up with the trains?” Jack asked.
    “It’s for a friend,” I said, confusing even me.
    “No one I need to be jealous of?”
    “What? You think I’m two-timing you with a younger man?”
    His eyes narrowed.
    “And buying my boy toy gifts in your presence?” I continued.
    Jack looked away. He seemed genuinely uncomfortable with the conversation. Seriously though “boy toy” was funny. Lighten up already.
    Paulina rang up my purchases.
    “I’m enjoying getting to know your sister,” I said as I pulled money from my wallet.
    “She likes the work,” Paulina said.
    I raked at a bothersome patch near the nape of my neck. “It’s been a big help while Afi’s recovering. We were lucky she showed up the very day Afi had decided to hire someone.” I stowed the two books in my satchel and pulled it over my head in an across-the-shoulder fashion.
    “Craziest thing,” Paulina said. “I’d just spoken to her a few days before, and she was talking about changes she wanted to make to her garden. Next thing I knew, she was on my doorstep with all her earthly possessions claiming she’d been called home. Called by whom, I’d like to know. It wasn’t me; and there’s only me.” Paulina shook her head. “She always was a free spirit.”
    Back out into the cold and bleak afternoon chill, I kept my hands buried deep into my pockets and my head down, fighting more than just a headwind. Words like “earthly” and “spirit” gave me the willies.
    Only Afi was at the register when we stamped our snowy boots at the front mat.
    “Can you work?” he asked me after I’d untwisted the scarf from my cold cheeks.
    “Yeah.