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long breath and shrugs, but doesn’t say a single word before he stalks into the dark and disappears among the tipped barrels and weaving, bobbing weeds.
    Ella’s voice bounces into my head. 
    You take him for granted.
    It was sweet of him to bring her home. He had to do, what, ten hours on that bike? And I bet Sadie didn’t even thank him.
    “Thank you,” I whisper into the cold, bright light, too little, too selfish, too late.
     
     
     

 
    Chapter Three
    I have a fresh pot of tea waiting when Mom bustles into the kitchen, a full face of makeup already on, even though we don’t have any plans to leave the house today.
    “You look tired.” She catches me under the jaw and moves my head back and forth, examining every line and blemish on my face. “Damn that fucking motorcycle.”
    “I’m okay, Mom.” I hold out her special Mrs. Claus mug, filled with tea sweetened with two spoonfuls of sugar and lightened with a drop of milk. “I went to bed too early, and I couldn’t go back to sleep once I woke up.”
    “You need to relax, maybe have a girls’ day. You should ask Georgia over. I don’t like the idea of her living in that apartment all by herself.” Mom sips her tea and leaves a sticky half-moon of fuchsia lipstick on the rim. “Eileen wouldn’t like it.”
    “Eileen helped her pick that apartment after Georgia graduated dental assisting school. I’m sure she’d be okay with Georgia living there.” I pick up a cookie, but my stomach isn’t in the mood. “I get that you want to make sure they’re okay, but Mrs. Toriello would have let them grow up, Mom.”
    My mom clinks her coffee mug on the counter and puts one manicured hand on her generous hip.
    “Sadie, I know you have a college education and all, but you don’t know everything, okay? Especially when it comes to mothers. Eileen worried about those kids like you wouldn’t believe. And, to tell you the truth, I’m a little surprised that you haven’t been more worried about Georgia. I can remember you running in that door so you could kiss me hello before you ran right back out to see her. What happened?”
    “Nothing.” I flick the sprinkles off a cookie, irritated by so many things my mother said, irritated by my lack of sleep, irritated by my run-in with Trent last night. “I don’t think I’m better than everyone because I’m in college. You would have done well in college if you went. I mean, it’s not like I’m smarter.”
    “You are smarter. When it comes to books.” She reaches for her tattered blue-checked cookbook and flips through the yellowed pages, spotted with grease. “When it comes to life? Sometimes I worry, sweetheart.”
    I sigh and jump down from the stool. “Okay. I’m going to see Georgia.”
    “Good girl.” She twists and grabs her keys, tossing them across the kitchen to me. “Pick up sour cream on the way back.”
    “Is anything open today?” Out the window, a light dusting of snow sifts down in powdery white bursts.
    “Everything is open. People have no fucking respect for the holiday.” Mom sighs, turns Elvis up, and scrubs the counter so it’s ready for another baking fiasco. “I guess it’s a good thing for us, though. The mashed potatoes don’t taste right without sour cream. Oh, and see if you can get some of those big bulbs in green. I put them on the tree this year, but all the damn green ones keep blowing out. Pieces of shit.”
    “Okay.” I lean over and kiss her powdery cheek. “Love you.”
    “Love you. Drive safe. If it gets too shitty, come home. And call Trent to remind him to come by for dinner tonight with you girls. It breaks my heart to think of him eating some TV dinner all alone.”
    At the sound of his name, I startle, wanting to tell my mother...what? Trent is always welcome at our house. I don’t want him alone during the holidays either. It’s just complicated.
    Which is exactly why it has to be hands-off between me and Trent, no matter what.
    I’m about to