“I don’t know.” She rubbed her cast with her wrist. “Do you think I can handle it after all this time off?”

“Gretchen. You can handle anything,” I said. “I’ve been watching you handle stuff since, you know. Forever.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. So tell me about it,” I urged.

“Well. Since you got here, I’ve been doing a lot. You probably didn’t notice, you were either too busy with Brett, or out with those guys. Maybe you were really focused on yourself, not me,” she said. “Did you ever think of that?”

I shrank down in my chair. She had a point. Whenever I focused on Gretchen, it was to find fault with her constant shop & spend & sofa mode.

“Anyway, first I went to a career counselor, and I found out what I really wanted to do.”

“You did? When?”

“The first week when you were here. I asked you to drop me at the doctor?” she reminded me. “And all those mornings that you went to the bakery, I was doing online job hunting, while Brett watched ‘Sesame Street.’ And whenever you took Brett places? I tried to do phone interviews, and work on my resume, send out letters and stuff.”

“So, wait a second. You’ve been doing all this over the past month while I’ve been here? Seriously?” I asked. “What’s the interview for? Is it a job you really want?”

She nodded, and smiled. “It’s retail management.”

“What else,” I said. “Of course that makes sense!”

“That day we went to the Mall of America, and you took Brett to Camp Snoopy, I went to a few stores. It wasn’t easy on crutches, but I managed,” she said. “Anyway, this would be to roll out and manage a new store, at a different mall.”

I just sat there, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. It made complete sense: The woman who was born to shop and spend would now help others do the same thing. And she was great at it, and now she’d get paid for it. And I’d helped, even though I didn’t know about it. But, wait a second, I thought. “Did Mom know about this?” I asked.

“Yes. It was her idea that having you here might help me get around to doing the job search. She said she’d give me a month to get my act together.” Gretchen leaned back on the sofa and sighed. “She was very un-Mom-like. She didn’t say anything about things working out—she said the only way to make that happen was to work them out myself.”

“But…you did break your leg, right? Or was that fake?” I asked.

“Of course I did!” She laughed. “But it’s not as bad as they thought. It should be okay in another couple of weeks. Then if I can just find a daycare that will work with my hours.”

“I’ll stick around until you do,” I said.

“But don’t you need to get back home?”

“Yes. And no,” I said. “We can work something out.”

“You are the best. Even if your waltzing sucks. And your taste in boys is questionable at best. And you’re only staying so you can be with Conor.”

“That’s not the only reason,” I said. “You know that, right?”

“I think so.” She smiled. “Now what did you bring home in that bakery bag, because I could go for something sweet.”

“You wouldn’t like it,” I said.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she said.

“Okay, fine.” Before I went into the kitchen, I leaned down and gave Gretchen a hug. “I’m really proud of you. I’m sorry you were worried tonight.”

“It’s okay.” She hugged me back. “I’m sorry I’ve been a pain lately. Now run.”

Chapter 21

When I got up Thursday morning and looked outside to check the weather for our trip up north, I saw Sean sitting on the front steps. Maybe it was a mirage, I told myself as I looked again. I hadn’t slept much the night before, because I was so excited about the trip.

What was he doing here? This was awkward. Was his shovel broken or something? Or was he here to tell me that Conor couldn’t go away with me—that he and I were back on instead?

I opened the front door a crack. “So, did it snow?” I asked him.

“Oh, hey, Kirsten.” He glanced over his shoulder at me. He had dark circles under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept all that well either. “Good morning.”

“What’s up?” I asked. “Are you okay?”

He got to his feet. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Well, do you need something?” He wasn’t here to try and win me back or something romantic like that, was he? He had this serious, distressed look on his face, his forehead semi-creased with worry.

“I just wanted to talk to you for a minute,” he said. “Do you have time?”

“Clearly,” I said. I was standing there in my sweats, having decided to sleep in clothes that might not always look like pajamas from now on. “Do you want to come in?”

“Could we sit out here?” Sean asked. “I don’t really want to see Gretchen or Brett, if that’s okay.”

“That’s cool. I’ll be right out,” I said. I grabbed my jacket from the hook on the closet door and put on my boots. Looking at them reminded me of the Snow White costume. Hopefully Sean wouldn’t have the same memory.

I grabbed my mittens and went outside. Sean was sitting on the porch swing, so I went over to sit beside him.

“First of all, I want to apologize,” Sean said.

“No! I should be the one apologizing,” I said. “I know I should have been honest with you, when I felt like I was kind of, I don’t know. Like maybe Conor and I had more in common and…I just really liked you and I’d already said I’d go to the dance and the cabin with you, so…”

Ugh, listen to me, I thought. I was sounding a lot like Emma Dilemma. I love the girl, but I didn’t want to emulate her dating style. “Anyway. I’m sorry if I was rude at the party, or worried you that night, or any of that,” I said.

“I’m sorry, too,” Sean said. “I was just…I liked you and everything. I mean, you showed up here in town and you’re funny and cute, I thought, well, I just wanted to hang out with you. And then I saw that Conor liked you, and when I realized there were like a hundred reasons to like you…I felt like I had to go out with you, instead of him.”

We sat there, swinging back and forth for a minute. I wondered if he felt as stupid about this as I did. There was no reason we couldn’t go out with each other, but there was no reason we should, either. We just didn’t have that intense connection, the way you should if you’re going to spend that much time with someone and, like, make out with him.

“I guess what I want to say is that, despite everything that’s happened, I really like you,” Sean said.

I stopped swinging. What?

“That’s why I have to tell you something. It’s really, really important.”

“Okay…” I said slowly.

“As much as we argue, and fight, and criticize each other? Conor’s a really good guy. You can trust him.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Yeah?” I asked.

“Yeah. For sure.” He nodded. “But if it turns out you can’t? And he’s awful to you? You know where I live.”

I laughed. “Are you seriously going to be that nice to me?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“I think you’re too nice,” I said. “That’s why you have all those girls around you all the time. You have to be a little, you know, discriminating or something. Be mean to a few of ’em. Thin the pack.”

“Thin the pack? What am I, a wolf now?” Sean slid off the swing and caught the chain to keep it from whacking me. “I know we act like jerks to each other, but he’s still my brother. I’d stick up for him over anybody. Even when he does stupid things like walking out on a team.”