“Yup.”

“Cool. Well, maybe I can come to one of your games while I’m here.” Then I coughed, realizing what a blatant invitation I’d just issued for myself. “I mean, I’m looking for stuff to do with Brett. He likes sports.”

“Right. You know, I could try to teach him a few things. Even if he is named after a Green Bay Packer.”

“That was his dad’s idea. He’s from Hudson.”

“Yeah, I know Luke. He’s a nice guy.”

“He is,” I agreed. “So, would you like some more coff—”

“Sean? What are you doing here?” Gretchen limped into the room, wearing a terrycloth robe over her sleepwear.

“Having some coffee and talking to your sister.” He turned to me. “I didn’t get your name.”

“Kirsten,” I said.

“Did you just get up, Kirsten?” Gretchen stared at me as if I had colored my hair green, or gotten a strange piercing. “Why are you in your PJs?” she said in a disapproving tone.

“Look, I didn’t plan on going outside. Then I got locked out,” I said. “It’s a long story.”

“More like the same old story.” Gretchen laughed. “When she was little, Kirsten was always running around in her PJs.”

Oh no you don’t, I thought. You are not about to tell an embarrassing story on me.

But she was, of course.

“Kirsten even went to school in her PJs once. The school called and they were like, hello? Your daughter is wearing Care Bear footies.”

Sean laughed.

“But that was last year,” I joked. “I got sick of Care Bears.”

Sean just looked at me and didn’t seem to get it. Then he got to his feet. “I’d better get going. Nice to meet you, Kirsten. See you around, okay?”

“Definitely,” I said. “Thanks for, ah, the coffee.”

“You made the coffee.”

“Having coffee, I meant. And the shoveling,” I said. “Good work, excellent work.”

“Well, have a good day, okay? See you later.”

As Sean went out, Bear came running into the house. He stopped in the front entryway and shook his fur, sending ice and snow flying everywhere.

“Kirsten, could you grab a towel and get some of that cleaned up?” Gretchen asked.

After I closed the door, I turned around to face her. “Sure. But did you have to tell him that bit about the PJs?”

“That’s nothing,” she said. “Couldn’t you have warned me that we had a guest, so that I didn’t come out of my bedroom wearing a robe?”

“He’s like…seven years younger than you are,” I said.

“So what? That doesn’t mean I want to look horrible when I see him. I could kill you.”

Likewise, I thought. “If you’re that concerned about a teenaged boy liking the way you look…I don’t know, Gretch.”

“Well, obviously you’re not concerned,” she replied.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Gretchen made a sweeping motion to indicate my outfit of flannel.

“It’s not my fault,” I said. “Bear’s the one who bolted and jumped all over Sean. I wasn’t planning to run outside wearing this.”

“You should get dressed as soon as you get up,” Gretchen said. “You should brush your hair and get your makeup on.”

“It was seven in the morning! And I didn’t know you had hired a…a…shovel boy.”

“Shovel boy?”

“You know what I mean. Besides, I don’t really wear much makeup.”

“Yeah, well, that’s because you got the good-skin gene in the family,” Gretchen complained. “You got Mom’s golden skin. You’re like the perfect Norwegian goddess.”

“Excuse me?” No one had ever called me a goddess before, and I was pretty sure no one would ever do it again, either. Could she at least do it while Sean was still hanging around? And in a very loud voice, with the door wide open? Just shout it: Kirsten is a goddess!

“It’s not fair. You get to be the cute one,” Gretchen complained.

“Me? All I ever hear from Mom is about how beautifully you dress and how gorgeous you are and how she wishes I could be put together like you,” I said.

“Oh. Really?” Gretchen’s mood suddenly perked up a bit.

“Yes,” I said.

She laughed at herself. “It’s hard to look put together when all you can wear is sweatpants,” she said. “One, because your other pants don’t fit, and two, because you can’t fit anything else over a cast.”

“But, ah, you make it look easy,” I lied. Then I ran into the kitchen to fetch a mug of coffee for her. “So. What do you have planned for today? Anything?” I asked when I went back to the living room.

“I was thinking maybe we could go shopping—check out the New Year’s sales.”

Why am I not surprised? I thought. “Sounds good. Hey, Gretch. Does Sean—does he live around here?”

“Two blocks over that way,” Gretchen said, pointing. “Isn’t he nice?”

“Yeah,” I said, snuggling back under the fleece blanket. Nice and nice-looking, I thought.

“He’s really sweet, not to mention easy on the eyes,” Gretchen added. She looked at me as if she were expecting something—for me to completely agree or to start telling her how attracted I was to him.

“He’s okay, I guess,” I said with a shrug. The last thing I wanted to do was let Gretchen know I was interested in Sean. She’d turn it into a project of hers. Or turn me into one, rather. Maybe later, if things worked out…but not yet.

Chapter 4

Gretchen and I hit the Ridgedale Mall running—and, in her case, swinging on crutches—in search of clearance items. Well, at least I was hunting for sales. She didn’t seem to care about the sales as much as having me drive her to the mall and look after Brett while she shopped.

I was sensing a pattern to my days here that could last for the next month in its entirety.

Fortunately for all of us, the mall had a play area where Brett could run around and scream, and where that was expected rather than frowned upon. He had several partners in crime.

I’ve never met anyone who likes to shop as much as Gretchen does. She even drives my mom nuts with as much time as she can spend at a mall, which is saying something. My mom and Gretchen were at the Mall of America’s grand opening and consider it a pivotal moment in their lives.

We met up in the food court for lunch at noon. Gretchen ordered a Diet Coke while I had a burrito and Brett had a quesadilla, which he insisted on ordering himself, only he pronounced it “cheesy-dill-ah” and I had to translate for him.

Afterward we stopped by a table advertising something called the Polar Bear Plunge when Brett grabbed a keychain off the table before we could stop him. The logo showed a polar bear wearing a scarf, in the middle of doing a dive.

“Sorry,” I said as I got Brett to put the keychain back.

“No problem. Have you signed up yet? It’s next week, so you still have time to get lots of pledges,” the guy manning the table said.

“Pledges?” Gretchen asked.

“It’s a fundraiser for the Special Olympics,” he explained. “You jump into White Bear Lake, you jump out—you’re done.”

“And…it’s next week,” I said, the reality of how cold the water I would be sinking in…sinking in.

“Wow. That’s a great idea to raise money.” Gretchen smiled at him.

I picked up a brochure and skimmed it. I’m not the kind of person who accepts dares just to make a point, but I was almost tempted to sign up. I mean, if it was time for me to start being more outgoing—after all, that was part of my New Year’s resolution—I couldn’t be more outgoing than to jump into freezing cold water with a bunch of strangers.