Page 2 of Edging Desire

“I know. I’m sorry, Mom,” I say as I reach into the trunk and grab my bags. I then slowly follow my mom into the house. The feelings of comfort and nostalgia assail me. “It smells good in here. You know you didn’t have to cook for me, though. I would’ve been happy with a sandwich.”

Her head swivels back at me, and she brings up her index finger to point directly at me. “My baby has been away for four years. Do you think I was gonna let him have a sandwich?”

“I’m twenty-seven years old, Mom—hardly a baby. But thank you for cooking. You know I love your chili.”

“Of course, sweety. I’m just so happy you’re finally home. Now put your things down so you can eat. It’s getting late.” Her spry feet move quickly into the kitchen, where bowls are already laid out. She scoops her thick chili into the waiting bowls and sets the food on the kitchen table. After wiping her hands on the apron draping the front of her dress, she sits at the table and motions for me to do the same.

I sink gratefully into the chair. “Smells so good. I didn’t realize how hungry I was,” I say as I start to devour the bowl of chili. Mom was always a great cook. “It’s not often I get a home-cooked meal.”

She smirks at me. “Hmph. Well, you know whose fault it is.”

I pause with the spoon halfway to my mouth. “Don’t start. I haven’t even been here for five minutes.”

Her eyes widen with pretend surprise. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. I’m just saying you could visit home more often. I miss you. Your brother misses you, too.”

I force my voice to be calm. “You know that’s not true.”

“Have you even talked to Todd? In all these years, have you talked to him even once?” she demands.

My shoulders lift in a shrug. “I send him birthday cards and Christmas cards. I’ve done my familial duty.”

Her eyes catch mine. “So you don’t know, then.”

I roll my eyes at the drama in her tone. “Spit it out, Mom. Obviously, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She doesn’t look at me when responding. “Your brother and Winny are no longer skating together.”

“Todd and Winny broke up?” Shock hits my entire system. My brother and Winny have always had an unbreakable bond. To hear that they are no longer skating together, no longer competing, is something unthinkable.

“Well, I’m not sure what you mean when you say broke up. But, yes, they stopped skating together about two years ago.”

My forehead wrinkles in confusion. “But why?”

“If you’re curious, maybe you should ask your brother.” She leans forward to scoop another mouthful of chili into her mouth. “He’s going to be here over the next several days. It would be a good time for you to talk.”

“Ugh, I’ll think about it.”

“Think hard, sweety. You and Todd aren’t just brothers. You used to be best friends, too. I don’t know what happened between you guys, and I don’t need to know. You’re only going to be here for three weeks, so I suggest the two of you hard-headed idiots get over your little tiff and work things out.”

My breath puffs out in a sigh. “Okay, Mom. I’ll see what I can do, but no promises.”

Her lips curve into a happy and relieved smile. The dull ache in my chest is amplified when I see the hope light in her eyes.

So much for no promises. Looks like I’ll be making amends with my brother, after all.

Chapter 2

Winny

There’s something about Christmas in Winter Ridge that always feels so special. It’s not just the hot cocoa, the Christmas lights, or the carolers. It’s the way the residents all come together and create something special and magical every year.

My heart is full of anticipation as I look around the town square. Vendors are setting up booths to prepare for the festivities that surround the tree-lighting ceremony in two weeks. The ceremony and festivities are later this year because of the early winter storms, and there seems to be even more excitement than usual. My favorite booth, the hot cocoa booth, is offering sugary delights to all the visitors of the town square.

And, of course, I’ve already snatched up a cup of that sugary goodness—my flavor of choice: dark chocolate, hot cocoa with whipped cream and a caramel drizzle. The sweet smell entices me to bring the cup to my lips for a taste. The heat of the hot cocoa lights a fire down my chest as I take a too-fast gulp of the scalding liquid.

“Ooooh, that burned.” I squeak out.

“I told you it was hot. You’re supposed to sip it slowly,” the boy behind the hot cocoa stand chides.