“I should have learned how to ice skate at some point,” Rivi says. “I’m sure I would have been a graceful gazelle on them.”
“Plenty of ice gazelles in Maine,” I say. “You have to watch out for them when you’re driving at night. Totally wreck your car if you hit one.”
We are standing out on the ice of a pond near the house where Hunter and I live, watching some people in the distance ice fishing. The pond is big, what I would have called a lake in the days before I moved here, when I didn’t know better. It’s been so cold for the past few weeks that the ice is thick enough that I’ve seen snowmobiles driving on it more than a few times, although I couldn’t ever see myself doing anything like that. Not growing up in a cold climate like this, I don’t care how thick the ice is. All I can think about is how cold the water beneath it is.
“I don’t know where Boone and Tina got off to,” I say. “They were out of the house before we got up this morning.”
“Doing secret things, probably,” Rivi says. She slides the toe of her shoe across the ice. “They’re all about secret things these days.”
“You mean like flying across the country for a visit here without telling us they were coming? You were in on that secret. Are you in on whatever secret they’re up to right now?”
“Sebastian,” she says. “Would I tell you if I were?”
I nod. “Oh, definitely. You’re terrible at keeping secrets.”
“I am, aren’t I?”
“I’ve known you for a thousand years, Rivi. Do I really have to answer that?”
“Harsh,” she says.
“But accurate.”
“Still harsh.” She turns around and starts penguin-walking across the ice in the direction of the shore. I walk beside her, ready to catch her if she slips. “Is giving you a clue the same as telling you what their secret is?”
“Probably,” I say.
“Even if it’s only a small clue?”
“Pretty sure it is.”
“What if I write it on a piece of paper, show it to you, and then eat it?”
“Still counts as telling secrets.”
“What if you lean down here and I whisper it into your ear?”
“Still telling,” I say.
“Well, crap,” Rivi says. “I guess I have to keep my trap shut then, don’t I?”
“If you’re trying to start a New Year’s resolution to not tell other people’s secrets, then probably.”
“I never said I wanted to do any resolutions, Sebastian.”
“Neither did I,” I say. “That way lies failure and madness.”
We step off the ice and move carefully up the embankment to where the car is parked, just off to the side of the road. There’s very little space for cars along the shore here. I have mountain goat genes, so I get up first, then help Rivi the rest of the slippery way.
“They’re looking at houses,” she blurts out, and then slaps her hand over her mouth in mock shock. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”
“Looking for houses? In Maine?”
She nods. “Just in the next town over. They found a really great old place that’s almost as big as yours.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Nope. Everybody misses you guys, dummy. It’s not the same out there without you. Plus, the entire state is on fire every year, so there’s that.”
“This is insane. Why didn’t they say anything?”
“Because they wanted to surprise you, obviously.” Without warning, she gives me a hug, squeezing tight enough to make my spine crack. “It’s a big house, Sebastian. They have a room for me until I find a place.”
“So. You’re all moving to Maine, and nobody thought to tell me about it ahead of time?”
“Correct.”
“You’re all insane.”
“You moved first,” she points out. “You set the insanity bar high.”
“Well, shit,” I say.
She nods. “Don’t tell Boone or Tina I told you. It’s supposed to be a secret.”
“You are so terrible at secrets, Rivi.”
“I know.” She slides her sleeve up and looks at her wrist, where there is no watch, because she never wears one. “It better not be too late to start making some New Year’s resolutions, because oh my God, do I really, really need to start.”