After Meredith had appeared, Byron had explained that her plans in Connecticut had fallen through at the last minute—her parents had decided to visit her brother in Maine instead. So he’d gone ahead and just invited Meredith to the lodge instead of letting Aria and Mike be part of the decision.
“I know we’d planned for it to just be us three, but I hated the idea of her being home alone,” Byron had said in such a caring, concerned voice that Aria almost sympathized with Meredith, too. But then she’d looked at Meredith again. There was a crafty smile on her face, like she’d somehow orchestrated this whole scheme just to make Aria miserable.
The concierge had profusely apologized that their rooms wouldn’t be ready until after dinner, and so the four of them had toured the grounds for a few hours, looking at the dogsled track, the toboggan runs, and the skeet-shooting fields. Meredith had behaved like an old lady on the walkways around the resort, terrified she was going to slip on a nonexistent patch of ice. She’d made Byron spend forty-five minutes in the gift shop, picking out a perfect gender-neutral baby onesie. And she’d asked him to walk her to the women’s room the eleven times she’d had to pee. While they’d waited in the hall during Pee Break #4, Byron had given Aria’s shoulders a quick squeeze. “Are you doing okay?”
“Never better,” Aria had answered, her voice icy, resisting the urge to pull out her own hair.
Now, Byron picked up his glass of wine and held it in the air. “To the Solstice.” Meredith touched his glass with hers, and Aria and Mike reluctantly followed with their glasses of Sprite.
“Let’s go over the schedule of events for the next few days,” Byron went on after taking a hearty swig. “Tomorrow I thought we’d go on a nature walk and do the Circle of Trust.” He turned to Meredith. “That’s where we join hands in the woods and breathe together as one, welcoming the change of seasons.”
“Of course,” Meredith said, as though she’d celebrated the Solstice for years.
“We’ll definitely burn the Yule log that night.” Byron cut a piece of tofu lasagna and popped it in his mouth. He wasn’t a vegetarian except during Solstice time. “According to Scandinavian lore, burning it makes the sun shine brighter. And then the next morning, we’ll do the naked run.”
“A naked run?” Meredith’s brow furrowed. “You mean outdoors?”
Mike snickered lasciviously, then looked around the dining room. “I should recruit her for that.” He pointed to a pretty blonde eating dinner with her parents.
Byron dabbed his mouth with his napkin. “The naked run is very invigorating. We usually do it quite early in the morning so no one disturbs us. And we usually keep our underwear on,” he said with a smile. “Americans aren’t the most open-minded about these rituals.”
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea for me to run.” Meredith patted her stomach. “The cold might hurt the baby. Or what if I trip and fall on my belly?”
Aria leaned forward. “Ella always loved the naked run. She told me once that she even did it when she was six months pregnant with Mike.” She peeked at Meredith’s face. She looked crestfallen. Good.
Byron’s mouth twitched. “Well, that’s true, but maybe Meredith’s right.”
Meredith lowered her glass defiantly. “Never mind. I’m in.” She shot Aria a brief, sharp look that seemed to say, You can’t get rid of me that easily.
Aria turned away, her gaze landing on the Christmas tree in the corner of the room. It was decorated with tiny glass birds, strung kernels of popcorn, and white grosgrain bows. Presents were stacked underneath, and a model train circled the perimeter. A young couple and their two children, a boy and a girl of about four and six, stood in front of the tree holding hands. The father lifted the boy so he could get a better look at one of the bird ornaments. Aria couldn’t hear their conversation, but she definitely heard the mother say the word Santa.
Tears filled her eyes. That family was making amazing memories. Not long ago, her family had been making similar memories—okay, Solstice memories, which were kind of kooky, but at least they were all together. They’d been so happy in Iceland. It seemed like her parents had fallen back in love while they were there, but it had all come apart when they returned to Rosewood.
They finished their entrées and ordered a bunch of desserts to split, including tapioca pudding and crème br?lée, both of which Aria hated. When they arrived, Meredith breathed in, turned green, and pushed back her chair.
“I just have to . . . ,” she blurted, her cheeks bulging. She ran toward the bathroom and clamored through the door. Her retching noises could be heard throughout the dining room. The diners gazed in the direction of the bathroom in alarm.
“Nasty,” Mike said.
A porter in a red suit appeared at Byron’s side. “Sir, your guest quarters are ready. We’ve already taken your luggage there.”