I point at Mirror Katherine. “Tighten up. We cannot afford to go soft right now. Not until we find a way out of this mess. It doesn’t have to be pretty. We can pick up the pieces later.”
Mirror Katherine merely gazes back at me, bemused, like she’s a couple steps ahead of me on the Christmas Carol journey and has already had goose with Tiny Tim.
I make a sound of disgust and flip the light off so I don’t have to deal with her. Heading toward the stairs, I slow down when I hear Tom’s voice coming from his bedroom, and I wince, braced for Lolo’s voice to follow, but it’s not hers. It’s his mom’s voice, and they’re both speaking in hushed tones.
My feet slow even further until I stop beside the cracked door, not close enough to be seen, but just close enough to eavesdrop.
Don’t judge me.
“Thanks for this, Mom,” Tom says.
“Oh, don’t be thanking me. All I did was get it out of the safe. That ring is yours, Tom. For your wife. I was surprised you gave it back to me in the first place.”
The ring! My ring.
Except, not anymore.
My stomach clenches with the awful realization that he plans to propose to Lolo tonight after all.
Tom is silent for a moment, and I can picture him turning the ring box in his hands, frowning. Brooding.
“It didn’t feel right to keep it. Not after the divorce,” he replies finally.
“And it feels right now? To take it back?”
This time, Tom doesn’t hesitate. “Yeah. Yeah, it really, really does.”
My breath comes out on a pained whoosh as the tiny seed of hope that Bob planted dies a slow, agonizing death at Tom’s confirmation.
He’s proposing to Lolo at midnight. With the ring.
I close my eyes and inhale as quietly as I can while still trying to steady myself. See? I tell that idiot version of myself I saw in the mirror. This is why we don’t go soft!
I’m taking a step backward so I don’t get caught when a soft “hey” sounds directly in my ear.
I jump. “Jesus!” I turn to face Kayla, Tom’s youngest sister. “Good God, you’re quiet!”
“Extra-padded socks. The ones you got me last year!” She kicks out a leg to show me.
“Shh!” I hiss at her too-loud voice. “Also, I got those for running, not espionage.”
“Me espionage! You’re the one spying on Mom and Tom.”
“I’m not—”
“What’s the scoop?” she whispers, leaning toward the cracked door where Tom and his mother continue to talk. Due to Kayla’s appearance, I’ve missed whatever they’re saying, and I’m glad. Probably the wedding date.
“What’s the plan. Off Lolo?” she asks, looking at me over her shoulder.
“What?!”
“You know.” Kayla bugs her eyes and drags a thumb over her throat.
“Yeah, I know what ‘off’ means, Kay. And I thought you guys liked her.”
She shrugs. “Of course we do.” Then she grins. “We like you better.”
Before I can think of a reply, Tom’s and Nancy’s voices get closer as they approach the door. Kayla, God bless her, puts a hand on my chest and shoves me backward into the neighboring bedroom she used to share with Meredith, and I duck out of sight.
“Kayla.” Her mother’s voice is censoring but resigned. “What are you doing hovering outside your brother’s bedroom?”
“Reliving the good old days,” Kayla chirps. “Remember that one when Mom and Dad were at a New Year’s party and you were supposed to babysit, and instead you invited Jess Vaughn over, and you didn’t close your door all the way, and I saw—”
“You want to play that game?” Tom interrupts. “How about we tell Mom about that time after your high school graduation, when—”
“Truce!” Kayla says loudly. “Truce, truce, truce. No more!”
“Thought so,” Tom says, his smug, older-brother voice growing more distant as the three of them make their way down the stairs.
“Oh. Hey, Lo!” I hear him say. “You got a sec? I was thinking we could go for a quick walk before dinner.”
“Sure,” Lolo says, her voice coming closer as she climbs the stairs. “I was just going to grab my phone from the charger. But I’ll get my coat and hat too and be right down.”
I wait until I hear Lolo rustling for her stuff before I emerge from my hiding place and step into Tom’s room.
She whirls around. “Oh! Hey, Katherine. What’s up?”
“Actually,” I say quietly as I shut the bedroom door. “I have sort of a big favor to ask of you . . . but it’s one that I think will work in both of our favors.”
“Why?” Lolo asks after I’m done explaining.
I tell her the truth, even if I can’t manage a smile as I do so. “Tom put his own wants and needs aside to do what was best for me. It’s time I return the favor.”
THIRTY-SEVEN
TOM
December 24, 4:50 p.m.
My walk with Lolo goes well.
Incredibly well, actually.
Better than I ever could have imagined.
But there’s still one more conversation I need to have, and I’m braced for it to be much, much harder.
Still wearing my winter coat and hat, I step into the living room, where my family is sprawled out watching It’s a Wonderful Life, as is Christmas Eve tradition.
“Hey,” I say, ignoring the glares I get for interrupting the movie. “Anyone know where Katherine is?”
I get a few headshakes. A couple of shrugs.
“Thanks so much,” I mutter before taking the steps two at a time. “Katherine?” I go down the line of bedrooms, thinking maybe her head was bothering her and she wanted to lie down.
She’s not in any of them. Or in the bathrooms.
Worried now, I ask my family to help me look, and trust me when I say it’s a testament to their affection for Katherine that they don’t hesitate to abandon the movie to help.
But my parents’ house isn’t all that big, and a mere ten minutes later, it becomes abundantly clear.
Katherine isn’t in the house.
Stunned, I lower to my parents’ couch, shakily lifting my clasped hands to my lips.
Twenty-four hours ago, I wasn’t able to wrap my mind around the fact that Katherine Tate was back in my life.
Now? My heart can’t imagine a life without her in it.
Only, I don’t know where to find her. I don’t even have a clue where to start looking.
“Hey.” Meredith sits beside me, pats my knee. “What are you thinking?”
I drop my hands slowly, look at my sister, and utter a phrase I never thought I’d say: “I wish Katherine had her phone.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
KATHERINE
December 24, 11:40 p.m.
“Hey, Joey. Any chance there’s an outlet back there?”
The bartender, and my new best friend over the past several hours, glances up from polishing a glass. “I can do you one better. Right in front of you, beautiful.”
“Ah! Handy. Thanks.” I bend to look under the bar, and sure enough, there’s an outlet that some wonderful genius thought to install in the bar of a hotel lobby.