With Love, from Cold World(64)
“I can’t do it,” Marcus said. “I mean, she’s old enough to be my mom.”
If she’d been a mother in middle school, but Lauren didn’t bother pointing that out. She wondered why Marcus would’ve gone to the trouble to choose the books, buy them, and carry them around Cold World, only to get cold feet about actually giving them as a present. But she supposed it wasn’t her problem.
An assessing look came over Marcus’ face, and suddenly Lauren knew he was about to make it her problem. “We could trade,” he said. “You give Sonia the books—look, they’re already picked out. Who do you have?”
Lauren paused. “Asa Williamson. But I—”
“That’s ironic.” Marcus gave a little snort-laugh. “But he’s easy to buy for. Come on, trade with me.”
Lauren’s first thought was how disappointed Asa would be if he knew she was even considering it. Not because she fooled herself to think he’d care that much about whether she got him a present, but because “no trading” was pretty much the second rule of Secret Santa, after “don’t tell the person you got them.”
There was that. It wasn’t like Asa would know that she had traded, since he didn’t know she’d had him in the first place. And despite what Marcus was saying, Lauren found Asa incredibly difficult to buy for. She’d already considered and discounted flavored coffee (since he made it for free at work), art supplies (he probably had everything he needed, and had specific preferences as to what he used), and color-saving shampoo (weirdly intimate . . . and if she was completely honest, she didn’t want to risk messing with whatever alchemy made up that distinctive smell that drove her crazy).
She couldn’t think of anything to buy for Asa that didn’t feel either way too impersonal or way too vulnerable, especially after everything that had happened between them.
Over Marcus’ shoulder, she saw Eddie come through the front door with Jolene, and she gathered up the books on the table. “Okay,” she said, sliding them into her tote bag. “Fine. You take Asa, and I’ll take Sonia.”
“Sweet,” Marcus said. “Thanks. See you at the party.”
As soon as the swap was done, Lauren wanted to call it back, to change her mind. But he was already walking away, and Eddie had spotted Lauren and pointed her out to Jolene. Lauren plopped down in the chair at the table, not wanting to risk losing it.
“Sorry we’re late,” Jolene said. Eddie lingered behind her, the surly expression on his face barely changing when Lauren tried to smile at him. “We had a little incident with the PlayStation, didn’t we, Eddie? Tell Miss Lauren about how you were a bad boy today.”
Jolene hadn’t said the words with any particular malice, but they were like nails on a chalkboard to Lauren. She had a feeling Eddie had already internalized what a bad boy he supposedly was, and regardless, her role in his life wasn’t as another enforcer.
“I almost texted to say we wouldn’t come,” Jolene said, “since it seems wrong to reward behavior like that. But I actually really need to get my hair done . . . You said he’d be here until seven?”
Lauren confirmed that was the amount of time she’d discussed with Eddie’s caseworker, and after Jolene gave Eddie another warning that he was to behave, she left.
Being alone with Eddie hadn’t necessarily been the plan, but his caseworker and mother were apparently running even later. Lauren fired off a quick text under the table, inquiring as to their estimated time of arrival, before turning her attention to Eddie.
“When’s my mom going to be here?” he asked.
She checked her phone, but of course it was too soon for a response. “Uh, any minute now. Do you want a hot chocolate or anything while we wait?”
“No,” he said, and then, after a long beat, “thank you.”
“How’s school been going?”
“Yeah.” He was staring around the place, as if taking in his surroundings for the first time. “How cold is it here?”
“The main areas are kept around sixty-eight degrees,” Lauren said. “The Snow Globe is colder. I’ll take you there once your mom comes.”
“How cold does it have to be to snow?”
Lauren realized she didn’t know exactly—the effects of growing up in a state where she’d never seen it happen. “Like thirty-two degrees, I think? There are a lot of factors that go into it.”
“Like what?”
His questions were almost aggressive, as if he was challenging her rather than just curious. “The altitude,” she said. “Water vapor in the atmosphere. That kind of thing.”
She was actually impressed at how semiscientific her answers sounded, but Eddie didn’t let up. “How cold does it have to be for someone to die?”
Well, that was a morbid question. Lauren glanced helplessly at the door, then at her phone. Still no text. “I don’t know,” she said. “It would depend on a few factors . . .”
On the ice skating rink, people were laughing and gliding around in circles—happy couples, families with young children, several teenage friend groups. Asa was working the rink that night, and she could see him skating in slow, deliberate laps, his hands clasped behind his back as he watched everyone on the ice.