Yard Sale

“Which means,” she sings, “Cam isn’t even here.”

“What? Why?”

“He’s almost never here in the winter. Why do you think you haven’t ever seen him around before? He’s always on some tour. But especially now. He’ll be preparing for Aspen.”

“Aspen?”

“The X Games! You know, because he’s a professional snowboarder? Do you know him at all?”

“Apparently not!” I don’t know anything about snowboarders and their schedules. I knew Cam was pro, but I guess I didn’t realize what that entailed.

“Well, then you have nothing to worry about. But you do need to tell him. The sooner, the better,” Tucker chimes in, like the annoying voice of reason he is.

“I have time,” I insist. I never planned to keep it from him. I could never let Cam go on living his life, not knowing he brought a child into this world. I just needed a while to wrap my brain around it. To make a plan. For the first month or so, I was terrified. Well, I still am, but now, I’m starting to get excited.

“You have, like, five months.”

Five months. I physically feel my face drain of color. Five months is nothing. Tucker must see the panic spreading through me like wildfire in my expression, because he drops to his knees in front of me, taking my hands in his.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. Breathe.”

I nod, trying my best to take in air.

“We’re going to River’s Edge, just like every year. We’re going to get hot chocolate wasted and watch all the Die Hard movies, and you’re going to love every second of it. Agreed?”

“Even the last one?”

“Even the last one,” he agrees. “Even though it was trash. I’ll never deny your fixation with Jai Courtney.”

“You’re a real pal.”

“The best.”

“Yeah, except for that time he cheated on you,” Sutton yells through the line, around what sounds like a mouthful of chips. “Am I the only one who remembers that minor detail?”

“I’m hanging up on you now,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I’ll see you next week.”

I hang up the phone and reluctantly finish packing what Tucker started.

“We’re telling our families the truth,” Tuck surprises me by saying. “After the holidays,” he clarifies. “About not being together, about the baby, all of it.”

“Tuck—” I start, but he cuts me off.

“It’s time, Mollie. I shouldn’t have let it go on for this long.”

Once I finally told my parents about being pregnant when I started showing last month, they naturally assumed it was Tuck’s baby. We asked them not to tell his parents, that Tucker wanted to tell them on his own. That way they wouldn’t be planning for a grandchild that isn’t even theirs.

I know he’s right. This thing between us has snowballed out of control, and right now, with this baby coming, there’s no better time for a fresh, clean start. We’ll tell our families we aren’t together, and then I’ll tell Camden Hess he’s going to be a father.

After the holidays. After.

I stomp the snow off my tan and black Sorel boots before stepping inside The Pines ski resort. I scan the grandiose building with the wood flooring and rock walls. The circular, metal candle chandelier that hangs above a sitting area next to the stone fireplace. It’s only half past five, but the sun is already down, and there are clusters of tourists in snowsuits that have just come off the mountain in every corner.

“Have you ever stayed here before?” Tucker asks, lugging both of our suitcases behind him. Since I’ve been pregnant, it’s like he thinks I’m incapable of lifting a finger. It?

?s annoyingly endearing.

“Nope. Craig and Andrew want to snowboard, and apparently, the cabin is too far away.” My brothers complained about how long it took to get to The Pines from the cabin we rented on the outskirts of River’s Edge last year, so my parents booked us rooms here for the first few days.