Page 34 of If Only In Our Dreams

Christ, why had I told Robin thatallthe Montgomerys got together every time it snowed? Why couldn’t I have said something easier to accomplish?

I’d have to use every minute I had to make this happen. And even then, I wasn’t sure if any of my brothers would be available.

Trent and Miles probably. I bet they were both looking forward to spending time with Robin. But Paxton? He was a wild card. And those were the only two that still lived inside the town limits. The rest…yeah. I didn’t think I’d manage that. Too many kids to wrangle.

But…Trent and Paxton were enough, weren’t they?

It’d still feel truthful if two of my brothers came.

Yes.

Yes.

Perfect.

“Upstairs you go,” I hummed, gently pushing at Robin’s shoulders.

“But I don’t think I have?—”

“Check.” I maybe lingered a little too long on his shoulder blades when I gave him another playful shove. Robin laughed, stumbling way more than he probably should’ve. My eyes narrowed, but my worries were diverted to my plan-making the second he did as he was told and began to clomp his way up the ornate wooden staircase.

Halloween baubles dangled from the railings. They glowed softly, though some bulbs were burnt out. Probably because these decorations were as old as I was. Or close.

“What else should I look for, your Ben-evolence?” Robin joked.

“Long warm socks.” I didn’t rise to the bait, though I wanted to. “Gloves. If you can’t find warm sweaters, layer a few shirts. Anything is better than jeans.”

“I’m not gonna find any of that,” Robin laughed, but did as he was told anyway, continuing left up the staircase and disappearing toward his room.

The second he was out of sight, I strode forward, peeking around the bannister to make sure he was well and truly gone before I bolted toward Matilda’s desk.

“If I’m not inside when he comes down, distract him.” Nervously, I tapped on the shell of the wood, leaning over to make sure she could hear me. “Please?”

Matilda very slowly turned the page in her—my—book. She twisted to eye me dubiously over her shoulder, but her lips twitched—which I assumed meant yes.

Excellent.

Speed-walking outside, far enough away not to be overheard, I whipped out my phone. The chill hit, a snowflake landing on the shell of my cheek as I waited at the bottom of the steps, heart pounding.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up.” Anxiously, my foot tapped on the cobblestone ground. There was an orange maple leaf beside my boot, and I carefully bent down to pick it up, shoving it in my pocket to give to the girls later.

The phone rang.

And rang.

And—

“Ben?” Mama’s voice connected, a confused lilt to it. “Everything okay?”

Of course she knew this was out of the norm. For the last two years, every Wednesday I’d call her up at exactly seven o’clock and let her know I was on my way to pick the girls up. We had a routine.

It was barely five. She knew me well enough to know that I very rarely, if ever, deviated from my routines.

“I need your help,” I blurted. “I don’t have much time, so don’t ask me questions.”

“Okay, honey.” Her voice was concerned. “Is it serious?” She immediately asked me a question.

“What?” I frowned, confused. And then realized she’d already distracted me from my mission. “No. Nothing serious. Except that it is.Veryserious, I mean,” I amended. “Because Robin has never been sledding—and I lied and told him that we’d all be meeting at Knoll Park because it’s snowing. That it’s a tradition of sorts. Something we always do.”

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