Page 125 of Tangled up in You

“When did he find out?” she asked.

“When he showed up for my graduation and learned I was ‘studying plants’ and not accepting a pre-law degree.”

She winched. “Ooooh. Why was your father against you becoming a botanist?”

“Money, plus his idea of the great outdoors is driving through Central Park with the windows cracked.”

“Then how did you end up with a love for the outdoors?”

“We had this great lake home we never went to. He and my uncles and aunts inherited it when my grandfather died.”

“Why didn’t he go?”

“Because my grandmother—Dad’s mom—drowned there when he was a kid, and he witnessed it.”

She winced. “Yikes.”

“Yeah. The only reason I got to go was because I was eight years younger than my next older brother, and no one at home wanted to deal with me during summers. One summer, I spent my whole vacation there, while the different aunts and uncles and cousins rotated through their scheduled stays. I didn’t go home for almost three months.”

“How’d you manage that?” she asked.

“I was happiest with my nose in a book and studying plants. And since I was pretty low-maintenance, everybody was fine with me joining them. I learned how to draw sitting in the yard, copying leaves into a notebook. One of my uncles and aunt took me shopping, and they bought me sketchbooks and colored pencils. Their daughter was three years older than me. She taught me the basics because she could draw well. Although our subject matters drastically differed.”

“What’d she draw?” Jesse asked.

“Unicorns and manga. I was okay with the manga but I wasn’t into the unicorns. Artistically I appreciated them, but aesthetically they didn’t interest me.”

“Aww, you totally should rock a unicorn hoodie,” she teased. “One of those with the ears and horn and rainbow mane and everything.”

“Oh my god, please don’t egg him on,” Mark begged. “He’d wear one just to irritate me.”

“See?” Christopher said with a grin. “I do have hobbies. Annoying himisone of my hobbies.”

“It’s his favorite hobby,” Mark said.

Christopher’s grin widened. “True story.”

JESSE

Despite her mom’s death, Jesse felt grateful for the support she’d had her whole life. “When did you learn you were neurospicy?”

“Not until middle school. ‘Gifted but doesn’t apply himself and easily distracted’ in the house,” Christopher joked, bumping fists with her. “But it made sense in retrospect. Lots of pieces clicked into place.”

“I’m feeling outnumbered,” Mark snarked.

Chris reached around her and poked him in the shoulder. “You lucky devil, you,” he said.

The snow fell heavier and she retreated to the depths of the tent, snuggled inside the sleeping bags. The men took turns gathering wood and tending the fire, and they spent time talking punctuated by long, comfortable silences.

She made another journey out to the makeshift potty area, and when she returned the three of them sat inside the tent. A few minutes later, she realized something.

“I’m so hot,” she said, tugging at the collar of her shirt. “Oh, my god! I’m dying, aren’t I? This is that paradoxical undressing that hypothermia victims do, isn’t it? I read about that!”

Chris laughed and pulled the hat off her head. “No, honey. It’s about sixty-five degrees in here, between the fire and the three of us. You need to shed a couple of layers before you start sweating. It’s called ‘you’re lucky you’re stranded with two guys who are good at survival.’”

Now she processed that both he and Mark had ditched their jackets and vests and caps at some point.

She also felt like a dumbass. “Oh.”

---