all her life had meant good friendships were hard to make, and that had always bothered Desi. What would it be like to have a special friend to share all of your thoughts with? Anytime she’d started to get to know a kid her own age, her mother would get a new hotel assignment in another city. Heck, Desi had always felt more like a mascot to the hotel housekeeping staff around the country than a friend to anyone.
Gerda guided Desi by several booths, making a stop in front of each one and introducing her. “Hey, everyone, this is my granddaughter, Desdemona.” She couldn’t seem prouder, and it gave Desi pause. If her mother had only given things a chance...
At the jewelry booths, she saw beautiful examples of the necklaces many of the parade participants wore and also brooches. Her eyes lit up at the meticulously knitted sweaters and hats at another booth two doors down.
“Oh, I love that red-and-white one,” she blurted out.
“Try it on. Let me buy it for you,” Gerda said.
“I can’t let you do that.”
“I’ve missed a lot of birthdays and Christmases. Please let me buy you a gift.”
Feelings she wasn’t prepared for folded into her heart. She reached out and for the first time hugged her grandmother. “Thank you.”
“We’ll take this,” Gerda said midhug to the little lady behind the counter.
As they pulled back, Desi offered a sympathetic smile tinged with long-lost family ties. The tears in her own eyes were reflected back at her in Gerda’s kind expression. They’d missed out on so much together. “That’s so sweet of you. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Gerda gripped Desi’s shoulders, letting her know how important this was to her.
Kent strolled up, stopping briefly when he realized he’d invaded a private moment. “Oh, sorry.”
Desi and Gerda opened their hug but remained arm over arm. “Grandma just bought me the most beautiful sweater.” The lady behind the counter had finished wrapping it in tissue paper and putting it inside a bag with all five of the Scandinavian flags on it, then handed it to Desi.
“That’s great. You’ll have to model it for me sometime.” His genuine smile rolled over her, doubling the unfamiliar feelings she harbored in her heart right then, until caution stepped in. Don’t get too chummy with anyone because you won’t be around that long. At the warning, her arm slipped from her grandmother’s back.
“I’ve got to get back to the booth,” Gerda said. “Why don’t you show Desi around all of the displays?”
“Glad to. That is, if Steven doesn’t get his nose bent out of shape.”
“I think he’s forgotten me for that group of boys over there.”
Gerda pointed at Kent. “I remember this one when he was Steven’s age. I could tell he had a crush on Ester, and I warned her to be extra nice to him when she babysat. Do you remember that?”
“I do. Truth was, Ester was my first big heartbreak.”
Kent went quiet as Gerda shut down before Desi’s eyes. Pain replaced the tender glances from earlier, and after a goodbye nod, Gerda make a quick departure for the bakery booth.
Desi and Kent exchanged puzzled glances. How should she process what had just happened? Kent had accidentally brought up the taboo topic. No wonder it seemed so hard to ask about her mother, when her grandmother had never gotten over her running away.
Kent flattened his lips into a straight line. “I put my foot in it, didn’t I?”
“It’s so many years. Who would think it could still be so painful?”
“Losing a kid. I don’t know how I’d survive,” he said.
Desi couldn’t begin to imagine the hurt her mother had caused when she’d set out on her own, barely eighteen and pregnant. Seemed as though there were always two sides to every story. Times like these, Desi wished with all of her heart her mother was alive and she could ask her the tough questions.
Kent glanced at his watch. “Well, it’s after noon. The kid’s distracted. Would you like a taste of schnapps in some cocoa? I know just the place.”
“Sounds good.” Anything to replace the heartsick feeling for her mother and grandmother that had suddenly come over her. How different would her life have been if her mother and grandparents could have worked things out?
Off they went, down the street toward a booth decorated in swaths the colors of the Swedish flag. On the way, without asking, Kent took her hand with a gentle, comforting touch, setting off a tingly domino effect all the way to her toes.
Kent let rip a piercing whistle as he set the three cocoas on the outdoor table. After Desi nearly jumped from her chair, she saw Steven making a beeline for them. The kid must know his dad’s call.
“That’s yours.” Kent handed Desi a thick mug filled with rich, hot chocolate with a strong peppermint aroma.
“Thanks.” Seated beside a small round table, she blew over the top of her mug and inhaled more of the delicious scents. “You always call your kid like a dog?”
Kent winked at her. “Works every time.”
The quick, subtle wink sent a comet up her spine, and she sat infinitesimally straighter.
Steven arrived, took one quick sip and put the non-spiked cocoa down. “Thanks, Dad! Gotta go.”
“Wai...wai...wait a minute.” Desi grabbed the boy’s sleeve and pulled him back. “I thought I was your guest today. Stick around and finish your cocoa. Talk to us a little bit before you run off with your friends again, or I’ll get my feelings hurt.”
The boy sat on the edge of the chair, too antsy to sit still. “We’re playing tag.” He slurped another drink. “I’m it.”
“Sounds fun, but they get to see you every day at school.” Once she had Steven’s attention, she took a long drink of the warm, spiked cocoa and let it go down slow.
“Have you ever been in the parade?” she asked.
Steven tried to be polite, feet fidgeting, eyes darting to the side from time to time. “Not yet. But next year the fourth-grade class gets to make a float and wear costumes.”
Desi glanced toward Kent. “Were you in the parade when you were in fourth grade?”
“You bet. One of the biggest days of my grammar school life.” Kent’s usual guarded style gave way to a smile, making him look younger, even a little carefree.
But Steven changed. His previous exuberance closed down and he stared at his drink. “Will I wear Swedish or Norwegian colors, Dad?”
“Both, if that’s what you want to do.”
Kent had grown more solemn, too, and Desi’s imagination started
