“I wanna hear more about ice cream,” Luke said.

Damn.

The bel over the door rang.

“I’m not talking to you!” Jet snapped at Eddie as they both walked in.

At first, I got worried, but then I saw Eddie’s lips twitch.

“What now, Loopy Loo?” Tex boomed.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Jet answered, stomping to the book counter and slamming her purse into a drawer.

“What’s going on?” Indy asked.

Jet glared at Eddie, who was entirely unaffected by the mental laser beams Jet was directing at his back. He walked up to the espresso counter as the last customer moved away.

“Everything. Lottie’s so popular Smithie has to sel tickets. He’s already given her a raise. She found a house, put in an offer and it was accepted. Mom’s moving in with Trixie and the apartment has already been rented to someone else. I want to move in with Lottie but Lottie won’t let me because she and Eddie had a chat.” Daisy and Indy nodded knowingly.

“What?” I asked.

“Eddie’s kind of famous for his chats,” Indy replied.

“Don’t let Hank chat to you,” Jet warned. “Chatting is bad. You end up agreeing to stuff you never would agree to normal y after you’ve had a chat. And don’t, under any circumstances, have a chat in bed. You could end up agreeing to anything during those chats,” Jet’s warning turned dire.

The light dawned.

“I think Hank cal s them ‘conversations’,” I told her.

Her eyes got big and she nodded to me, once, slowly, saying, “Unh-hunh.”

“So, what your sayin’, Sugar Bunch, is that you are now official y moved in with Eddie,” Daisy said.

“Yes. We’ve just beaten the world record for the fastest moving relationship in history,” Jet replied.

Indy and Daisy smiled.

“No, I think I may get that one,” I said.

Jet, Daisy and Indy looked to me.

“I’m moving to Denver,” I announced.

Without hesitation, Daisy threw an arm up, punching the air. “Yee-ha!” she screamed.

Jet and Indy high-fived.

Everyone else looked over to us.

“Roxie’s moving to Denver!” Indy yel ed across the room to Lee.

Lee’s eyes crinkled and cut to Hank.

Hank rocked back on his heels and he crossed his arms on his chest. I rol ed my eyes at him and when I was done with my eye rol , his lips were turned up on the ends.

“You’re moving to Denver?” Mom asked, staring at me.

“You’re moving to Denver?” Mom asked, staring at me.

Oh shit.

I hadn’t told Mom and Dad yet.

“Um, yeah,” I said.

Mom’s face froze then she blinked.

“You can’t move to Denver,” she said. “What’re you gonna do at Christmas? Thanksgiving? Oh, Sweet Jesus.

Easter! You know we always have a special, honey-baked ham at Easter. You’re the best with the Easter egg dyes too. Mimi and Gil can’t dye eggs like you. Who’s gonna dye my eggs?”

“Mom, I’m thirty-one years old. We haven’t dyed eggs in fifteen years.”

She ignored me and went on. “And, do they even have persimmons out here? How are you gonna make persimmon pudding? I can’t mail them to you. You have to have them fresh or it doesn’t taste right. You know that.”

“Mom, I don’t make persimmon pudding, you do.”

“Wel , I can’t mail that to you either,” she said and then whirled on Hank. “We get Christmas!” she told him, as if she was cal ing shotgun in the car.

“Trish, calm down,” Dad said.

“I wil not calm down. My baby girl is moving halfway across the country.”

“She’s been moved away before,” Dad pointed out.

“Yeah, but that was with Bil y. We al knew he wouldn’t work out. We’re talking about Hank here. Look at him,” she pointed to Hank. “She’s never coming home. Never.”

“She ain’t movin’ to the moon, Trish,” Dad said.

“Might as wel be,” Mom turned back to me. “You hear even a hint that a blizzard’s coming, Roxanne Gisel e, you go straight to the store and buy toilet paper, you hear me?

And make a pot of chili or stew. Don’t get caught out. I don’t want a phone cal saying you starved to death, stuck in the house with no stew.” Her eyes moved to Daisy. “I hear the blizzards are bad here. People die.”

“That’s usual y old people, Mrs. Logan,” Daisy explained.

“And they normal y freeze to death.”

Daisy was trying to help but it was the wrong thing to say.

Mom’s eyes got big, then her back went ramrod straight and she grabbed her purse from the espresso counter.

“Right. We’re going out to buy blankets. Hank had, like, one extra blanket. He needs blankets. And logs for that fire in the back room. We’re getting blankets and logs. Come on, Herb.”

Dad dug in. “Woman, I’m enjoyin’ my lah-tay.”

“You want your daughter to freeze to death?” Mom screeched.

Dad shook his head.

Mom glared at him.

They settled into a staring contest.

I looked at the Hot Pack. “How many of you have a gun?

Anyone? Someone shoot me!”

Then I realized that Luke was standing there and what I said was a little insensitive, considering he’d been shot in the bel y a few months before.

“Um… sorry Luke,” I finished, feeling like an idiot.

Luke crossed his arms on his broad chest and smiled at me but didn’t say a word, which I decided to take as indication that he bore no il wil .

Hank disengaged from the Hot Pack and walked to me.

He walked right up between my legs, wrapped an arm around my waist and yanked me off the counter so I was standing ful frontal with him. He tipped his head down to look at me.

“Your Mom can have Christmas,” Hank said quietly.

“Thank you!” Mom shouted to Hank’s back.

I shook my head.

“You do not even know what you’re saying. Do not give her Christmas. Christmas is Crazy Land in the Logan household and I think you’ve realized by now that that’s saying a lot!”

“Roxanne Gisel e Logan, do not tel tales out of school.

So your father usual y gets drunk and burns the turkey. It’s Christmas!” Mom snapped.

“I do not get drunk! And I do not burn the turkey!” Dad yel ed. “It’s crispy. Everyone likes crispy turkey.”