Chapter Three
He stared around in wonder at everything he saw on the ride home — the other cars on the road, the shops and gas stations and restaurants along 89A, the people coming and going, bundled up against the cold. Luckily, he didn’t quite smash his nose up against the window, but I was still glad it was mostly dark by then. That way, it would be a lot harder for the people in the other cars or standing on the sidewalks to notice the way he was gawking like a kid taken to the zoo for the first time.
I pulled into the driveway of the cottage and unlocked the car. “Come on,” I told him. “Let’s get inside. It’s freezing.”
He didn’t move right away, though, but stood next to his open door, breathing in the biting air. “No,” he said. “It is not freezing. It is precisely five degrees Ce
