Pretty Little Secrets

“You poor thing.” Byron pushed a lock of hair off of Meredith’s forehead. “There are some amazing Solstice healing rituals that might help, though. I brought a lot of calming herbs with me, too.”



Meredith cupped her hands around her glass. “I can’t wait to celebrate the Solstice. It just sounds so magical and spiritual.”



“We’re so thrilled to have you here, too. Aren’t we, Aria?” Byron peered pointedly at her.



Aria picked at an imaginary string on her skirt. It was obvious Byron wanted her to welcome Meredith with open arms—even Mike was being a good sport about it, probably because Byron had promised him an unlimited snowboarding pass. But Aria felt far too wounded.



After Meredith had appeared, Byron had explained that her plans in Connecticut had fallen through at the last minute—her parents had decided to visit her brother in Maine instead. So he’d gone ahead and just invited Meredith to the lodge instead of letting Aria and Mike be part of the decision.



“I know we’d planned for it to just be us three, but I hated the idea of her being home alone,” Byron had said in such a caring, concerned voice that Aria almost sympathized with Meredith, too. But then she’d looked at Meredith again. There was a crafty smile on her face, like she’d somehow orchestrated this whole scheme just to make Aria miserable.



The concierge had profusely apologized that their rooms wouldn’t be ready until after dinner, and so the four of them had toured the grounds for a few hours, looking at the dogsled track, the toboggan runs, and the skeet-shooting fields. Meredith had behaved like an old lady on the walkways around the resort, terrified she was going to slip on a nonexistent patch of ice. She’d made Byron spend forty-five minutes in the gift shop, picking out a perfect gender-neutral baby onesie. And she’d asked him to walk her to the women’s room the eleven times she’d had to pee. While they’d waited in the hall during Pee Break #4, Byron had given Aria’s shoulders a quick squeeze. “Are you doing okay?”



“Never better,” Aria had answered, her voice icy, resisting the urge to pull out her own hair.



Now, Byron picked up his glass of wine and held it in the air. “To the Solstice.” Meredith touched his glass with hers, and Aria and Mike reluctantly followed with their glasses of Sprite.



“Let’s go over the schedule of events for the next few days,” Byron went on after taking a hearty swig. “Tomorrow I thought we’d go on a nature walk and do the Circle of Trust.” He turned to Meredith. “That’s where we join hands in the woods and breathe together as one, welcoming the change of seasons.”



“Of course,” Meredith said, as though she’d celebrated the Solstice for years.



“We’ll definitely burn the Yule log that night.” Byron cut a piece of tofu lasagna and popped it in his mouth. He wasn’t a vegetarian except during Solstice time. “According to Scandinavian lore, burning it makes the sun shine brighter. And then the next morning, we’ll do the naked run.”



“A naked run?” Meredith’s brow furrowed. “You mean outdoors?”



Mike snickered lasciviously, then looked around the dining room. “I should recruit her for that.” He pointed to a pretty blonde eating dinner with her parents.



Byron dabbed his mouth with his napkin. “The naked run is very invigorating. We usually do it quite early in the morning so no one disturbs us. And we usually keep our underwear on,” he said with a smile. “Americans aren’t the most open-minded about these rituals.”



“I’m not sure it’s a good idea for me to run.” Meredith patted her stomach. “The cold might hurt the baby. Or what if I trip and fall on my belly?”



Aria leaned forward. “Ella always loved the naked run. She told me once that she even did it when she was six months pregnant with Mike.” She peeked at Meredith’s face. She looked crestfallen. Good.



Byron’s mouth twitched. “Well, that’s true, but maybe Meredith’s right.”



Meredith lowered her glass defiantly. “Never mind. I’m in.” She shot Aria a brief, sharp look that seemed to say, You can’t get rid of me that easily.



Aria turned away, her gaze landing on the Christmas tree in the corner of the room. It was decorated with tiny glass birds, strung kernels of popcorn, and white grosgrain bows. Presents were stacked underneath, and a model train circled the perimeter. A young couple and their two children, a boy and a girl of about four and six, stood in front of the tree holding hands. The father lifted the boy so he could get a better look at one of the bird ornaments. Aria couldn’t hear their conversation, but she definitely heard the mother say the word Santa.



Tears filled her eyes. That family was making amazing memories. Not long ago, her family had been making similar memories—okay, Solstice memories, which were kind of kooky, but at least they were all together. They’d been so happy in Iceland. It seemed like her parents had fallen back in love while they were there, but it had all come apart when they returned to Rosewood.



They finished their entrées and ordered a bunch of desserts to split, including tapioca pudding and crème brûlée, both of which Aria hated. When they arrived, Meredith breathed in, turned green, and pushed back her chair.



“I just have to . . . ,” she blurted, her cheeks bulging. She ran toward the bathroom and clamored through the door. Her retching noises could be heard throughout the dining room. The diners gazed in the direction of the bathroom in alarm.



“Nasty,” Mike said.



A porter in a red suit appeared at Byron’s side. “Sir, your guest quarters are ready. We’ve already taken your luggage there.”



“Excellent.” Byron pressed his hand to his forehead, suddenly looking exhausted. “I think we could all use some downtime right now.”



The porter handed him a key and told him to go to the fourth floor. Once Byron paid the check, they picked up Meredith from the bathroom. She leaned on Byron’s arm on the walk to the elevator, making huffing and puffing noises as though she were already in labor.



“I call the TV remote,” Mike said to Aria in the elevator. “There’s a sweet ultimate fighting match on tonight.”



“Whatever,” Aria said wearily. At this point, she’d watch any of Mike’s stupid shows—getting away from Byron and Meredith in their own room was reward enough. “I get first pick of the minibar.”



“Byron, hurry!” Meredith urged from farther up the hall as Byron fumbled through his pockets. She turned around and clutched her belly, her face sheet-white. “I think I’m going to puke again.”



“Okay, okay.” Byron shoved a key into a room and opened the door. Meredith darted inside, slammed the bathroom door, and more disgusting noises commenced.



Byron strode into the little hallway for the room and put his hands on his hips. “Well, this looks lovely.”



“What about our room?” Aria asked.



Byron cocked his head. “This is your room.”



Aria stared at it. Slowly, the realization swept over her. “We’re all staying in a room together?” She’d assumed that since Meredith was along, Byron would have changed the reservation.



Byron blinked. “Honey, this place is really expensive. And anyway, the resort was fully booked.” He flicked on the lights, revealing two big rooms, a kitchenette, and the closed door to the bathroom. Meredith let out a weak cough from inside. “This is a suite—you guys can have your own space if you sleep on the pullout couch in the living area.”



A cramp squeezed Aria’s stomach. A pullout couch wasn’t good enough. She’d still be able to hear Byron and pregnant Meredith through the door.



She felt like a geyser about to blow. This was her time with her dad. Her time to bond. Didn’t Byron understand that? Didn’t he know how hard the past few months had been? He could have told Meredith not to come. He could have decided, just this once, that Aria and Mike came first.



“I have to go,” she blurted. She grabbed her canvas bag from the luggage cart and started out the door.



“Go where?” Byron called after her. But Aria didn’t turn back. She stormed down the hall, pushed through the stairwell, and clomped down to the oak-paneled lobby. A woman was playing “Jingle Bells” on the baby grand piano in the corner. People were drinking free cider from a carafe by the front desk. Kids were making angels in the freshly fallen snow. It was a beautiful place, and Aria wanted nothing more than to stay, but she knew that she absolutely, positively couldn’t.



She was getting the hell out of there.



Chapter 3



Another Surprise



Aria’s cell phone said 9:57 P.M. when the bus pulled into the Rosewood Greyhound station parking lot. Feeling groggy and grimy, she staggered down the stairs, grabbed her luggage from the undercarriage compartment, and darted around the snowdrifts toward her old friend, Emily Fields, whom she’d called and asked to pick her up. She took out her cell phone again.



Back in Rosewood, safe and sound, she wrote to Byron. Have fun tomorrow.



After Aria had marched out of the shared room at the lodge, Byron had followed her to the lobby and tried to cajole her into staying. But Aria had stood her ground. With a heavy heart, Byron had driven her to catch the next bus to Rosewood. Before she’d boarded, he’d placed his hand on her shoulder and given her a meaningful look. Aria had thought he was going to tell her something profound. Or apologize.



“Don’t forget to slather butter on the front door of Mom’s house,” he’d said instead. “Otherwise, you won’t be protected from spirits for the rest of the year.”



Snow began to fall as Aria slid into Emily’s waiting car. “Thanks for coming to get me,” Aria said.



“Of course.” Emily eased her car out of the station and started down Lancaster Avenue. “But are you sure you don’t want to stay at my house? Won’t you be lonely spending the holiday by yourself?”



“I don’t want to intrude,” Aria answered. Emily was dropping her at Ella’s—there was no way she was going to stay at her dad and Meredith’s creaky apartment in Old Hollis. “And honestly, after everything that’s happened, maybe I just need a little time to myself.”



There was barely any traffic, and every stoplight in Rosewood was green. Emily sped past Rosewood’s main drag, the Hollis campus, and the turnoff for Alison DiLaurentis’s old street, reaching Aria’s mom’s house in record time. Hers was the only property on the block that wasn’t aglow with Christmas decorations. It looked like a missing tooth in a mouth of pearly whites.



After saying bye to Emily, Aria unlocked the front door and dropped her bags in the foyer. The only noises in the house were the soft hum of the refrigerator and the hiss of air through the radiator pipes. When she looked out the window, the snow had already left a dusting on the front lawn. According to weather reports, they were supposed to get a foot by tomorrow morning.



“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas,” Aria sang softly. Her voice echoed in the empty room, filling her with regret. What was she going to do with herself for the next few days, knocking around this big house all by herself? What was she going to make for Christmas dinner—frozen organic macaroni and cheese? Maybe she should have brought Mike with her—but he hadn’t seemed that bummed out to be with Byron and Meredith. He’d probably spend the next few days skiing, snowboarding, ice fishing, and skeet shooting.