Free Purebred by Bonnie Bryant

had ever seen. Uncle John explained to her that clouds acted like a blanket to keep the earth warm. Clear nights were always the coldest.
    The cold didn’t keep anyone home, however. Even Grand Alice bundled up and came along, and from the number of four-wheel drives and snowmobiles parked in the driveway, Carole guessed that most of the town of Nyberg was celebrating with them.
    They entered the house by a lean-to off the kitchen. The large country kitchen was bright and warm, and full of good smells.
    Christina came running to greet them. “We’ll put your coats upstairs,” she said, gathering them as the Foleys took them off. “Most of the guests are in the living room right now. Food is on the buffet in the dining room, drinks are here in the kitchen, and dancing starts soon in the family room. If you need anything, just ask. And Louise, Emile’s coming!” Christina dashed upstairs with her arms full of coats.
    “Who’s Emile?” asked Carole.
    “Her boyfriend,” said Louise. “He’s French-Canadian. He plays hockey for the high school.”
    While Uncle John and Aunt Lily greeted friends and introduced Colonel Hanson to them, Carole took out her notebook and made a few notes.
    There’s lots of food. Everyone pitched in and brought something to share. Aunt Lily brought two pumpkin pies made from pumpkins she grew herself. Grand Alice made cookies, the same kind she gave me with tea. The house is
warm and crowded, and everyone seems happy. There are about twenty people here so far—whoops, twenty-three, three more just came in—and they are laughing and shouting hello. Christina’s dad just put some great jazz on the stereo. It’s a nice party, and it’s good to know that my family has so many friends.
    Carole closed her notebook. She was finished writing; it was time to have fun.
    The door opened. Aunt Jessie blew in with a whirl of frigid air. She had driven over separately because she had said she wanted to finish developing some pictures first, but she had finished pretty quickly. Carole watched her aunt take off her coat, greet a few friends, and help herself to some food. Then, to her surprise, Jessie walked over to her and smiled. “Happy New Year, Carole,” she said. “Are you having fun?”
    “Sure,” Carole replied. “Everyone here has been super nice.” She meant it; she felt very comfortable in Christina’s home.
    Aunt Jessie smiled again, a small but not unfriendly smile. “Everyone’s been nice to you except maybe me. I thought I should make a small apology. I know that I haven’t been as friendly as I should have been. After all, you are my niece, and I do want to get to know you better. Also, I want to say that I didn’t mean to belittle your horse or your knowledge of horses. Sometimes I’ve got a realattitude. I’m sorry, okay?” Aunt Jessie held out her hand to Carole.
    “Okay.” Carole shook hands gladly. She still felt a bit strange toward Jessie—it seemed like every time she talked to her, Jessie was angry about something—but she was happy to be on better terms with her. “People can tease me about almost anything, you know—except horses,” she added. “I can be a little sensitive sometimes.”
    Aunt Jessie smiled. “I feel the same way about my photography. You and I have something in common.” She offered Carole one of the chocolate chip cookies from her plate.
    Christina brought over Emile—a short, good-looking boy with black hair and uneven eyebrows—and introduced him to Carole.
    “Yo,” Emile said, nodding at Carole and hooking his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans.
    “Yo,” Carole said back, imitating his nod and hooking her own thumbs into her jeans. Aunt Jessie laughed out loud, winked at Carole, and sauntered off toward the rest of the party.
    “What is this music?” Christina exclaimed with mock horror. “My dad’s lousy jazz. He’s always sneaking this stuff onto the stereo. Let’s put on something we can dance to.” She