THIS WILL SOUND stupid because it was stupid: I was in such a hurry to follow Gus and Tallulah that I didn’t think about being shoeless until I crossed the stone footbridge. Once I was on the other side I stepped into a pile of icy twigs. I let go with the traditional woodland cheer of “Oh, shit,” but I wasn’t about to turn back. I was sure, however, that in my chiffon wedding dress, a bedroom quilt wrapped around me, and barefoot, I looked like something out of The Blair Witch Project.

I had been in these woods a thousand times. So I knew the layout like a local mapmaker. But it was anyone’s guess where those two kids had gone.

I jogged through the orchard of crab apple trees and across the brook overflow. That area was a mess of mud and wet sand in summer. Today it could have been an ice-skating rink.

I turned onto a dirt path where we often took the dogs for a run, and then…something in the air. The unmistakable, never-forgotten scent of marijuana.

Following my nose, hobbling on half-frozen feet, I soon saw Tallulah and Gus sitting on a log.

I watched Tallulah take a hit and then cough like crazy. Her mentor, master-class professor Gus, seemed to be giving her directions on how long to hold the smoke in her mouth, how to properly inhale it, and, finally, how to exhale.

“What in hell are you two doing?” I said. “Are you both nuts?”

I was willing to bet that the last time anyone had looked this frightened on Christmas was when Ebenezer Scrooge saw Marley’s ghost.

“Gaby!” Tallulah shouted. “What are you doing here?”

“I always like to walk through the frozen woods just before I get married.”

“Oh, man,” Gus said. “We’re fucked.”

I walked over to him and pushed him so hard that he fell backward off the log.

“Do you mind? Your cousin is eight years old. Do you mind not using lousy language on Christmas? Do you mind not teaching her how to get stoned? Do you mind not acting like a little punk for once in your life?”

Their joint had fallen to the ground. I saw Gus glance at it.

“Don’t you dare touch that thing,” I said. “You know, Gus, I covered for you once. I thought you owed me for that. But I guess not. I guess you want to show up at my wedding stoned out of your mind. You don’t care if you spoil everything. All you think about is yourself.”

“Gaby, that’s not it. I just wanted to be mellow for the service.”

“And you wanted your eight-year-old cousin to be mellow also?”

He didn’t reply. He looked away, and Tallulah looked down at the ground. After a few seconds Gus spoke again.

“Can I tell you something without you getting angry?”

“Of course you can,” I said.

“I just…well, let me put it simply: I just love weed.”

“You ‘love’ it?” I asked. There was no anger in me. Probably because Gus was trying to be honest.

“Yeah, when I’m not stoned I think about being stoned. When I’m straight, like in class, I think about when I’m going to be out of class, and then…” His voice trailed off.

I waited about half a minute before saying anything. Then I told him, “You know the thing about a love affair? You can end it. It’s not always easy. And you don’t always want to do it. But you can do it. And that’s what you have to do.”

He nodded. He knew me well enough to know that I was a talker, but I wasn’t a lecture giver. There was really nothing left for me to say, except “Gus, you’re strong. I know you are. You’re strong. Stay strong.”

Tallulah was still looking at the ground. She seemed like she might burst into tears, which was okay with me. Her cheeks were already wet.

“And you, young lady. Stick to Skittles and the Jonas Brothers or whoever. And don’t hang out with bums like your cousin here.” I reached over and hugged her.

“Gaby, watch your dress. It’s so beautiful. Don’t get it dirty,” Tallulah said.

“Come on, you two little criminals. Let’s get back to the house. Before long it’ll be turning dark. That’s all we need to do, get lost in the woods.”

Tallulah and Gus stood up, and Gus glanced down at the lonely dead joint.

“Don’t you even think about it,” I said.

We walked back in complete silence. Tallulah and Gus kept their heads tilted downward. My feet were burning from the cold. The soles were scratched. The toes were numb.

As we got closer to the footbridge, Gus looked down at my feet and almost shouted: “Gaby, how come you’re not wearing any shoes?”

“I’m not?” I said. “I hadn’t even noticed.”