That Old Emerald Mountain Magic

by Cara Malone

  “Oh yeah,” Joy said. “Well, I’m kinda swamped at the bar right now, but I could come by later and pick it up if that’s okay.”

  Carmen was disappointed – she’d really been hoping to see Joy now, but of course she had work to do. She asked, “What if I bring it to you?”

  “Are you feeling up to it?”

  “Sure,” Carmen said. “Besides, I’ve barely gotten to check out the lodge so far.”

  “Well come on over then,” Joy said. “I’m in the bar area stocking liquor, but they’re obligated by law to give me a break pretty soon. I could give you the tour.”

  Carmen hung up the phone with a stupidly large grin on her face. She tried not to think about how her dad would feel if he knew that she’d skipped his planned activity just to go continue her flirtation with Joy, but how was Carmen to know that her ankle would make a miraculous recovery after a hearty dose of ibuprofen? She limped back down to her bedroom and put on a little bit of makeup, then a pair of black leggings and a soft, oversized flannel shirt, along with her boots and coat which had dried out overnight.

  Her boot fit a little snugly over her twisted ankle and Carmen winced as she pulled it on, then went back into the kitchen to get a fresh ice pack out of the freezer to take with her. It was the last thing she wanted squished down the side of her boot – because of the discomfort and also the cold – but she knew it’d help so she did it. Then she called the resort transport van to take her to the lodge, feeling silly on account of the fact that it was a two or three-minute walk from the cabin, but with her limp it would have taken longer.

  When Carmen arrived at the lodge, it was about ten a.m. and the early hour didn’t seem to be dampening the spirits of the crowd lounging in the bar area. The room was large and open, with lots of tables, plush armchairs, and several wood-burning fireplaces spaced throughout the room where people could come and warm themselves after coming in off the slopes.

  That’s what a lot of them appeared to be doing – warming up after a run, or fortifying themselves before they went out to conquer the mountain – and Carmen thought this would be a perfectly cozy place to while away an afternoon. The logs crackled in fireplaces all around the lounge, she could smell spiced apple cider and cinnamon, and best of all, she spotted Joy behind the bar. She was standing on a step ladder, stocking high-end whisky bottles on the highest shelves, and when she climbed down to pick up a couple more bottles, she noticed Carmen from across the room.

  A genuine smile broke across her lips and Carmen could see warmth in her sapphire eyes even from that distance. She waved at her with the hand holding Joy’s snowboard binding, then gestured to one of the armchairs nearby. Joy nodded, and Carmen sat down to wait for her, setting the binding on the seat of a neighboring chair to reserve it.

  She finished shelving the whisky bottles and Carmen couldn’t tear her eyes off her. Most of the interactions they’d had so far had been hectic – her family checking into the resort with their mountain of luggage, their collision on the slopes, the pounding of blood in her ears as she felt the tension rising between them, and of course, her family bursting into the cabin in the middle of their kiss. It was nice to sit still and watch the world move around Joy.

  She seemed unaware of herself in a way that Carmen’s New York crowd never was. They always had their phones out, taking selfies, posting messages, checking their makeup and clothes and turning their lives into something to be observed. Carmen had been guilty of that too, and she didn’t realize it until she lost her phone and was forcibly removed from that world. But Joy? She was candid and after the few interactions that Carmen had with her, she already knew that Joy was really present in the moment.

  The more she watched Joy, the more Carmen realized how deeply she wanted her. She wanted to be close to Joy, and she wanted rather urgently to kiss her again.

  Joy moved the empty crate into a back room and then emerged again, locking eyes with Carmen and coming around the end of the bar to meet her. Carmen’s heart leapt into her throat.

  Thirteen

  Joy

  Joy had been surprised and pleased when she heard Carmen’s voice on the phone, and she spent every minute of the time between that call and Carmen’s arrival in the lodge anticipating this moment. There was something about this girl that was hard to ignore, even when she tried to keep her mind on her work. It had taken all of her restraint to finish stocking the bar after she saw Carmen, rather than showing just how transparently excited she was to see her by rushing right over to her.

  She tried to play it cool, walking casually over to Carmen while her pulse throbbed anxiously in her ears. She was sitting in an armchair, her coat thrown over one arm and the hem of her plaid shirt riding up her thigh in a way that made it difficult for Joy to keep her attention on Carmen’s eyes.

  Then she noticed the ice pack jammed down the side of Carmen’s boot and raised her eyebrows. Joy pointed at it and said, “I thought you were feeling better.”

  “Better than yesterday,” Carmen said. That was about how Joy’s neck felt – she’d woken up very stiff, and the more she moved it throughout the morning, the better it felt. Carmen pointed at the empty chair beside her and said, “There’s your binding. How much will it cost to repair?”

  Joy picked it up and said, “I’ll probably have to replace the bindings, but it shouldn’t be too expensive. I get an employee discount in the ski shop.”

  “I’ll pay for it,” Carmen offered. “It’s the least I could do for causing the accident. Just let me know how much it is.”

  Joy waved the offer away. “I appreciate it, but it’s not a big deal. I was probably due for new bindings anyway – that board is about five years old and gets a lot of use.”

  “Well, if you change your mind-”

  “I won’t,” Joy said with a smile. “Are you still up for a tour? While I was waiting for you I thought of something I think you’ll enjoy.”

  “Sure,” Carmen said. She got up and slung her coat over her arm, then took one limping step forward and Joy put her hand out to stop her.

  “Is that the best you can walk right now?” she asked. “I’m not going to drag you all over the resort while you pretend not to be in pain.”

  “But I want the tour,” Carmen objected, and Joy gestured her back into the armchair.

  “Stay here,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

  She went into the hallway that led to the lobby, walking quickly because she wanted to spend as much of her break as possible with Carmen. She went into a staff-only area behind the front desk and retrieved her coat, then grabbed one of the wheelchairs that were kept there to help mobility-impaired guests to and from their accommodations. When she got back to the lodge, she wheeled it over to Carmen and said, “Your chariot awaits.”

  Carmen looked from the wheelchair to Joy with incredulity, then asked, “You just love finding ways to embarrass me, don’t you?”

  Joy grinned and patted the back of the wheelchair, saying, “Just sit down, I don’t have all day and I don’t want you to hurt your ankle any worse.”

  “Fine,” Carmen said grudgingly, and as she sat in the wheelchair she laughed and said, “I guess this is as close to dog sledding as I’ll get today.”

  “Hey,” Joy said. “That makes me the Husky, and I take offense.”

  “You shouldn’t,” Carmen said, her cheeks going red as she added, “You’re much cuter than the dogs, in my opinion. So where are we going?”

  Joy told her it was a secret, then wheeled Carmen out of the lounge. They went past the bank of elevators that led up to the hotel floors, past the lobby with its towering Christmas tree, and all the way down the hallway to a freight elevator. It was for staff use only, but so was the place that Joy was taking Carmen, and she had to take a gamble that everyone else was so busy today no one would notice her smuggling a guest upstairs.

  She pushed and held a button on the wall until the elevator came and the doors slid slowly open, and as soon as C
armen saw the industrial, unfinished appearance of the elevator car, she asked with a laugh, “You’re going to murder me, aren’t you?”

  “Nah,” Joy said. “Way too many people saw us together in the lodge – it would be foolish to try something like that. I’m taking you to my favorite place in the resort, if you still want to go.”

  “I’m not crazy about this elevator, but I’ll go,” Carmen said.

  “Yeah, I didn’t like it much my first few times riding in it either,” Joy said, pushing the wheelchair forward into the elevator car. As she pushed a button to close the door again, she said, “It ain’t pretty like the elevator guests use, but in my five years here I’ve used it almost every day and I can assure you it’s safe. And the pay-off at the other end is well worth it.”

  “Okay,” Carmen said. “Let’s do it, then.”

  Joy pushed a button to take them up to the top floor, one that wasn’t accessible from the guest-accessible elevators. When they arrived, she opened the doors onto a space that was mainly used for storage. All the resort’s Christmas decorations would end up here soon, and Joy would be up and down this elevator a few dozen times bringing down all the New Year’s décor. The best part about this space, though, was that it also provided access to a helicopter pad.

  In all the time that Joy had worked at the Emerald Mountain Ski Resort, she’d only ever seen it used once, when a guest had sustained a head injury on the slopes and had to be taken to Denver for treatment, but they had to keep the helipad clear of snow and ice just in case it was needed. Joy almost always volunteered for the task because the roof felt so isolated and serene, almost like the feeling of flying down a hill on her snowboard in the early morning or late at night when everyone else had called it quits.

  She wheeled Carmen over to the door and told her to put her coat back on, doing the same herself, then she opened the door. Cold air blew in at them, a little flurry of snow cascading into the building from where it had gathered against the door, and Joy heard Carmen suck in a deep, awed breath as she pushed her out to the helipad, stopping in the center of a large letter H painted in the center of it.

  The sun was bright and the snow was falling lightly, and Joy made a mental note that she’d need to come back up here and sweep it clear in an hour or two. For now though, she was excited to watch Carmen’s reaction to this place. It offered a nearly three hundred and sixty-degree view of the mountain surrounding the resort, and that incredible sight never failed to bring a sense of calm to Joy. She was curious to know if it would have the same effect on Carmen.

  “Incredible,” she breathed, her mouth hanging open slightly and bringing a smile to Joy’s lips.

  She stood up so that she could turn around and take in the full view and Joy said, “It really is. I come here as often as I can.”

  “It’s humbling,” Carmen said after a minute. She was spinning in a slow circle, delicate snowflakes landing in her hair, and then she stopped and took Joy’s hand. “Thank you for showing me this.”

  “I’m glad you like it,” Joy said, lifting Carmen’s hand to kiss her fingertips. They were getting cold already and she pulled a pair of gloves out of her pocket, handing them to Carmen. “How do you feel about heights?”

  “I’m okay with them,” Carmen said, so Joy put her arm around her waist and let Carmen lean on her as she guided her slowly over to the railing at the edge of the roof. Their hips connected as they walked together, and Joy’s heart beat a little bit faster, pumping warming blood through her veins.

  When they got there, Carmen leaned against the railing to take pressure off her ankle and they looked out over the edge. They were standing directly above the ski area, where all of the slopes converged and the entrances to the lodge and the ski rental area were, only about five stories down. The mountain still managed to loom high above them in the distance, and Carmen let out another awed sigh.

  “You’re so lucky to live in a place like this,” she said. Little skiers and snowboarders the size of train set miniatures cut across the slopes and Carmen watched them, but Joy’s eyes were on her. She said, “It reminds me of when I was a kid, only a thousand times prettier and better.”

  “You mentioned that you grew up poor,” Joy said, hoping that she wasn’t prying too much as she asked, “What was that like?”

  “We lived in a house just outside of Boston that I’ve heard my mom classify as a ‘hovel,’” Carmen said, smiling. “There was plenty of snow, and it wasn’t the slushy, dirty kind that you get in New York City, the stuff that gets run over by cars about a hundred times as soon as it hits the ground. It was really beautiful and I remember spending a lot of my time outside in the winter back then, making snow angels and forts and lobbing my dad with snowballs as soon as he got home from work.”

  Joy laughed and said, “I think my dad would have belted me for that if I ever tried it.”

  “Mine only got mad if I didn’t have a pile of snowballs ready for him at the end of the driveway so he could return fire,” Carmen said. “My little sisters have grown up in a tenth-story penthouse and they associate Christmas with sand instead of snow. I think my dad feels kind of guilty about depriving them of the traditional Christmas experience that I got, even if mine also included IOU’s from Santa.”

  Joy laughed, then looked pityingly at Carmen. “You were really that poor?”

  “It wasn’t quite that bad,” Carmen said, “but we did get pretty desperate for a while. My dad was always good at finding simple things to keep me happy and occupied though.”

  “Yeah? Like what?” Joy asked.

  “Hmm,” Carmen said, thinking for a moment, and Joy watched as she bit her lip in the middle of her contemplation. She had to resist the urge to lean over and kiss her in that moment, and then Carmen’s eyes lit up. “Oh! When I was around seven years old, I got the Little House on the Prairie series from the library and became completely obsessed with it. Have you read them?”

  “Of course,” Joy said.

  “Do you remember the molasses candies they make one Christmas?” Carmen asked, and Joy shook her head. “Well, it basically involved pouring molasses into fresh snow until it froze, or so I thought as a seven-year-old kid. Turns out there must be more to it, but I didn’t figure that out until I spent several weeks hounding my dad to buy me molasses so I could try it. I don’t know if you’ve ever bought molasses before, but it’s expensive.”

  “Let me guess,” Joy said. “You did not end up with tasty candies.”

  “No I did not,” Carmen said. “He came home one day with a huge smile on his face and pulled a small jar of molasses out of his pocket. This was after he lost his job, so it was a big deal. We immediately found some clean snow to try it on, and I drizzled the entire jar in a big circle in the yard. It was sticky and bitter and it didn’t harden at all like in the story. The whole event was over in ten minutes, and my mom got mad that we wasted money pouring molasses all over the yard.”

  Carmen laughed at the memory, and Joy said, “When I was a kid, my mom would buy me snow cone syrup and I’d pour it over fresh bowls of snow. I bet mine tasted better.”

  “No doubt,” Carmen said, and then Joy couldn’t wait any longer. She pulled Carmen into a kiss, long and deep.

  Their bulky coats crinkled between them and Carmen’s lips and nose were icy with the cold. When she shivered beneath Joy’s touch, Joy broke away and brushed an errant snowflake from Carmen’s cheek, saying, “We should probably go back inside. You’re getting cold, and my break’s gotta be over by now.”

  “Okay,” Carmen said, leaning into Joy as she walked her back over to the wheelchair. As they headed back inside, she asked, “Hey, would you want to get drinks or something later?”

  “Absolutely,” Joy said. “But I can’t tonight. I volunteer at a homeless shelter in Emerald Hill once a week and tonight’s my night.”

  “Okay,” Carmen said. “Soon, then.”

  “Of course,” Joy answered, calling the elevator and then le
aning over to give Carmen one last, long kiss to remember her until they met again.

  Joy spent the rest of her shift hoping that the time between moments with Carmen wouldn’t be too long. From the moment of their kiss yesterday, she was painfully aware of the fact that Carmen would only be in Emerald Hill until the day after Christmas, and the time they had together was limited. It was a shame that the world had to keep turning around her after she looked into those gorgeous eyes.

  She even thought about calling Tyler at the shelter and telling him she couldn’t come in tonight, but she’d been volunteering there since high school and she knew how badly they needed extra hands during the holidays. So she went, calling her mom on the way over just to check in with her.

  “Hi sweetie, what’s going on?” she asked as soon as she picked up.

  “Not much,” Joy lied. She wanted to tell her about Carmen, but she had a feeling that it would sound frivolous if she talked about it out loud – they’d only known each other two days, and the amount of space Carmen was taking up in Joy’s mind was not proportionate to that level of familiarity. Instead, she said, “I just wanted to call and see how you’re doing in case I get busy with the Christmas rush and we don’t talk again this week.”

  “Oh, I’m good,” her mom said. “Your stepdad and I are finally going to get around to checking out Disney World’s Christmas displays this weekend.”

  “That’ll be fun,” Joy said. Mom and Allan had been saying they wanted to do that since their first year in Florida, but they’d always found an excuse not to go.

  “What about you?” Mom asked. “How’s life?”

  Joy let out a little sigh, and then said, “Life is good. Did you know Danny’s touring with The Hero’s Journey? One of their guitarists had to drop out of the band unexpectedly so they called him.”

  “I saw the show videos he was sharing online,” Mom said, and Joy realized that she still hadn’t had the time to watch them like she promised. She’d do it tonight, after she got done at the shelter.