The Dead of Winter (Seasons of Jefferson: Book 2)

by Julie Solano

“My lesson. I believe it’s titled, The Proper Way to Ride a Lift.”

  “Oh, that. Yeah. Well, I didn’t want to say anything. I was trying not to make you feel bad, but since you asked … you’re already doing it wrong.”

  “Oh, I am, huh?”

  “Mmmhmm.”

  “Well, correct me then.”

  “Okay. Well, first, you’re sitting at the wrong angle.”

  I laugh as I watch Tangles sit up a little straighter and pop her neck back and forth. She looks back at me, grinning. “There. Better?”

  I crunch my nose and shake my head, no.

  “No? What am I doing wrong?”

  “I guess I need to help you, but it’s going to take a little work if you want to do it correctly.”

  “Work doesn’t scare me. No one has ever called me lazy.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Once again, I slip out from beneath the blanket and slide away from her. Carefully, I turn my body sideways in the chair until I’m facing her. I lift my left leg onto the seat, and hold out my arms. “Slide on over.” An amused grin spreads across her face. Then gingerly, she turns her back to me, pulls her feet up onto the chair, pushes herself closer, and snuggles up against my chest.

  She pats the small opening on the seat next to her, and then reaches down and tugs on my dangling leg. I pull it under her, until I’ve carefully situated her on my lap, cradling her in my arms. Gently placing my chin on her shoulder, I whisper into her ear, “Someone’s a fast learner.” I can’t see her face, but I can feel her butterflies swarming beneath my hand. “Now that we’ve corrected your riding angle, we need to focus on positioning.”

  “Positioning, huh?”

  “Yes. Take your feet for example. They do have footholds for your comfort.”

  Tangles leans her head back, looking up at me. Giggling, she says, “Show me.”

  Deliberately, I position my feet beneath hers, securing her snuggly in my lap. I pull the blanket back over the top of us and wrap her back in my arms, whispering, “Don’t forget the seat belt … and then there’s these.” I find her hands beneath the blanket and begin outlining her fingers, one by one. “You should always make sure these are in the right place at the right time.”

  “And are they?”

  I shake my head. “Not yet.”

  I lace my fingers back in between hers and pull them snuggly up to her chest, right on top of her heart. “There. Now they’re right where they belong.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Cross my heart.” I smile, amused by the erratic thumping my touch has ignited beneath our crossed fingers.

  As we finish the lesson, the chair approaches the top. “I can see the bonfire. Time to get off. You ready?”

  Avery’s head rolls back and forth on my chest. “I think I changed my mind.”

  “You don’t want to get off?”

  “I just learned how to ride this thing. I’m not ready yet. Besides, you’re keeping me warmer than any bonfire I’ve ever been to.”

  Once again, my heart beats a little faster, and my stomach contracts from the tornado of butterflies spinning out of control.

  “Fine by me. I could ride this thing all night. After all, I did write the book on it.”

  “Guess what?” she gives my fingers a squeeze. “I’m starting to believe you.”

  The rest of the ride is relatively quiet. Aside from the subtle quivering I feel dancing across my chest and the few times she clings to me from the unexpected dips and bumps of the cable, the night is still. It gives me the time I need to reflect on how incredibly blessed I am to be here in God’s country. Alive. Looking out over the towering evergreens and majestic snowcapped mountain. Watching the smattering of snowflakes blowing across the constellations. Seeing. Breathing. Feeling.

  As I hold onto this beautiful, witty girl, I can’t help but think of second chances. I look down at that curly, brown hair and sweet mocha face. She’s the one thing that’s brought me the healing I couldn’t find anywhere else. She’s given me something to look forward to. A reason not to look back. When I walk into that building tonight, I’m saying goodbye to the toughest year of my life, and hello to hope for a better new year. And it’s all because of her.

  As we approach the bottom of the mountain, it’s time to come back into sitting position. I ease Tangles off of me and tuck her inside the warm blanket. Looking down at my watch, we only have a half hour before midnight. “Any last requests before we say goodbye to this year?”

  “I’m thinking it’s time to celebrate the fact that it’s finally over.” Tangles holds out her hand and grabs mine. “Let’s hit the dance floor and stomp out some crappy memories.”

  “Yours was bad too, huh?”

  “Oh, you have no idea.”

  “Tell me ab…” Before the rest of the word leaves my mouth, her finger is at my lips.

  “Shhh.” She shakes her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  I squeeze her hand and nod my head, fully understanding where she’s coming from. “It’s okay. I understand wanting to bury nightmares. I don’t like to talk about mine either. When you think about them too often, it gives them too much power.”

  “Sometimes distractions are the only weapons we have to fight them.”

  “Distractions as weapons. Never thought about that.”

  “Well, start thinking about it. Cuz tonight you’re mine.”

  We stop right there in the middle of the snow. I’m so thankful for the way she just opened up to me. I need to show her that I’ll be that distraction. With everything in me. I will help save her. I wrap my arms around her and squeeze her tightly. I’m her weapon against her nightmare. The same way she’s mine. Well, if that’s the case, I’m going to be the best damn weapon she’s ever had. I can’t help but bend down and hold my lips to the top of her head. As we stand there swaying back and forth, enjoying the serenity of the moment, an announcement rings out through the speakers, breaking the silence.

  “This will be the last song before midnight. Anyone who wants to bring in the New Year on the dance floor should make their way back inside.”

  I pry my lips from her head and look down at her. “How about that dance?”

  She takes my hand and leads me back inside.

  The floor is crowded with all of the couples wanting to dance the year goodbye. As we move our way through the crowd, looking for an opening, I watch the ceiling. I need to make sure I’m in the perfect place for our special dance. There it is. I find the spot and pull her in close. As we dance, I think back on my journey with this beautiful girl. How we met at the snowmobile park. How I chased her for hours. Our chance meeting at Gate 13. Midnight texts. And the little stunt at the Dash when she slipped on the ice and ended up in my arms. I have to chuckle at the way I spit my gum over her shoulder and pretended I was going to kiss her. She was pissed.

  “What are you laughing about?” she grins.

  “Do you still think I’m a jackass?”

  The countdown is beginning. Ten … nine …

  “What’re you talking about?”

  Seven … six …

  “The night at the Dash. You called me a jackass and said you’d never kiss me.”

  Three … two …

  My eyes direct hers to look above our heads.

  “Like I said before …”

  One.

  “Challenge accepted,” I wink.

  An instant smile crosses her face. She sees it. The mistletoe. I’m going to win. I look her in the eyes and smile as I draw close to her. I hesitate as I lean in close enough to feel her breath tickle the corner of my mouth. Her smile curls against me, as her lips brush against mine for the first time. She whispers, “I guess you win.”

  “Best win of my life.”

  Gently, I take her lips in mine. Vanilla. Damn. She couldn’t be any more perfect. This is the best prize I’ve ever won in my life, but I need to show her that she’s more than just a game. This kiss needs to be a tha
nk you. Thank you for being exactly what I needed. Thank you for giving me something to look forward to. A reason not to give up on myself. On life. This kiss. It has to be unforgettable.

  I narrowly open my mouth as I move in slowly. Gently, I tilt my head, just enough to take her full lips into mine. Our tongues barely brush, when the feel of her soft flesh sets the first firestorm crashing through me. It starts at my heart and finds its way through every nerve ending, leaving a trail of burning heat in its wake. I hold her close, stifling the internal explosion that’s sending sparks zinging and swirling through my core. We stand there, with reckless abandon, right in the middle of the dance floor, letting the world dissolve around us. It’s going to take everything in me to pull away from this kiss, but when my senses start to come back to me, I realize that I’m about to lose it right here in front of everyone. My breathing becomes quick and shallow as I work to calm the reaction to her scent. Her taste. Her touch.

  I need a second. I don’t want to embarrass myself. I gently pull away from her, setting my chin on top of her head. Slowly she rolls her cheek down against my chest. She’s giving me a chance to relax. I have to break the tension. “I won,” I laugh. “I got you to kiss me.”

  “You got me to kiss you? Don’t be so sure about that.”

  “Why not?”

  “I can hear your heartbeat.”

  “What’s it saying?”

  “That it was tricked.”

  “Tricked?”

  “Mmmhmm. I know how to get what I want. Now kiss me again.”

  Right there, in the middle of the dance floor, we move together for the next two hours. Holding each other close. Taking turns initiating kisses. Twirling and swaying to the music. It’s hard to say goodbye to this magical night. Not wanting to forget how beautiful she is in this moment, I pull my phone from my pocket to capture a New Year’s selfie.

  “Smile for the camera.”

  I can tell she’s not really into being photographed, but Tangles puts on her best game face. Perfect. This will hold me over until I see her again, and if I have anything to say about it, that’s going to be real soon. There’s no way I’m going to let this girl get away. I hold the picture up for her to see. “See. We look good together.”

  A flirtatious smile comes over her face. “I look good with everyone.”

  She giggles and shakes her head, just to let me know she’s not being serious.

  Well, I don’t think she is anyway.

  And something tells me, that this game has just begun.

  “CADEN, PUT THAT PHONE DOWN. You’re going to be late.”

  “Almost done.”

  ME: Hey. I have this thing I have to go to today. Sorry, I won’t be able to see you. I’ll text you as soon as I’m done, k? ;)

  TANGLES: Well, it all works out then, cuz I’ve got a thing too.

  ME: I’ll miss you.

  TANGLES: I know ;P

  I take a deep breath in. I don’t know how I’m going to put her in my pocket for two whole hours. That will be our longest break since New Year’s. It’s too bad I have to be the one to break the streak, but my parents are making me go to the stupid support group. “Son, this is going to help you get back behind the wheel. She’s going to get pretty suspicious if you never drive down to see her.” My parent’s persuasive words keep knocking at the back of my mind, reminding me why this is so important. As soon as snow sports ends, I’m out of rides. I’ll only be able to see her if I drive myself down there.

  A small rush of adrenaline courses through me, just thinking about it. Crap. The realization strikes again. The only way I’m going to be able to see her is if I drive myself down there. I take a deep breath and release it. Maybe Mom and Dad are right. This is for my own good. And hers.

  I’m a bundle of nerves on the car ride down. “Do I really have to talk to strangers about it? Nobody’s going to understand. They’re going to think I’m a freak. What seventeen year old guy is afraid to drive?” I feel sick.

  “Just give them a chance. You have no idea what those people have been through. They’re all there for a reason. It’s a trauma support group. They’re going to understand. And, you’re going to find out that you’re not the only one who’s been through a tragedy. Breathe, Caden. You’re turning blue.”

  I’m holding my stomach, trying to settle the nervous ball of vomit trying to claw its way up my throat. The snowy road isn’t helping.

  “Do you need a soda or something? You really look like you’re going to be sick.”

  “I’ll be fine. Let’s just get this over with. Where is it anyway?”

  “It’s in the old catholic church.”

  “The one they don’t use anymore? Mom, nobody goes all the way out there. Is it safe?”

  “Yes, it’s safe. You’ve got facilitators and other clients. There’s just no unwanted foot traffic. They hold it there because it’s private. You’ll be fine, son. Quit worrying. I’ll be waiting for you right outside.”

  When we pull up outside of the church, there are a handful of cars in the parking lot. I turn to my mom, “Great, not only am I the new one, but I’m the late one too.” I decide to sneak into the back as quietly as possible, and sit down in the last pew. That way, nobody will notice me.

  The old wooden bench creaks as soon as I put weight on it. I have to look down so nobody sees how red my face is. If anyone’s looking at me right now, I wouldn’t know it. I’m not looking up. Not until I know they’ve forgotten I’m here.

  “Welcome everyone,” a voice echoes through the long narrow building. “It’s good to see you’ve all decided to come out for our first meeting of the new year. I see some familiar faces,” pause, “and a few new ones. I know this is going to be tough for some of you, so before we begin, I want you to know that this is a respectful group. We need to listen, but not judge. Please think about your comments, and hold your tongue if there’s something you think could hurt somebody else. This is a safe place. You’re all safe here. Respected. Shall we begin? For any of you who have been with us before, would you like to start us off by introducing yourselves?”

  There’s no sound. I look up to see nodding heads, covered in scarves and stocking caps. It is chilly in here. Wish I was wearing mine.

  “Alright then, since I don’t have any volunteers, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Bill. I started this group about ten years ago after my wife and son were killed by a drunk driver. I damn near went crazy. I turned to alcohol. Lost my job. I was down and out with nowhere left to turn. A pastor got a hold of me one day outside of a local coffee shop. He introduced me to a few other people who had sought him out for help. At first, we decided to meet up at the same coffee shop every Sunday after church. One thing led to another. The group grew, as more struggling people heard about our meetings. To date, this group has seen over two hundred faces come and go.”

  I bury my head in my hands. Oh my God, is mom really making me come to one of these groups? This is something you’d see on television. What am I doing here? This is not going to help me. I should just text Tangles. Nobody knows I’m here anyway. They’re not going to notice. I pull my phone from my pocket and shoot off a quick text.

  ME: This thing I’m doing. Pretty lame. I’d rather spend time with you … and those lips.

  I search my phone for the picture we had taken at the New Year’s party. I love the way the lights from the disco ball are scattered across her cheeks. It reminds me of how magical that night was. By the time I find it, I realize I’ve been staring at my screen a little too long. I’d better look up so they don’t notice I’m not paying attention.

  “You’d be surprised how much it helps to share your story with others who have faced hardship. I’m a prime example. Today, I’m back on my feet. I have a good job. And I get to meet here with all of you every week to help you through your struggles. I’d really like to start with getting to know you. If you feel comfortable, it would be great if you could come to the front and introduce yourself. Tell us
a little about what brought you here. I know I’ve already asked once, but maybe we can start with some of you who have been here a few times. It might help ease our new friends in.”

  Speaking of new friends. I hit send.

  I hear a little shuffling, and then a ping. Weird. I just sent that text. That’s not my phone already is it? I look down at my screen. Nope, wasn’t me.

  “Before we begin, I have a few little housekeeping rules I forgot to mention. Please keep all cell phones turned off and put away. This is a secure environment.” A few people in front of me reach into their pockets and purses fumbling around to shut down their devices.

  Shoot. If she texts back, she’s going to think I’m ignoring her. I should probably let her know I have to put my phone away.

  ME: Sorry, Tangles. Got to go. I’ll text you later.

  Send.

  Ding.

  What? I look down, again. No message. I’m curious to see who’s in sync with Avery’s phone. I shift back and forth, trying to peek around the stocking hats and hooded jackets. I don’t see anyone on their phone, but I do catch sight of a tiny, little figure moving toward the podium. When she turns around to address the group, she pulls her hood from her head.

  My mouth drops. It’s her. My mind starts spinning. What is she doing here? Oh God. What if she thinks I’m spying on her? I didn’t know you were here I swear, Tangles. I know you’re not ready for me to hear whatever it is you’re going through. You’d be mortified if you knew I was here. I drop my head back in between my hands and sink down in my seat, hoping she won’t see me. I’m a good actor. She’ll never know I was here. I take a deep breath and curl into a ball.

  “For those of you who don’t know me. My name is Avery. I’ve been here for a few sessions, and I can say that Bill is right. It does help to talk about it with other people who are going through hard times too. I’m here cuz I can’t talk about this with my family. To them, I’m the strong one. But I’m not. I’m not strong at all. I hide behind my humor. I crack jokes, talk back, and put on a fake smile every single day.

  I knew it. She’s masking her hurt. What is it? Do I want to know? I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be listening to this. If she sees me, she’ll be so embarrassed, she’ll never be able to look at me again. It will break her. It will break us.