Trails Merge

by Rachel Spangler

  “Let’s take it easy the first time down.” The boys started to object, but she cut them off. “You haven’t had those skis on for over six months. Take it slow the first time to make sure everything’s okay with your gear.” It was a lame excuse, since none of the Carsons would have strapped into anything other than perfectly tuned equipment, but the boys didn’t argue. They started out together, but the guys quickly pulled ahead, tucking low into their stance and picking up speed. Parker followed them closely, her form solid but not aggressive.

  Campbell was last, watching Parker carefully. They had practiced on this slope the last two evenings. She knew this was where the family would spend the day and wanted Parker to feel comfortable with her surroundings, and it seemed like she did. She moved gracefully into a wide arc to the periphery of Campbell’s vision, and while Campbell tried to evaluate Parker’s technical skills, she couldn’t help but notice how nicely her ski pants fit over her hips. Campbell watched those hips curve lightly as Parker shifted her weight to follow the bend of the trail. It was a wide slope with a consistently gentle grade the entire length. It was also one of the longest runs on the mountain, measuring a little over one mile. On one side stood a row of cabins, some occupied by the Carsons, others used as rental properties for families and larger groups who wanted ski-in/ski-out access to their accommodations. The bottom of the slope flattened out nicely before a hedgerow provided a final barrier between skiers and the road that wrapped entirely around the resort.

  Skiing along, Campbell gazed across the snowy terrain at the mild grade lined by large frosted pines, and her heart swelled. This was the view she remembered most vividly from her childhood, and when she was away, this image filled her hours of longing for home. The beauty of the scene and the pleasure it evoked made her want to be part of the family business and help move it into a strong future. They could branch out to a broader clientele and serve as educators as well as entertainers. Parker could be a big part of that broader approach, if she wanted to. Campbell returned her focus to the present as the entire group made it back to the start of the lift without any problems, and Parker even managed to slide to a stop gracefully, winning an appreciative nod from Sammy.

  “You don’t have to hold back for my sake,” Parker said when they were on the lift again.

  “I won’t. You can hold your own, even on the blue trail right under the lift. We ran it yesterday and you did great.”

  “Then why were you going so slow?”

  “Honestly?” Campbell asked. “I was reminiscing. I have a lot of good memories of days just like this.”

  “I envy you,” Parker said. “We never had holiday traditions. We just went with whoever offered the best invitation.”

  Campbell frowned. She couldn’t imagine that. “Well, I guess that could be exciting, to be with different friends all the time.”

  “I doubt that you would call them friends. I mean, I guess they were my parents’ friends, as much as they had time for such. Mostly colleagues they spent long periods of time with on one project or another.”

  “You’ve never talked about your family before,” Campbell said, glad that Parker was finally opening up about something other than work. They seemed to be getting closer, and not just in a physical sense, though that aspect of their friendship still weighed heavily on Campbell’s mind.

  “There’s nothing to talk about, really,” Parker said casually. “My mother’s a lawyer, my father’s a business consultant, and my brother’s a stockbroker.”

  Parker had listed her family members’ respective occupations and said nothing about their relationships, but they had reached the top of the lift and the boys were once again planning their descent. This time Campbell let them go. They had too much energy for her to rein them in any longer, and as soon as Sammy arrived they flew down the mountain again.

  “We’ll go with them, but follow my tracks, not Sammy’s,” Campbell instructed. Parker nodded and pushed off behind her.

  They headed left, directly below the lift, with Campbell carving a large S-shaped path, using the turns to help control their speed. The terrain was more challenging than Parker was used to, but not enough that she should be worried. Campbell smiled to herself. Even if they were on the steepest part of the resort, Parker would find a way to keep up. She wouldn’t fall if the entire mountain came crashing down behind her, not with the rest of the family watching. Campbell liked that about her. In fact, the more she learned about Parker, the more she liked. She was focused, driven, and determined, but now that Campbell was learning to see past her iron façade, she also detected a vulnerability that made Parker much more attractive. She seemed to genuinely care about her work at Bear Run, which endeared her to Campbell despite her early impressions of her. The flutter in Campbell’s stomach whenever Parker got near enough to brush against her was harder to explain and much more difficult to ignore.

  Parker mimicked her every move the entire way down, cutting and curving over the steeps and keeping her speed through the flats. In a few weeks Parker wouldn’t need her as a guide, which made Campbell both proud and disappointed.

  They barely stopped at the bottom of the lift as Greg waved them onto the next available chair. “You planning to ski, Dad?” Campbell asked as they flew away.

  “I’m too old,” he called, but she knew he would try at least once before the season was over.

  “Do you see your family much?” Campbell asked, picking up their conversation from the previous lift ride in the way skiers often did.

  “Not really.” Parker seemed neither joyous nor sad as she simply stated the fact. “I used to run into my parents at fund-raisers or dinners occasionally back in Chicago, and I went out to visit my brother and his wife in Colorado twice when I was in college. But I haven’t seen them since they moved back to Chicago this fall.”

  Campbell didn’t know how to reply. She knew not everyone had family ties like she did, but she couldn’t imagine living so near her parents and seeing them only by accident at official functions.

  “It’s not like we don’t get along,” Parker continued, seeming slightly uncomfortable with the topic. “We’ve just never been that close. We’re all so busy, and they’re very successful people.”

  Campbell wanted to challenge the idea that anyone could be considered successful without having a relationship with his or her children. Instead she said, “They must be proud of everything you’ve accomplished.”

  Parker tensed. Even through all Parker’s layers of clothing, Campbell could feel her muscles tighten. “I’m sure they were at some point.”

  The conversation was closed, and judging by the hard-set line of Parker’s mouth, it wouldn’t be revisited anytime soon. The hardness of Parker’s face saddened Campbell, and her tense posture greatly limited their body contact. Unsure what had bothered Parker so badly, Campbell tried to refocus on skiing, which wasn’t easy.

  The boys were tearing down the mountain, so Parker and Campbell took the easier route at a more leisurely pace. Campbell glanced over her shoulder a time or two and smiled as Parker followed exactly in her path, mimicking their practice sessions. As Campbell arced in wide, gentle turns, she took deep cleansing breaths, her body responding to a rhythm set by the mountain. They seemingly had the slopes all to themselves, a feeling they had grown used to. Once the resort opened, these precious, undisturbed moments would disappear quickly. Except for some early morning runs, before the public was admitted to the slopes for the day, they would have a lot more people to contend with over the next few months.

  When they arrived back at the lift, the rest of the family joined them. Both of Janelle’s children were bundled up and wiggling in their skis with anticipation.

  “Hi, Campbell,” Janelle’s three-year-old son called as they approached.

  “Hey, buddy. Are you going to ski?”

  The child nodded vigorously. “I’m gonna go fast.”

  “Me, too, me, too,” Noel chanted.

  Irene an
d Janelle were talking to Emery and Greg about their afternoon plans. The adults decided to take turns with the kids, and Janelle offered to ski with her toddler first, sending Noel with Irene. Greg slowed the lift to allow the women to help the kids into the chair, and Parker and Campbell rode behind them.

  “Can that little guy really ski?” Parker asked.

  “Not on his own. He’s still a little too young, but he played on the bunny slope a bit at the end of last season, so it won’t be long before he takes off.”

  “You guys don’t waste any time, do you?”

  “Carson kids are born with skis on.”

  “Sounds painful for the Carson women,” Parker teased.

  Campbell laughed. “Really, we start skiing as soon as we can walk well enough to keep our balance. Janelle’s boy is almost old enough for formal lessons. Noel is already a solid intermediate skier at five and will probably be able to ski black diamonds by her sixth birthday in March.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding. You’d let Noel go over the drop-off?”

  “Well, I won’t push her, but the kids actually take instruction a lot better than most adults. They go with the flow instead of fighting it.”

  Parker raised one eyebrow above the rim of her ski goggles. “Hmm, was that comment directed at me or you?”

  Campbell pondered that question briefly as she skied along the slope. Was she fighting the flow with Parker? Was Parker fighting the flow of life on the mountain? Were they both headed for something neither of them had any real control over?

  After everyone made it safely down the mountain, Noel squealed “Ewwww,” interrupting Campbell’s inner wanderings and directing everyone’s attention to her and her little brother. He had removed his glove and shoved his finger up his nose all the way to the second knuckle. Everyone laughed, except for the kid, who just grinned and kept picking his nose until Janelle pulled his hand away and wiped it with a tissue.

  “Boys are icky,” Noel said enthusiastically. “I like girls better.”

  “You get that from your cousin,” Janelle teased, winking at Campbell.

  “I like girls better, too,” Sammy joked along with them.

  “What about you, Uncle Emery?” Noel asked, pleased at the new game without realizing the nuances of the adults’ answers.

  “Well, girls only seem to get me into trouble,” he said with a grin, no doubt alluding to his most recent divorce. Then, looking at the twins, he added, “I think I’ll just stick with my boys for a while.”

  Noel frowned slightly at the fact that someone had chosen boys over girls, but quickly moved on. “Do you like boys or girls?” she asked Parker.

  “What? Who? Me?” Parker stammered, her cheeks flushing.

  Campbell wondered if she should step in and save her from possibly having to out herself. Parker wasn’t likely to feel comfortable with the implications of her answer, but at this point it would raise suspicions not to play along with the children’s silly game. Furthermore, everyone was waiting for the answer, and even if Campbell were to jump in, they would surely notice not only the lack of a response, but also who had rescued Parker, and she wasn’t sure Parker wanted that either, so she didn’t say anything.

  “Well,” Parker said slowly, “I’d have to say that I prefer girls.”

  A couple of the adults seemed surprised, and Campbell’s parents shared a look she couldn’t interpret, but Noel was oblivious to the fact that Parker had just outed herself. She began to chant, “Girls win, girls win,” as she headed for the lift. Everyone took their cue to get back to the slopes, and for the rest of the day, no one said anything about anyone’s boy/girl preferences. But the topic probably wouldn’t be forgotten soon.

  *

  Later that evening when Campbell and Sammy arrived home loaded with leftovers from the Carson family Thanksgiving celebration, they flopped onto the couch to watch the highlights from that afternoon’s football games.

  “Cam?” Sammy said, a few minutes into SportsCenter.

  “What?” She was still focused on the TV.

  “You did a good job teaching Parker to ski.”

  She stared at him. “How did you know?”

  “You were two hours late getting home every night, I saw fresh tracks on the slopes every morning, and Parker follows you on the slopes like one of your little snow-school kids.”

  Campbell conceded they had been pretty obvious. “You think anyone else knows?”

  Sammy shrugged. “Not much around here gets past Mom and Dad.”

  “You’re probably right.” Campbell nodded. “You won’t say anything to Parker, will you?”

  “You know I won’t, and neither will Mom or Dad.”

  Sammy was obviously working up the nerve to say something more, most likely about her and Parker’s shared sexual orientation, and she and Sammy would probably have several conversations on that topic during the next couple of days. But she didn’t plan to make it easy for him.

  “So I guess I don’t have much of a chance with her,” he finally mumbled.

  “Probably not.” She smiled. “Why, did you want one?”

  “Nah, I won’t have any problems finding someone else. Chicks dig me.”

  Campbell didn’t know of any dates Sammy had been on lately, but now wasn’t the time to mention that point.

  Sammy became more serious. “You’re my sister, so I’d rather not know too many details of your personal life. But if you ever want to have anyone over, I could make myself scarce.”

  Campbell blushed, equally uncomfortable about discussing this subject with her younger brother. “I don’t think we have to worry about that.”

  “But Parker—”

  “Geez, Sam. Just because we’re both lesbians doesn’t mean we’re dating.” Campbell fought to banish the memories of how it had felt to touch Parker’s face, how she’d trembled when she was so near. Nothing good could come from letting herself think that way. “We’re just friends.”

  “I know that.” Now Sammy blushed. “But sometimes when she looks at you, I don’t know. I mean, if things were different, I wouldn’t mind her looking at me that way.”

  Campbell’s voice caught. “What do you mean?”

  Sammy shrugged. “Like she sees how special you are.”

  “Special.” Campbell shoved him. “Now I know you’re full of it.”

  “Fine, have it your way,” he said, standing up and stretching. “I’m going to bed. Good night, Cam.”

  Then he was gone, leaving her with nothing to do but think about what he’d said. As if I needed something else to keep me awake tonight. Campbell’s body was still on high alert from being so close to Parker all afternoon. Her skin had almost literally tingled every time they made contact on the ski lift’s little bench, and the memory of their near kiss and Parker’s soft, full lips sent Campbell’s mind swimming. Aside from Parker’s new love of skiing and their mutual occupations, they had nothing in common. They wanted different things out of life, had discordant values, and bickered about nearly everything. So why did this maddening pull between them keep drawing her ever nearer to Parker?

  Chapter Nine

  “Bear Run, Parker Riley speaking.” Parker tilted her head so she could pin the phone between her ear and her shoulder, leaving her hands free to continue sorting through the paperwork on her desk.

  “Yes, Ms. Riley, this is the Chicago Society Police. We have a warrant for your arrest on the charge of social suicide.”

  Parker chuckled. “Hi, Alexis.”

  “Don’t ‘hi, Alexis’ me, darling. What are you doing at work at eight o’clock on a Saturday night? There’d better be a gorgeous woman under your desk.”

  “I wish.” Parker laughed.

  “It could be arranged.”

  “Do you ever think of anything other than sex?”

  “Well, apparently I have to think about it enough for both of us, since you never do,” Alexis teased, but she sounded concerned. “I know you work hard, but you have to
play hard too in order to balance everything out.”

  “Balance has never been my strong suit,” Parker said seriously. She’d been working full time before she even graduated from college.

  “Well, admitting it is the first step.”

  “Admitting it is the only step for me right now. The women’s ski clinics start right after New Year’s and I’ve only started the advertising. I still have to set up radio spots, print ads, and the Web site. Of course, we’re running the women’s clinics on a trial basis. If they don’t prove themselves quickly, they won’t stay. That’s the only way my boss could convince his older brother to agree to them.”

  The weekend had been a blur, with the onslaught of opening-day crowds. The mountain’s population seemed to have multiplied by ten overnight. The building buzzed with activity, and out her windows Parker could see a steady stream of skiers riding up the mountain and zipping back down. She frequently longed to join them. Skiing had become an escape, and she loved its simple purity of thought and action.

  Her thoughts about skiing with Campbell weren’t that simple and certainly not as pure. She longed to be near her, to see that heartbreaking smile and those dazzlingly blue eyes. She missed the thrill that came from brushing up against her and the heat she felt in their closeness. She wanted to be out on the slopes with her right now, experiencing all of those sensations at once, but she simply had too much work to do.

  “How are your conferences going?” Alexis asked, switching to her more official business voice.

  “Slow,” Parker answered, which was an understatement. There were a few returning conferences and retreats, but she hadn’t booked a single new account. “Why?”