Peace and serenity were the last things on Sunny and Karma’s mind as Karma yelled out, “Snow bunnies, make some noise! This snow bunny is ready to meet some cute snow honeys for sure.”
Sunny agreed adding, “I can’t believe we’re finally here. And I’m so glad we successfully got our girl, Pilar out of her little den of depression.”
“Yeah, well I’m not sure this was the right trip for me,” I told them.
Karma reminded me of all the fine men we had just seen in the village as we made our way from the shuttle van drop off point to the path leading to our building. “Oh honey, this is the right trip for you to get your mind off what’s his face?” she said, trying to get my ex’s name out of my system.
“You know his name is Jonathan, Karma.”
“Whatever. Look here, you’ve got four fabulous days of enjoying those amazing slopes and four amazing nights to get cozy and let some cuties ski those slopes of yours, girl.”
“And in case you haven’t heard, it’s boyfriend season. That time of the year when you need someone big and strong to snuggle up with when it’s chilly outside, and right now, it’s chilly outside,” Sunny added.
“I am not trying to hug up on anybody right now. I just wanna get some good skiing in, take out some aggression on fresh powder and enjoy the beauty of Canada. You know, clear my head.”
They both looked at me like I was crazy and Sunny said matter-of-factly, “Okay girl, but just remember, domestic rules do not apply. What happens in Canada, say it with me...”
“Stays in Canada!” Karma joined in on cue.
They high-fived each other, then turned in my direction. After a few seconds leaving them hanging, I high-fived them both.
“That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout, P! All right, I’m going to go change and I’ll be ready to mix and mingle at the welcome party in just a few.” Sunny put an extra pep in her step.
Karma decided to offer us her unsolicited mingling advice: “Do not give out your real last names. You don’t need any guys pushing up on you only for you to realize that you want to push away from them. But you can’t ‘cause now they’ve got your first and last name and can stalk the hell out of you online.”
“Karma, what if you meet somebody you like, only for him to do the same thing to you,” I asked our duck and dodge guru.
“Guys don’t do it. They just give you the number to a burner cell phone and when they’re finish with you, they just throw that bad boy away,” she explained.
“Girl, either you watch too much T.V. or you’ve been dating a drug dealer we don’t know about,” Sunny joked.
I questioned, “What is up with men and women playing these stupid love games? Whatever happened to love at first sight?”
“Uh, didn’t you say Jonathan was love at first sight?” I nodded.
“Right, and after three years he tells you he loves you, but he’s not in love with you? Girl bye.” Sunny realized the low blow she had just delivered. It all came crashing down again for me.
Jonathan had said those very words to my face and now my friend stood there in our condo reminding me of the pain I experienced that night in D.C.
I walked over to the window and plopped down on the cushioned window seat that was large enough to sleep on should the need arise.
“I’m sorry, P,” Sunny said in a much softer tone.
“No, you’re right. Truth hurts.” I stared at the row of icicles that had formed at the top of the window. “So, what time is this little mixer?” I asked and Karma ran over to fist bump and yell her signature “Yasssss! That’s what I’m talking about.”
Sunny offered a supportive hug as Karma kept us on task. “All right girlies, it’s almost eight o’clock, so let’s hurry up, get cute…”
“Uh, I’m already cute,” Sunny felt the need to remind us.
Karma was unfazed by our slightly conceited girlfriend’s reminder. “Any-way. Let’s hurry up so we can make a fashionably late entrance.”
“Wait, hurry up to be late?” I asked. Karma and Sunny shot me a quick glance.
“Makes sense to me,” I said falling in sync with their game plan for the evening.
Karma lit a few of her favorite Pineapple & Cilantro candles by Illume that had our place smelling like a tropical cocktail I would’ve liked to sip while chilling on a beach somewhere. Sunny unpacked her portable speakers from her carry-on bag and connected her favorite 90’s throwback Pandora radio station to get us in the party mood. The aromatherapy blended with our favorite songs playing on full blast was just what I needed to get me in a more relaxed mood. Soon we looked like that cuter than cute Apple Music commercial where Mary J. Blige, Taraji P. Henson and Kerry Washington had fun dancing and reminiscing to their favorite boyfriend mixed tape. We sang and danced while primping for the evening bumping hair, applying makeup, especially Sunny and her signature Ruby Woo red lipstick by MAC and touching up manicured nails with fresh coats of polish. Although the evening temperature in Whistler was barely twenty degrees outdoors, underneath the cute snow parkas Karma and I decided to rock and Sunny’s fabulous faux fur coat, we were dressed for a hot night of dancing and mingling. Karma’s burnt orange midriff sweater and low rise denim jeans showed off her perfectly toned tummy. Sunny’s shoulders were on display in her kelly-green peek-a-boo tunic top that stylishly flowed over her snug black ski pants. I decided on a simple, fitted cranberry colored scoop neck top with my dark denim skinny jeans and after triple checking ourselves out in the mirror, posing for several dozen cute selfies, we were ready roll.
CHAPTER EIGHT
We finally left the condo to hit the enchanting Whistler Ski Village, which was alive and buzzing with skiers from all over the country. Although Whistler B.C. enjoyed vacationers of all cultures during its annual ski season, I was certain, they’d never seen this much chocolate on the Whistler/Blackcomb mountains at one time.
The National Black Ski Summit put the stereotype that black people didn’t ski to rest because this event drew some of the country’s most accomplished and avid skiers and snowboarders. Very few came here just to hang out, although you would always have a selected few who came with zero intention of touching the slopes, strictly on a mission to party.
Fresh snow was everywhere, creating a winter wonderland and the resort did an excellent job of plowing walkways and sidewalks making it safe for all to stroll and enjoy the sights and sounds of the village.
Breathing in the cold, crisp, clean Canadian air made me feel alive. People were happy, carefree and the smells of pastries, ciders, coffee and the bars let me know, a diet was out of the question. As my girls and I strolled from our townhouse to the center court of the village, it was understandable why we turned heads every step of the way. Winter fashion had always been of utmost importance and we were giving style from the top of our heads to the Après ski boots keeping our toes nice and warm.
Arriving at Moe Joe’s nightclub, there was a long line of folks waiting to enter, but Sunny ignored the line and strutted to the front. Karma and I both followed our bold friend who flashed a VIP pass and before we could acknowledge the shade being directed our way, were admitted into the crowded private party. Upon entering the venue, we witnessed a party of epic proportion in full swing. The place was packed with hundreds of men and women, most of them dressed in casual après ski attire, while others dressed like they were going to a Grammy Awards after party. We checked our coats with a nearby coatroom attendant, then moved into the main room where people were partying hard, swept up dancing to the hard-hitting sounds of Rihanna’s “Don’t Stop The Music.
Karma and I were grateful to Sunny, who always seemed to have the hook up, but I had to ask her how she got us in the club past the line of people waiting outside.
“You know Sunny don’t do lines!” she exclaimed. She went on to explain how she met a cute guy in the lobby of our townhouse who had some club crawl passes and he was kind enough to hook us up for the entire trip. Our girl Sunny... stranger
to no one!
At that moment, a cute guy approached Sunny and asked her to dance. She took his hand, shot us a look and said, “Have a good time ladies,” as she headed into the sea of party people on the dance floor.
Karma and I looked at each other, “And then there were two,” we both said.
I noticed a spot farther into the room near a fireplace and suggested to Karma that we go warm up over there. The DJ had the place jumping and it was the perfect location for a party. A full bar and lounge area, several fireplaces and nooks where flirting men and women were free to get to know each other away from the motion on the dance floor. You didn’t have to be on the floor to get your party on, and when the DJ decided to go old school, Karma and I plus a few others standing around the fireplace got swept up as soon as Tribe Called Quest’s “Award Tour” started playing.
DJ Mike Nice hopped on the mic: “Alright, alright, whoever said black folks don’t ski... Lied!”
The party people reacted with laughter and howls as the DJ continued. “Where my west coast skiers at? Is the east coast in the house? Can’t forget the mid-west and the dirty, dirty south!” As the crowd chanted their state pride by responding to their various regions of the country being shouted out, DJ Mike Nice continued to get the crowd hyped with a hypnotic ol’school mix. When Heavy D’s We Got Our Own Thang started playing, Karma looked at me and said, “Oh he’s going wayyy back! You remember this cut?”
“Remember it? Girl, he’s trying to get it started up in here,” I shouted over the blasting music and we started pulling out all of our ol’ school dance moves. I noticed a few guys wearing purple and gold paraphanelia, stomping and chanting familiar Omega roll calls and soon other black greeks in the house started representing their organizations. The musical mix continued and I was Cabbage Patching, Smurfin’, Bankhead Bouncin’ and rump shakin’ to Wrecks ‘N’ Effect all by myself because Karma was now on the dance floor with a cutie who swooped her up without me even noticing.
As the DJ continued to entertain the crowd, I watched my girls having a great time with their dance partners and I was thankful they persuaded me to come. The bar crowd had thinned out for a moment, so I decided to make a move over to grab a seat.
Finally, I got the bartender’s attention and ordered a Corona with lime. As I sang along to Donell Jones’ bumpin’ groove “U Know What’s Up,” soon the entire club chimed in singing in unison “Ooooooh, say what, say what, say what” along with the music as the bartender returned with my drink. I took the lime wedge and started to push it into the bottle, covering it with my thumb, flipping it upside down until the lime sank to the bottom. It was a trick Jonathan taught me during our spring break trip to Cancun back in the day and I immediately threw back a swig of the beer trying to shake him from my thoughts.
You will not ruin this weekend Jonathan. I took another sip and continued boppin’ my head to the music.
“Excuse me,” a male voice interrupted me from my personal groove session.
“Yes?” I answered without even turning in the man’s direction.
He peered around to glance at me. “I’m sorry, you look familiar. Is your name Pilar?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said somewhat annoyed, yet intrigued that someone all the way in Canada knew my name.
“Oh wow!” I finally looked at him.
We both were pleasantly shocked. This man’s infectious smile caused me to flash a grin right back at him.
“I thought that was you. We met about a month ago in
D.C. at Union Station,” he reminded me.
“I remember. You missed your train.”
Another big smile appeared on his face and I tried to contain the flush feeling that caught me off guard.
“Yeah, I’m Kendall,” he said extending his hand. As soon as I shook his hand, I felt like this was deja vu.
“Pilar, but you already said my name,” I murmured as I released my hand from his polite grip. A grin appeared on both of our faces, yet we said nothing. It was an awkward moment.
“So, what brings you to Whistler?” he said trying to break the ice. “You here for the Black Ski Summit or are you on your Honeymoon” he continued with his inquiry. My smile quickly faded as I reflected on the fact that the last time I saw Kendall, I was just weeks away from becoming Mrs. Jonathan Bradshaw. I took a quick sip of my drink to mask the flood of emotions that were starting to brew in my soul.
“I’m defi y not on my honeymoon. You have to get married to be on one of those,” I said as I slowly traced my finger around the rim of my bottle.
“I’m sorry, not that it’s any of my business, but are you saying you didn’t get married?” he asked.
Without saying a word, I wiggled my ringless left hand for him to answer that question for himself. This time, I took a long swig of Corona.
“Oh damn, sorry ‘bout that,” he said trying to sound sincere, but catching a glance of him from the corner of my eye mouthing, “Thank you,” upwards indicated anything but sincerity.
I thanked him for his concern and he wanted to know what happened. He was cautious, prefacing the question with “Clearly, I don’t know you well enough to ask what happened, but what happened?” Before I could attempt to answer, he cut me off. “You know what, scratch that.”
Two beautiful women strolled past us, one of them checking him out, and understandably so. Kendall looked handsome dressed in a black turtleneck, jeans, a fitted baseball cap and with a sexy smile that framed his well-groomed mustache and goatee. I couldn’t blame the female passerby who had every reason to take a look over her shoulder back at him. It wasn’t my place to notice his smooth skin and attractive lips that accentuated his smile, upon our first encounter, but he seemed to be even more attractive than the time I spotted him in D.C.. “With all these beautiful women here, I know the last thing you want to hear is my sob story on how my ex-fiancé called off our wedding two weeks before,” I told him.
“You’re right. I’d rather propose a toast,” he said in a cool, calm manner.
“A toast to what?”
He raised his drink, looked me in the eye and said “Here’s to the fool who let you go.” As soon as he said it I think he realized he hit a tender spot and immediately offered, “I’m sorry. That was wrong.” He took a nervous sip from his drink and when I cracked a slight smile, he knew his efforts were not in vain.
I joined him in the toast, raising my almost empty bottle into the air, and at that moment, Sunny and Karma approached wasting zero time getting all up in my business.
“Hey girl. What are you and this handsome guy over here toasting to?” Sunny inquired.
When I answered, “Jonathan,” she frowned up her face with a perplexed expression. “What?”
I continued, “We’re toasting the fool who let me go.”
Karma chuckled, “Oh, well you know I’ll drink to that, as soon as I get a drink.” Clearing her throat, she looked right at Kendall, who took her cue and got the bartender’s attention.
I introduced Sunny and Karma to my new friend and he extended warm greetings to them. “Nice to meet you both. What are you ladies drinking this evening?” Kendall asked them.
Sunny requested a Coke while Karma said, “Make mine a rum & coke. Thank you.”
Kendall placed the drink order with the bartender while the girls shot me a quick, ‘Girl, who is he?’ look.
I could tell they were happy at the thought that it looked like I was moving on. They wasted no time checking Kendall out from head to toe. Before my friends could begin their interrogation, two guys pressed through the now crowded area and approached our little group.
One guy, stepped to us.” ‘Sup Ken? We saw you outnumbered over here and just came to check on our boy.”
The other friend, not to be left out, added, “These ladies are not harassing you, are they?”
“And what if we were?” Sunny asked. The guy flirted back with her, “I would say his boys need a little harassing too.”
Kendall jumped in telling us all to ignore the foolishness and he introduced his friends, Rich and Taylor to me, Sunny and Karma.
Taylor stepped to Sunny and took her hand. “Sunny Deee- light. It’s truly a delight to meet you.”
We all gave poor Taylor the side-eye as if to say “That was corny as hell!”
A Good Thing Page 4