A Good Thing

by Stacey Evans Morgan

  Sunny, never one to mince words asked him if he had to get a separate suitcase to lug all of his mack daddy lines to Canada.

  Taylor laughed and her smile indicated that Sunny was feeling him. Rich tried a different approach as he stepped to Karma.

  “So Karma, is it true what they say?”

  She’d heard it a million times and cut him off. “If you say, what goes around comes around, I will...”

  Before she could finish, the DJ started playing The Wobble and Rich extended his hand, finishing her sentence, “Dance with me?”

  Karma was amused as she took his hand and giggled.

  As they danced their way to the dance floor, Sunny said, “C’mon Taylor. Let me see you wobble.”

  Up for the challenge, Taylor took Sunny’s hand bragging, “Girl, you ain’t ready,” as they joined Rich, Karma and the legion of folks on the dance floor.

  “Your friends are entertaining,” I said leaning close to Kendall. He agreed, adding his observation that the guys had met their matches with her friends.

  Kendall extended his hand asking me if we should get our wobble on. I was tired from all of my traveling earlier that day and although it sounded like a classic cop out when I passed on the offer for that very reason, he understood. He offered an alternative, “Or, we could just chill right here.”

  “I’m ready for bed,” I said.

  And he joked, “Bed? So soon? I barely know you, woman.”

  I guess my deadpan expression threw him off, but then I cracked a slight smile and soon had to laugh at myself realizing, “I guess I just left myself wide open on that one, huh?” I paused before I added, “And the Freudian slips just keep coming!”

  We both laughed and it felt good. I guessed the endorphin release from our laughing helped ease the load of stress that I had carried around since the break-up with Jonathan. I told Kendall that I was ready to leave because I wanted to rest before hitting the slopes early in the morning.

  He asked if he could join me and when I responded, “Are you an early riser?” I quickly tried to change my answer realizing I had dropped yet another Freudian slip.

  We laughed again and he looked into my eyes. “Tell me where you’ll be and I will gladly meet you there.”

  “Chair lift seven. Seven Thirty A.M,” I told him emphasizing the fact that I wanted to be one of the first to cut that fresh Canadian powder.

  Still gazing into my eyes, he said, “I can’t wait to do it with you.” He quickly adjusted his statement to clarify his intentions. “Ski with you, I can’t wait to ski with you...” he said slightly embarrassed.

  “I know what you meant.” I giggled. As I stood up, I thanked him for the drinks and laughter and prepared to say good night. “Your friends don’t look like they’re ready to roll. Can I at least walk you to your hotel?”

  I corrected him with the fact that we were staying in one of the exclusive townhomes within walking distance to the village.

  “Oh, okay, big baller,” he joked.

  I thanked him for his offer and told him walking me back was unnecessary, but he cut me off with, “Well, my grandmother would roll over in her grave if I let a woman walk home alone. Please, allow me.”

  He was a consistent gentleman and I liked that. The party was still in full swing and as we started to exit through the sea of dancers, the contagious beat of the “Wobble Song” was too hard to resist.

  “I guess one little Wobble won’t hurt,” I told him as we both started dancing in sync with everybody else.

  He was checking out my every move, but got interrupted when a full-figured woman backed into him just as the song hook: “Hey big girls, lemme see you back it up!” pulsated.

  I couldn’t help but laugh as he yelled out, “Wow, okay! That was my foot!” as the woman stepped on his other foot.

  I was thoroughly amused by Kendall as we continued to dance. It was good to see him again.

  CHAPTER NINE

  It was a bright, sunny and bone chilling winter morning and as the weather reports promised, fresh powder blanketed the majestic, picturesque Whistler Blackcomb mountains. Both Sunny and Karma were still asleep when I left the townhouse to step out into the brisk morning air.

  The variety of terrains at Whistler Blackcomb offered something for every level of skier. Although I considered myself skilled on the slopes, it had been a while since my last skiing excursion so I decided to start off on an intermediate Blue Run, which at Whistler was more advanced than other Blue Runs.

  As I arrived at Chair Lift Seven, a few other early birds were already in line. I looked a little closer and I noticed a man slightly overdressed for skiing. With his hooded fur-lined Parka, ski mask and oversized gloves, he was dressed for a blizzard. When he pulled his half mask down from his nose and mouth, I could see that it was Kendall!

  Why is he wearing that mask? I thought as I held in a little giggle and greeted him with a hearty, “Well, good morning early bird.” He flashed that warm smile that first caught my attention in D.C. and greeted me proudly expressing the fact that he arrived early to hold a spot in line.

  “Good looking out,” I said while checking out his attire. “Looks like you’re ready for the snow.”

  “Yeah, a brother can never be too insulated from the elements,” he responded with a hint of trepidation in his voice.

  I asked if he was nervous and he quickly shifted his posture explaining that he was just trying to warm up. As the next lift bench approached us, we got in position to get scooped up, all while managing to keep a tight grip on our ski poles. As the safety rail was locked securely in place, we were whisked up and away. As we climbed higher and higher above the snow trails and trees, Kendall kept randomly commenting how high up we were traveling. Concerned, I asked if he was okay and he dismissed my concern.

  “I’m good. Just a little rusty. Haven’t been on the slopes in a while.”

  I completely understood as it had been two years for me. I encouraged him, stating that it takes a minute to get back into the swing. “We’ll go at a nice and easy pace, cool?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “And God,” he whispered under his breath.

  So, since we were both a little nervous, not to mention stuck on a lift forced to get acquainted, I decided to shift the direction of our focus.

  “It’s so beautiful here, isn’t it?” I asked softly and I felt him checking out every detail of my face as I spoke.

  “It takes beauty to know beauty,” he answered.

  Under the goggles and frigid air freezing my face, a warm blush washed over me. “Are you always this poetically correct?” I asked.

  Kendall was sincerely smooth. “I’m serious and I’m not just talking about the external. Although your external is definitely on point,” he complimented.

  I thanked him but warned him that he didn’t really know me and I could be a hot mess on the inside. “Kendall, I could be a crazy, fragmented psycho chick trapped on this lift with a poor, unassuming guy who thinks I’m beautiful on the inside and out.” Unfazed, he agreed, “That’s true, but if you are, I don’t think you’d be divulging that info. Besides, I’ve dated my share of pretty, psycho women. If nothing else, my intuition’s not detecting crazy.” I asked if his intuition was telling him that I was emotionally unavailable and not looking for a love connection anytime soon.

  Oh, my, God! Why in the world did I go there?

  Kendall, looked puzzled as he questioned, “A love connection?” I tried to justify that forward statement by explaining that although it was presumptuous to say that, I felt the need to express it since that’s what these types of trips seem to be about for some people.

  He agreed that it was presumptuous. “Pilar, I’m not looking for a love connection either. I mean, if I were, which I am not, you clearly put me in the ‘friend’ zone last night at the party, that’s for sure.”

  Women are masters at directing men to the friend zone, but I didn’t feel that was the case. “Did I really?”
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br />   “Come on. If you were interested in exploring where our little bar-chatter could’ve taken us, we’d be someplace right now, cozied up eating pancakes in bed.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at his semi-cockiness.

  “What, you don’t like pancakes? Okay, waffles,” he said.

  I assured Kendall that I loved pancakes, but shared my point of observation. “There were a ton of other women checking you out last night and you could be having pancakes with them right now.”

  He gave a slight chuckle, licked his lips ala L.L. Cool J and simply asked, “How do you know I didn’t?”

  I leaned away looking down my nose at him, like Chris Tucker in the movie Friday.

  “Oh, well damn, I guess that’s my cue to stay out of grown folks’ business,” was my only response.

  He was quick to clarify, “I didn’t, but I could’ve. Hell, a three- some was within my reach.”

  “Okay, that was more than I needed to hear,” I responded encouraging him to feel free to keep some information to himself. “Look, I’ve been there and done that. Hell, that’s too much work. I’ve got a bad back,” he confessed and I cracked up.

  “You are hilarious,” I said as he smiled with pride that he could tickle my spirit.

  “Call me what you want, but I actually enjoy the old fashion way. Two people, preferably in love, or at least strong like,” he shared.

  I was enjoying the conversation until he mentioned the “L” word. “Love. I hate love.”

  He looked at me, curiously cocking his head to the side asking “Why? Cause your ex-man broke your heart?” I didn’t know why I felt so comfortable sharing my heart with Kendall, but I answered him with my most honest response. “I guess so. Love is... too complicated.”

  He disagreed offering that love shouldn’t be complicated when two people are in sync. “Love should be easy. Sorry to say it, but maybe you weren’t really in love.”

  Now he was starting to sound like a talk-show expert on the subject and I straight out asked him if he’d ever really been in love.

  With the straightest face, he answered, “Yep. Third grade, sophomore year of college and two years ago. I am cool on love, right now.”

  “You broke it off the last time or did she?” I asked.

  “It was mutual. We wanted different things. She wanted me for my body...” I started laughing as he defended his statement. “Hey, I take care of my temple. I work out.”

  I see you. Yes, from what I could see the night before at the party, Kendall did in deed take care of his temple. The plain black, cashmere turtle neck sweater he’d worn hugged his chiseled chest and arms and there appeared to be no beer belly hiding underneath.

  “Anyway, I just wanted her heart and I don’t think she fully trusted me with it,” he continued. “She had a lot of issues from her past and I thought I could fix her. Instead, I found myself constantly paying for another man’s mistake and after a while, I resented her and it just went from bad to worse. I know that sounds cold.”

  “No, it actually makes sense,” I reassured him.

  He decided to flip the script. “Okay, Miss Pilar, since you made me open up about my past, I have a question for you.”

  “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean for you to open up old wounds,” I said. “I just wanted to know if I’m the only one on this lift who knows the pain of being dumped. Misery loves company.”

  He grabbed my hand. “Well misery, you’re not alone. I’ve been on both sides of the dumping. Either way, it sucks.”

  We had been slowly escalated to the top of the mountain for what seemed a long time, but I thoroughly enjoyed our engaging, honest conversation. “So, what did you want to ask me?” I prodded hoping he wasn’t tired of our discussion.

  Kendall was distracted as he looked around and realized how high in the air we had risen during our in-depth conversation. “Where is this lift taking us, Switzerland?”

  “That ’s what you wanted to ask me?” I tried turning the conversation back on us.

  “No. What made you say yes to your ex’s proposal?” At that moment the lift made a sudden, jolting stop. Petrified he yelled, “Whoa, whoa, whoa! What’s going on?”

  I tried to reassure him, reminding him that the lifts do that from time to time. “Relax, Kendall. You’re in good hands.”

  I guess that calmed his nerves because he smiled at me. “Yeah, I’m good, I’m good.”

  The lift started climbing again and as I looked ahead, I realized our conversation would be ending soon. “We’re almost there. To answer your question about what made me say yes, it’s simple. He was perfect.”

  Kendall shook his head. “No such thing.” “I meant, he was perfect for me,” I clarified.

  Now we were traveling really high above a forest of trees that looked like they had been there since the Ice Age.

  “Oh shiiiit!” he blurted out.

  “What?” I asked, startled by his sudden outburst.

  “I just saw a guy flying top speed just missing a tree,” he explained.

  “Exciting, huh? I can’t wait.” I poised myself, ready to exit the lift.

  “Oh yeah, that fresh powder is calling my name,” he said with a slight hint of sarcasm. “Look, I know you’re ready to ski, so we can talk about Mr. Perfect later. Or not.”

  “That’s fine. I’d like to talk about it. It would be good for me to get a male perspective.” I stopped there because I didn’t want to do any more talking. As the lift approached the turnabout landing, I looked at him and gleefully said, “Let’s go!”

  The lift arrived at the drop off point, and I pointed my skis upward and glided gracefully off the chair. Kendall’s landing was not so smooth as he hopped off and took a nose dive into the snow. The ski attendant stopped the lift just long enough for him to get out of the way and I quickly skied over to him.

  “Omigod, are you okay?”

  He laughed it off. “Just miscalculated my landing. I’m cool.” He awkwardly got up on the skis. He waved to the passengers behind us and yelled out, “Sorry folks!”

  I led the way on a flat part of the terrain where we both took a moment to check out the amazing 360-degree view. So enchanting it looked like we were in the movie Frozen. You didn’t often find yourself in another country, at the top of a breathtaking, mountainous setting, and this moment was a definite photo opportunity.

  Before we went any further, I asked Kendall if he minded snapping a picture of me.

  He eagerly obliged, “My pleasure.”

  I handed him my phone, struck a pose and said, “I’m ready!”

  Kendall seemed to enjoy his role as photographer and directed me, “On three, say SKI! One...two... three!”

  “Skiiii” I yelled out as he took the liberty of snapping a series of photos. I found out later that he had focused solely on me, cropping out all of the scenery.

  It was so easy and comfortable hanging with him and right after I thanked him and put my phone away, I confessed, “I’m glad you’re here, Kendall. I hate skiing alone and since my girlfriends both prefer snowboarding, I’m usually the lone wolf.”

  I realized Kendall didn’t hear a word I said because his attention was diverted toward something over my shoulder. I called his name snapping him out of his trance and all he could say was, “Did you see how fast that guy was going?”

  I shook my head and asked him with a slight giggle in my voice, “Are you ready to go down the hill?”

  “You have no idea. I’ll follow you.”

  After a group of skiers and boarders zoomed past us, I started out skiing the trail ahead and Kendall followed in an awkward beginner’s “snow plow” formation. It felt good to be back on the slopes and the fresh powder was fun, but quite a workout to maneuver through.

  I picked up speed through the fresh patch of snow, but then, I heard the sound of skis crossing each other and an icy crunch as Kendall fell on his butt. I stopped long enough for him to use his poles to push back up and when he gave me the thumb
s up, I took off in a short, zig zag formation, soon speeding in my own rhythm.

  I hope he likes what he sees.

  I was acutely aware of the view he had of me from behind. My fitted classic black ski pants revealed what I was working with and that this girl meant business on the slopes. Soon, I noticed his speed picking up and he managed to straighten from the snow plow to a full-on, top racer’s speed position. I became nervous as he suddenly whipped right past me because he did not look like he was in control. Within seconds, Kendall had skied way ahead of me, over a number of moguls that caused his speed to pick up even more.

  I tried to follow him, but soon he disappeared over a small ledge of snow and all I could hear was the sound of Kendall yelling, “Helllllp!”