by Moore,Judy
That was unexpected, Sally thought. She wasn’t sure if he meant dinner just as friends or as a date. She hadn’t been asked out since her husband died, and she wasn’t quite sure what to say. But she always had enjoyed Robbie’s company. He was a daring skier with an irreverent outlook on life and a quick sense of humor. It might be fun.
“You know, I think I would enjoy that.” She smiled.
He beamed. “I have your number in our files. I’ll call you next week.”
When Sally turned around to check the accessories department for the gifts for Helga, she found Gwen standing behind her, a turquoise ski jacket folded over her arm, listening to their conversation with a surprised grin on her face.
After they checked out and left the store, Gwen elbowed her.
“Mom, he was hitting on you,” she said with a giggle.
“I don’t think so, Gwen,” Sally said, shaking her head. “He’s an old friend. He just wanted to get together for dinner as friends.”
“Are you kidding? He was so hitting on you,” Gwen insisted. “And he’s pretty hot for a man his age.”
Hot? Robbie? She never thought of him that way. But maybe he was.
“I’m so excited,” Gwen whispered conspiratorially, taking her by the elbow. “We have to figure out what you’re going to wear before I leave. I’ll help you find the perfect outfit.”
As they walked along the main street, they passed a coffee and pastry shop.
“Want to get some hot chocolate?” Sally asked.
“That would be yummy,” Gwen said, suddenly in an ebullient mood. She gave her mother a squeeze. “I love Vail so much, Mom. It just feels so good to be home.”
Sally was glad Gwen’s mood had improved, but she would never really understand what made her daughter tick. She just knew that every time she felt at the end of her rope with her complicated daughter, the sweet, loving girl she knew was at Gwen’s core would suddenly reappear. Their relationship really hadn’t changed all that much since Gwen was twelve years old. Gwen would demand her mother leave her alone, but the second Sally started to leave, Gwen wanted to know why she was leaving. Sally sighed. Mothers and daughters. Who could figure them out?
Chapter Five
After stopping to pick up a few items in the pharmacy, Sally and Gwen shopped in some of the village boutiques and then started the drive back up the mountain. As they reached higher and higher elevations on the winding two-lane road, tiny flakes of snow began to gently touch the windshield, melting before Sally had time to turn on the windshield wipers.
The Colorado sky was bright cobalt blue with just a few wisps of clouds overhead. It was hard to imagine that a huge storm was approaching on this beautiful winter afternoon.
As they pulled up to the gate of her seventeen-acre estate, Sally punched in the key code—her late-husband’s birthday—and the black iron gates swung open. She drove the steep winding path up the mountain, navigating two 180-degree switchbacks. To the right, a three-mile ski run that the family used for skiing snaked down the mountain. They kept an old truck at a cabin at the bottom to drive skiers back up the mountain.
Rounding the next curve, the vista of the two-story mountaintop home with its beautiful sandstone and slate exterior and large columned portico came into view. The seven-thousand-square-foot home had six bedrooms, seven baths, a four-car garage, huge picture windows, and several balconies.
Pulling onto the crunchy gravel driveway, Sally saw that a white SUV had been added to the mix of vehicles in front of the house. Itʼs beginning to look like a used car lot, Sally thought. Grabbing their packages, Sally picked up the whiff of a familiar scent as they walked toward the front door. Marijuana. Stephen must have arrived.
Her youngest son, who had recently turned thirty, must have decided to drive up from Scottsdale rather than fly. One whiff and Sally understood why he wouldn’t want to go through airport security. As Sally rounded the car, she saw her handsome son leaning his tall, lanky frame against the Lexus SUV, taking one last drag on the stub of a joint. A thin woman with long black hair, dressed in jeans and an oversized sweat shirt, stood beside him smoking a cigarette. When he saw Sally, Stephen quickly threw the stub to the pavement and ground it out with his boot. “Mom! It’s so good to be home!” Stephen exclaimed, wrapping his arms around his mother.
Sally didn’t mention the marijuana. She just hoped pot was the worst he was doing now. He had developed a problem with cocaine and been in rehab for over a month earlier in the year.
“Stephen. I’ve missed you,” she told the son who had always been her favorite child, though she’d never dream of admitting it. He had wavy blond hair, deep-set blue eyes, and was clean-shaven for a change. “You look great.”
“Thanks, Mom. I’ve put on a few pounds,” he said, patting his stomach.
“You have. I can tell.”
The same couldn’t be said for Stephen’s wife Rachel who looked more emaciated than ever in the big black sweat shirt that looked like it could swallow her. Her face gaunt, her skin pasty, and her stringy hair dangling half way down her back, she looked like a bit player in a vampire movie.
“And Rachel. So good to see you,” Sally said in a welcoming tone, taking a step toward her daughter-in-law.
Rachel didn’t move forward to hug her mother-in-law. Instead, she gave Sally a little wave of her hand with the cigarette in it and made a slight movement of the lips that Sally assumed was supposed to be some sort of a smile. Taking in Rachel’s cadaver-like appearance, Sally felt sympathy for her, but hated to think how much of her husband’s money had gone up the noses of her son and daughter-in-law.
Sally set her packages on the front step and returned to the Jeep to get the heavier box containing the ski boots.
Gwen strode over to hug her brother, barely acknowledging Rachel’s presence.
Pointedly sniffing the air, she whispered in his ear. “See you’re up to your old tricks again.”
Stephen frowned. “I need more than that to deal with this family.”
Still speaking in a hushed tone, Gwen said, “How could you do that here? You know how much it upsets Mom.”
Stephen shrugged. “I was being careful. I thought she was inside. You two snuck up on us.”
Rachel wrapped her arms around her shivering body, dusting snowflakes off her shoulder. Her teeth looked like they were actually chattering. Stephen put his arm around her and guided her toward the front door. “Let’s go inside. It’s freezing here. It was in the eighties when we left Arizona.”
Sally walked up carrying her ski boots and eyed Rachel’s cigarette. She raised an eyebrow at Stephen.
“Uh, Rachel,” Stephen said uncomfortably. “You need to put the cigarette out. Remember, Mom doesn’t allow any smoking in the house.”
Rachel scowled, took another long drag, reluctantly dropped the cigarette on the front steps, and theatrically stomped it out with her shoe.
“How long do we have to stay?” Rachel whispered to Stephen in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear.
Chapter Six
When they entered the foyer, Gwen took her packages immediately upstairs while the others went into the living room. The huge room was chillier than normal. Sally glanced at the fireplace and saw two unburned logs that didn’t even look like they’d been ignited. Not surprising, Sally thought. Great fire, Glen.
“What a gorgeous tree, Mom,” Stephen said, stopping to admire it.
Rachel eyed it briefly, and then turned away with disinterest. She crossed to the loveseat by the fireplace and wrapped herself in the quilted afghan that lay folded across its back, pulling her knees up to keep herself warm. She started playing with her cell phone. “My phone’s not working,” she complained, pushing the buttons harder.
“Oh, we still don’t get cell service up here. We have to
use the landline,” Sally told her.
“Great,” Rachel said sarcastically, flipping her phone back into her purse. “It just keeps getting better and better.”
If she doesn’t want to be here, why does she bother coming? Sally wondered with annoyance. Doesn’t she have some family she can go visit? Sally would never understand how her charming, sensitive son had ended up with Rachel. It would be so much nicer if Stephen came by himself.
Aloud, she said, “It’s drafty in here, Stephen. Help me bring in some firewood. Let’s build a fire that’s worthy of Vail!”
Stephen grinned. “Sure, Mom.”
He followed her to the huge woodpile of fir and poplar logs on the deck behind the swimming pool and almost bumped into Helga as she came around the corner, loaded down with logs.
“Helga!ˮ Stephen exclaimed. “Merry Christmas. Great to see you.”
Helga nodded and gave Stephen a quick smile, but said nothing.
“Let me help you with those,” Stephen offered. “That’s too many. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“No, I fine, Stephen. I very strong,” Helga told him, continuing toward the house without stopping to talk.
Stephen and Sally both filled their arms with as many logs as they could hold.
“I’m embarrassed, Mom,” Stephen said sheepishly. “Helga can carry more wood than I can.”
“She’s amazing,” Sally said. “She grew up on a dairy farm in Sweden and had to carry huge jugs of milk. She told me she could carry three twenty pound jugs with each hand. She’s as strong as any man.”
“Remind me to never get on her wrong side.” Stephen laughed.
They went inside and filled the brass firewood rack next to the fireplace to the top. Sally liked to leave the building of the fire to Stephen. She always tried to find activities to keep him busy and his mind occupied with thoughts other than his desire for drugs. Smoking pot this afternoon definitely wasn’t a good sign.
Glancing at Rachel as she started to leave the room, Sally couldn’t tell if she was awake or asleep. She looked like a zombie sitting there on the couch and seemed to be under the influence of something. Sally wanted to get her out of the living room.
“Rachel?” she said softly, touching her shoulder.
“Hmmm?” was her daughter-in-law’s only response. She didn’t move or lift her face.
“Let me show you up to your room. You’ll be more comfortable there,” Sally said, taking hold of her suitcase and rolling it toward the staircase.
“I’m okay here,” Rachel said drowsily, pulling the afghan tighter.
“No, no. Come on,” Sally insisted. “You’ve had a long drive, and you must be exhausted. Let’s go on up. You’ll feel better after a good, hot shower. Maybe you’d like to get in the hot tub later.”
“Yes, go on up, Rach,” Stephen said, turning away from the fireplace to speak to his wife. “I’ll be up in a while.”
Rachel reluctantly dragged herself up from the loveseat and picked up her shoulder bag.
She followed Sally through the living room, the foyer, and up the staircase without uttering a word. Sally had never seen Rachel at a loss for words but kept telling herself that she should be glad she didn’t have to endure one of Rachel’s usual, “I’m the expert on everything, and you’re an absolute idiot,” monologues.
Rachel came to a dead halt at the top of the staircase. “Are you putting us in the same room as last year?”
“I was planning on it,” Sally answered, turning to look at her.
“I didn’t like that room.”
Sally wasn’t sure what to say. Helga had prepared Stephen’s childhood room for them. Stephen always stayed in it when he was home, and there was no other bedroom available.
“Was there something wrong with it? It was Stephen’s room growing up.”
“I didn’t like it. It’s too small and there’s no balcony. I need it to you know—” she gestured puffing a cigarette.
“Well, the only other room ready that has a balcony, is Lance’s room, but he
likes—”
“We’ll take that one,” Rachel said, moving quickly past Sally and rushing down the hallway to Sally’s older son’s room. When she got there, she hurried inside and shut the door behind her.
“Wait, Rachel. Lance will be here any time now, and he will definitely want his room—”
“Just leave the suitcase by the door!” Rachel yelled through the closed door, cutting her off.
Sally could feel her blood pressure rising for the third or fourth time today. “This isn’t a hotel, Rachel.” She tried the door, but Rachel had locked it. Sally could hear the sliding glass door to the balcony slam shut.
Chapter Seven
Livid, Sally went to her bedroom and splashed water on her face. It didn’t help. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and could see that her face had the same red blotches that always appeared when she got angry. She took a couple of deep breaths and tried to compose herself before going back downstairs.
When she entered the living room, she saw leaping flames in the fireplace and Stephen pointing proudly to the hearth. “Now, that’s a fire!” he said.
Sally tried to smile. She really did appreciate her son’s efforts. But Stephen could tell by her expression that she was angry.
“What’s wrong, Mom?” he asked, coming to her side.
Sally didn’t want to upset Stephen right after he arrived, so in as calm a voice as she could manage, she told him, “Rachel said she doesn’t want to stay in your room again this year because it doesn’t have a balcony so she can smoke out there. She took her things into Lance’s room and has locked herself in. But you know how Lance is about his room, Stephen.”
Stephen grimaced. “That’s going to be a problem.”
“Can you ask her to move back into your room? We don’t have any other bedrooms. I don’t get much company, so I converted one of the upstairs bedrooms into a study, and Helga has the downstairs one.”
Stephen looked doubtful. “I’ll try, Mom, but you know how headstrong Rachel is. If it has anything to do with her smoking, she won’t budge. I’ve tried to get her to quit so many times, but she won’t even try.”
Just then a commotion broke out in the front yard as snow and leaves began swirling and flying into the windows. A whirring sound became louder and louder, and when Sally and Stephen looked out the window, a helicopter was about to touch down in the front yard. Lance had arrived.
Sally’s oldest son had been obsessed with helicopters since he was a child when Sally and her husband let him ride along on ski trips. In Los Angeles, he owned his own helicopter and used it more than his car. He rented the one he was landing in the front yard in Denver.
Sally and Stephen put on their coats and hurried out onto the front porch. The wind from the swirling blades blew the branches of the nearby aspen trees and threw a sheet of snow through the air. Sally and Stephen stood under the portico for protection. They backed up as far as they could and put up their hands to block their faces from the flying snow.
When the helicopter came to a standstill, the pilot’s door opened and Lance jumped out. Zipping up his hooded blue ski jacket, he ran around the helicopter to open the passenger door. A woman with bright blonde hair stepped out wearing a long leopard coat and fur-lined boots. She took her husband’s hand. Under her other arm, she carried a small Yorkie, also dressed in a leopard outfit.
Lance led his wife, Yvette, to the door as if she were a princess. Yvette kissed the air in the vicinity of both of her mother-in-law’s cheeks. Sally pulled back trying to avoid the second air kiss, but she wasn’t fast enough to get out of the way. Yvette’s Yorkie licked her on the cheek.
“Sally, darling, I’ve missed you so.”
“Well, thank you, Yvett
e. That’s sweet of you to say,” Sally said. She usually found Yvette’s compliments shallow and meaningless, but today she was happy to hear anything positive come out of anyone’s mouth. “And who is this little cutie?” she asked, scratching the Yorkie under its chin.
“This is my Duchess,” Yvette bubbled, as proud as any mother of a newborn. “Lance gave her to me for my birthday.”
“Well, she is just adorable,” Sally complimented.
Lance hugged his mother and slapped his brother on the back. “Stephen,” he said. “How have you been? Looks like you’ve put on a few pounds.”
“I have,” Stephen said, pleased. “It looks like you might have too,” he said, glancing at his brother’s rotund belly. “If we need a Santa Claus, we know who’ll play the part.”
Lance laughed good-naturedly. He had the same blue eyes and blond hair as his younger brother, but Lance made two of Stephen.
“All those great restaurants in L.A. are just too much temptation. And we’ve hired a private chef. Used to have his own television show. Now it’s just about impossible to keep the pounds off.” He laughed, adding, “You and Rachel will have to come out. Where is Rachel? Is she here?”
Stephen nodded. “Uh, I’ll tell you inside. Let’s go in. It’s freezing.”
“Heavy snow’s expected for tonight. It’s supposed to get down to four degrees,” Lance said. “We may be snowed in.”
Chapter Eight
“Beautiful tree, Mom. You outdo yourself every year,” Lance said cheerily.
“Yes, it’s just gorgeous, Sally,” Yvette agreed.
Goldie and Silver came running into the room and jumped up on Yvette, trying to get to the Yorkie. The tiny dog yelped and climbed up onto Yvette’s shoulder. The Yorkie’s entire body was trembling.