by Adele Huxley
That was one thing the therapist my mom sent me to never understood. She claimed she did, but I could tell she never really got it. It was like all the joy in my life had been tainted. Every time I saw a beautiful sunset, a cute puppy, anything that might’ve brought a little joy to my life, a dark thought would pop into my head. Dad will never see anything like this again. Like a little black cloud that floated above every single thing that might have made me happy, I couldn’t help it. Oh, he might see it, but it won’t be Dad.
“Train yourself to not think these things,” the therapist had said.
“It’s not like I fucking try. Like I am walking around actively sabotaging my own life. You think I want this to happen?” I had asked her.
Then she gave me some crap about how we can’t control what happens to us but we can control how we react. All she and my mom ever talked about was me trying to find a bit of happiness. Yet all the things that made me happy, the people that distracted me just enough, were considered bad influences. So fuck it. I won’t look for the joy and be left disappointed. I’ll live in the cold and darkness.
I shook the morbid thoughts from my head and clicked the last binding into place. Gingerly pushing myself up from the edge, I allowed gravity to take me down the slope.
I lost track of how many times I went down the mountain. With music in my ears, new friends on the horizon, the rush of wind against my face, I caught a glimmer of a normal life. It wasn’t until I was in the gondola on the way up that I happened to glance at my phone to check the time… and saw five missed calls and a text. I wasn’t late but Liz had been trying to reach me for the better part of an hour.
Bryan has to pick us up early. Meet me at the chair as soon as you get this.
“Oh shit,” I muttered to myself. I flew down that last run with a sinking sensation. I’m in trouble…
I kicked out of my snowboard, scooped it under my arm, and jogged down the stairs. I carried it through the center of the lodge towards the giant Adirondack chair where I was supposed to meet Liz in an hour. I spotted the back of her head, Jacky on her hip, and braced myself.
She turned as I approached, almost as if she could sense me coming. “Where on Earth have you been?”
“The phone was in my pocket. I didn’t feel it…”
“What’s the point of having a phone if you never pick up when I call?” she harped.
I licked my lips and fought to keep my temper. “Like I said, I didn’t feel it vibrate. It’s not like I’m late or something. What’s the big deal, anyway?” I scanned the parking lot. “He’s not even here yet.”
She hiked Jacky back up on her hip and wiped her face with her palm. “That’s not the point.”
The gesture irritated me to no end. “Listen, I’m sorry. I’ll glue the damn thing to my forehead, okay?”
“It’s not like I ask you for much, Dani. You gotta meet me half way on this stuff. I let you go off on your own, didn’t give you a hard time when you rode over my skis, and this…”
“Fine!”
“You know, you think you have such a hard life but…” she stopped herself short, tempering her tone. “I don’t care if you don’t like me, but you have to listen to me while you stay with us.”
“What? You think you’re my fucking mother now or something?” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I even acknowledged them in my mind. The look of shocked hurt on her face made me wish I could eat them, but my stubbornness made me stand strong. “Besides, you do care if I like you.”
Liz stared at me for a moment, her expression a mixture of emotions I couldn’t quite read. After a short pause, she breathed, “Bryan’s inside looking for you. I’m going to call him, let him know that I found you, and we can go back to the house.”
I shrugged, stuffed my hands in my pockets, and strolled away. I can’t describe what got into me sometimes. It was like I was possessed. I lashed out and hurt people even when I didn’t mean to. A monster took over, used my voice and injected such venom. And then when a part of me wanted to apologize, I found it to be the hardest of all. I didn’t want to be such a bitch to Liz, honestly I didn’t, but Christ she was annoying!
“He’s getting the car,” Liz said tartly when she returned.
A few minutes later, Bryan rolled up to the front in their SUV. “There are my ladies, and my handsome man,” he said with a broad smile. He first looked at Liz, then to me, and seemed to understand the tension between us. “Have a good day on the mountain?”
“Oh, the best,” Liz quipped sarcastically.
“Well, I hope you enjoyed the lodge because we’ll be spending a lot of time up there the next couple days.” He talked to me through the rear view mirror while Liz strapped Jack into his car seat.
“What, with Christmas or whatever?”
“No, we might evacuate,” she replied without looking at me.
“Evacuate? Up here?”
“The whole town, actually,” he said. “It’s still not completely decided, so we need to get you girls home so I can… shit, I’m so late,” he said as he saw the time on the dash.
“Bryan Marsh!” Liz exclaimed as she playfully poked his shoulder. “In front of your son, no less.”
Living with this family, a dirty vocabulary is the least of his problems, I thought as I stared out of the window.
I went straight to my room as soon as we got back to the house. Liz and I hadn’t said two words to each other the entire trip home. I had genuinely wanted to have a good day with her, or at least a good day period, so I felt shitty about screwing things up yet again. I couldn’t seem to do anything right anymore… So why keep trying?
As I fell onto the bed on my stomach, I pulled out my phone and texted Miah.
Hey. What the hell is a blizzard bash anyway? Just an excuse to drink?
A minute later, he responded.
Pretty much. Looks like it’s moved up to the lodge with the evac and all. You going up there, too?
Just then, there was a knock at my door. I groaned, still not really wanting to deal with Liz but knowing I’d have to respond at some point.
“Yeah?” I called out.
“It’s me,” Liz responded. “I brought coffee as a peace offering.”
I steeled myself, swallowing as much of my inner anger as possible. She’s just trying to be nice, I told myself. I padded over on the thick carpet and opened the door.
Liz thrust a glass mug forward, a huge swirl of whipped cream balanced on top. “It’s actually a mocha. I hope you like chocolate,” she said as she carefully handed it over. Her tone implied that she didn’t really care either way.
“Who doesn’t?” I asked with more sarcasm than I originally meant. “Do you want to come in?” I added to soften the blow.
“Sure, thanks.”
“It’s a little weird inviting you into your own guest room,” I said as I returned to the bed with my coffee.
She forced a laugh. “I guess so, but I want you to feel like you have your own space here, ya know?”
I watched as she slowly walked around the room, her arms crossed under her breasts, wandering as if she could find the right words sprinkled along on the floor somewhere. She picked up a couple knick-knacks on the mantel, fussed with the candle in the window, all while I sat sipping the mocha.
“So…” I prodded.
She spun around, clutching a stuffed reindeer with a bell around its neck. “Listen, I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot. I know I’ve been pushing you too hard, and I’m sorry. I should’ve let you take the lead and show me how much time you wanted to spend together.” As she talked, she gestured wildly with the stuffed animal, the bell jingling like the poor thing was having a seizure.
“Okay…” I said, trying not to laugh at the pathetic reindeer. Its round eyes begged for help.
“Wait, let me finish,” she said with a wave. Jingle. “I told you earlier that my mom died. I was actually younger than you are now when it happened, so I think I have a little b
it of an idea of what it’s like to lose a parent.”
I stared down at the drink in my hand. With all the trouble that had come after, I’d forgotten her confession before our first run of the day. I’d snapped, like I always did, and didn’t take the time to absorb what she’d said. Another stab of guilt pierced me.
“Not that you lost your dad,” she quickly corrected with panic. “Ugh!” she cried before she flung the stuffed animal across the room and into an armchair. Jingle, jingle.
I let out a surprised laugh and held my hand up. “Okay, okay. I’ll drink your damn coffee.”
She studied me for a minute, as if making sure I was genuinely kidding, before sitting on the end of the bed with a chuckle. “I’m sorry. This isn’t going exactly how I meant it. I wanted to apologize for freaking out on you like that. I was scared, mostly. We couldn’t find you, we’d put out messages to all the lifties and no one had scanned your pass in over an hour.”
I took a sip of the coffee and wiped the cream from my lip. “I’m sorry, too. I really didn’t mean to worry you.”
Liz’s face brightened and although it went against my natural, dour disposition, I returned the smile.
“Good! Great! I’m glad we cleared the air,” she said as she jumped to her feet. She was half way to the door when she spun around. “You should pack a bag, enough for three or four days, just in case.”
I coughed on the coffee, wiping the cream from my lip. “Four days? That’s insane.”
“I’m sure it won’t be that along, but just in case.”
Feeling good after my conversation with Dani, I quickly packed bags for all of us and set them by the front door. I’m a natural-born worrier. I paced around the living room watching the snow settle between the pine branches and fretted. The arsonist. The snow. Christmas plans. The perfect spiral ham I was going to surprise Bryan with.
“Ugh,” I grunted, frustrated with being in my head.
I put Jack in his playpen and packed up groceries. We had plenty of food up at the lodge, but leaving a full pantry behind seemed stupid. Canned food, boxed food, anything and everything that might help feed the masses. I opened the fridge and spotted the balls of chilled cookie dough and sighed. Our first Christmas in the new house, the first Christmas with Jack… I’m not much of a perfectionist, but I wanted all of this to go off without a hitch. Christmas Eve was tomorrow and nothing was going to go right. No telling stories by the fire, no Christmas Day breakfast with Jack opening his presents…
“But I can still probably bake these cookies,” I comforted myself. With Bryan back in town finalizing the details of the evacuation, I had enough time. There was no way in hell I’d be able to sit still, so I might as well make myself useful.
I turned the downstairs into a Christmas freakin’ wonderland. Christmas carols at full volume, the tree lights on, mantle glowing with electric candles. I thought about building a fire but opted to turn the Yule Log channel on instead. I collected the cookie cutters and rolling pin as the oven preheated.
I paused after slipping an apron over my head. As I gazed around the house from the center of the kitchen, I had one of those out-of-body moments where I felt like I was looking down on myself. It had to be an alternative universe. I was like George Bailey being led through his vision by Clarence, or maybe Scrooge with the Ghost of Christmas Future. Some being was showing me all the different ways my life could’ve played out if I had only made a certain choice and in a moment, I’d be ripped back to a world of violence and drugs.
Elizabeth Croyden, a mother, a wife, in an apron, about to bake a couple dozen batches of Christmas cookies… yeah, this had to be a bizarro world. But, like every time I experienced one of these odd, disjointed moments, I’d look at Jack and the truth and love of it would come crashing back down.
“Hey, little man,” I said as I kissed him quickly on the cheek. “You’re gonna help Mommy decorate the sugar cookies, aren’t you? I just need to make sure I have my camera ready because Granddad will kill me if I don’t send more photos.”
I was up to my elbows in cookie mix, humming away with the music when Dani emerged from upstairs.
“Hey,” she said, as she rounded the corner and took a seat at the dining room table. She eyed the four racks of cooling sugar cookies.
“You can have one,” I replied, watching her out of the corner of my eye as I cut and rolled out the gingerbread.
After a moment’s hesitation, she reached out and grabbed the closest one. “Thanks,” she mumbled. She had her blonde hair in a thick braid draped over her shoulder. Her tight, dark jeans and oversized sweatshirt made her look more thirteen than nearly seventeen. She pulled her heels up on the seat of the chair and hugged her knees, mournfully looking out the window.
“The snow hasn’t stopped,” I said casually. “They say we’re supposed to get twelve to eighteen before tonight. Then we’ll have a little break before the big part hits.”
She nodded slightly. “Where’s Bryan?” she asked without turning.
“Still down in town,” I replied. I opened the oven door, slid in the gingerbread trees, and set the timer. “There are a few poorer rural families who can’t get in, so they have county plows out clearing the way. Apparently evacuating an entire town takes a lot of organization. Who knew?”
Dani turned away from the window and nibbled on the cookie. “So, what. Are you and Bryan like King and Queen of Tellure Hollow or something? You guys practically run the place.”
I genuinely laughed. “It feels like it sometimes,” I replied as I wiped my hands on the apron. As I spoke, I took a mug from the cupboard, filled it with coffee, and set it down in front of her without asking. At least we both shared a deep addiction to coffee. “You know the name Marsh means something around here. As much as this area has grown, there are still people who cling to those original settler last names.”
Dani chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”
“After everything that happened here a few years back and then last year in New Zealand…” I said, sitting down with a groan. “Living here brings a certain amount of attention.”
A part of me suspected a lot of her hostility towards me was borne from the stories in the media. They hadn’t always painted me in the best light and, even though I didn’t court it, danger seemed to follow me wherever I went. Bryan was still The Blizzard, but I certainly was the one who drew the most destruction.
Dani tapped the edge of the cookie with her finger, crumbs falling onto the counter. She pressed her thumb into them before lifting it to her mouth. “Don’t you two own the mountain or something?”
“No, not exactly. We’re sort of… caretakers.” I paused for a second, wondering how deep and detailed I should go. “Do you know the story of how Bryan and I first met? All that stuff that went down?” I asked, while gesturing with my hand.
“Yeah, made me a minor celebrity in school after it happened,” she said, giving me a small grin. “Was all that true?”
“Well, I don’t know everything you heard. Most of the tabloids exaggerated quite a bit.” To be honest, it’d been so long I couldn’t even remember all the fantastical stories myself. There had been so much speculation, I could only laugh after a while. I still had the news clippings saved in a shoebox upstairs. “After the original owner, Mr. Richards, lost his son…”
“Noah, right? He’s the one you found dead,” she interrupted excitedly. “I do know all this!”
I nodded, not enjoying that particular trip down memory lane. “Right. Well after that, the town pretty much took over the resort. We’ve been loosely in charge since then. But it’s a joint effort.” We sat in silence for a few moments. I remembered those horrible few weeks of my life as if they were yesterday. It was bizarrely refreshing to talk about, though. Most people aggressively avoided bringing any of it up around me.
“I’m sorry about what happened yesterday,” Dani whispered as she chewed the last of the cookie. She couldn’t meet my eye, but I heard the sincer
ity in her voice.
“Thank you, I appreciate that.” I let her sit in silence for another moment, curious if she’d have anything else to say. I finally added, “For what it’s worth, I think you came close to hitting one of my least favorite people, so I probably owe you one.”
Dani chuckled, and for the first time I felt like we might actually get somewhere.
“And for what it’s worth, I think I’m done drinking for a long time.”
“Good to know.” Not wanting to push the issue further and risk alienating her, I changed the topic quickly. “Hey, would you mind keeping Jack distracted for a little while? I have a few things I need to check on upstairs and then maybe you can help me ice cookies?”
Dani reluctantly nodded but seemed into the idea of helping out. I suspected one of the things she missed most since her father’s accident was a normal life. I have no idea what Janet, her mother, considered normal, but I wanted to give this girl the best Christmas I could. Even under the circumstances.
I was absolutely bored out of my mind. I had gone out twice to shovel the deck and front stairs just for something to do. I sat in an overstuffed chair next to the window, leaning over the back as I watched the snow float down. It was hard to believe anything so light and gentle could cause such a fuss.
For the first time since I was a little kid, a tiny twinge of excitement about the holidays fluttered in my stomach. I think maybe it was Jack, or maybe the homey feeling Liz tried so hard to create. Even with the craziness of the evacuation and the storm, I felt that old bubble of excitement I used to get when I was young. The house looked gorgeous, like something out of a magazine. The baking gingerbread, the music, the tree…
Like a flame in a storm, the excitement snuffed with one thought. I wouldn’t have been here if the shell of Dad weren’t back home.
The phone buzzed in my hand.
When we go boarding together, I want to show you this great little off piste area I like.
~
That’s a good way to go all Sonny Bono, I suppose