Snow in Love

by Claire Ray

  “Deal.”

  My father is six foot five, but I have never once felt the kind of fear of him that I do of my mother, who isn’t much taller than five feet. When we pulled into our driveway, she was standing on the front stoop with her arms crossed over her chest. My brother, Brian, was leaning out the second-story window. Tiffany was with him. She was trying to hold his legs so that he could lean farther out the window to hear the punishment.

  We got out of the truck, and my father walked forward. “Hey, honey,” he said to my mother, sweeping her up for a kiss on the cheek. He always lifted her up to his level, sometimes just to have a conversation. As I moved toward the door, knowing that I’d have to pass her to get inside, I could hear him say, “Go easy. She feels bad enough.”

  When I stood in front of my mother, my father conveniently walked inside the house, though he lingered by the screen door. He pumped his fist at me, a signal that I should be strong.

  Before I could say anything, Brian let out a squeal that sounded like a cat in the middle of a nighttime fight. “Eeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyyowwwwwwww! You’re scratching me!”

  Without even taking her eyes from me, she shouted, “Brian Bartholomew Whitman, if you fall out of that window I am going to kill you!”

  “I’m not doing anything!” he countered, before saying in a strangled, quieter voice to Tiffany, “Bring me in! Bring me in!”

  I shot him a death glare but recognized my opportunity and attempted to go around my mother.

  Her arm shot out and reeled me in. She looked up at me, her hands gripping my arms.

  “Mom, I just lost track of time. I’m really sorry.”

  She pursed her lips and assessed me. If she were reading my mind, I hoped that she’d have the good sense to skip to the ending. “Go wash up. We’re having a family lunch.”

  As far as punishments went, family lunches were manageable. Even if they included Brian.

  My mother kept her temper in check, and other than telling me that I couldn’t go to Anchorage that night to go shopping with Erin and Abby, there didn’t seem to be much of a punishment in sight. So I spent most of the day playing video games with Brian and Tiffany.

  “You have to shoot that guy or he’s going to—I told you. Now you’re dead. I told you,” Brian said to Tiffany, who was on her knees on our love seat, her hair flying around in all sorts of directions, her cheeks red, and her face screwed up in a ball of concentration.

  “That’s not how I do it!”

  “That’s why you’re dead.”

  “You’re the one who’s dead!” And she let fly a karate chop with her left leg that nearly took my brother’s head off.

  This, as I had ascertained from my day with them, was how they communicated. They fought and then lashed out and then quieted down and then fought some more. The two of them seemed to be blissfully enjoying themselves. I sank down into the couch cushions. “Let me play. It’s my turn.”

  “Jessie, you can play after Tiffany’s dead.”

  “She just died!”

  “Jessie, I’ll tell you when,” Brian stated matter-of-factly.

  My brother was chivalrous, and it burned me up to be witnessing how easy it was for these two to get along. When did it get so complicated? I guessed that sometime between sixth grade and junior year, the whole balance of the world became topsy-turvy on its axis. I wished for the simpler days when karate-chopping a boy in the head let him know that he was yours forever.

  “Okay. Your turn.” Tiffany threw her controller at me. It landed on my lap. I handed it back to her.

  “You can go.”

  She eyed me suspiciously.

  “Take it!” Brian commanded. “Before she changes her mind.”

  “Give me your turn,” I spat.

  He pulled the controller to his chest and turned his body, as if he were protecting it from me. “No way.”

  Tiffany kicked him again. “You have to share!”

  “Hey!” I reached out to keep her from landing another foot on my brother’s arm. But the two of them pushed me away and started laughing.

  I couldn’t take the tween-love show anymore, so I wandered into the kitchen. I stared out the back doors, at the snow. The deer with her baby was grazing again. When they ambled out of our yard, I let myself out onto the back porch.

  I sat on one of our deck chairs, pulling up my knees for warmth. I wondered where Will was, and then reminded myself that I should be thinking about Jake, about what he was thinking about our time on the mountain. After five minutes of this chilly self-reflection, I felt a buzzing on my hip.

  It was my cell phone, with a text.

  WHERE R U?

  From Jake. My fingers flew across the keyboard.

  GROUNDED 4 NIGHT.

  Two seconds later:

  2 BAD. LOOK TO UR LEFT.

  I did. And Jake was hiding in the trees in my backyard, wearing the same thin coat he’d worn that time I saw him on his porch, the time when he ran from me.

  He smiled and then punched something into his cell phone.

  SAFE TO SIT?

  I looked up, grinned, and nodded.

  He walked over to me, pulled a chair close, and sat.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Hey,” he responded.

  “You in any trouble?” I asked.

  “Nah. Your mom didn’t tell anybody anything, just that the visibility was too bad for your dad to fly.”

  “Oh,” I said, looking into my house involuntarily for my parents. They’d covered for us. “That was cool.”

  “Yep.”

  I refastened my arms around my legs.

  Jake’s foot tapped the floor.

  I took a deep breath. I was not going to say anything. I repeated this in my head. I was not going to say anything.

  He looked to me, then back into my house, and then at me. “Can we go in? I’m freezing.”

  “I’m not saying anything first,” I responded.

  He looked taken aback, and then when he regained his composure, he said, “Okay.”

  I raised my eyebrows at him.

  He didn’t say anything either. He slid my chair toward him. Then he reached out, held my hand, leaned in, and kissed me. It would’ve been an amazing moment, except for the screeching sound we heard coming from just behind us at the door.

  “Jake Reid! I’m telling my sister!” Tiffany shouted while my brother held his sides to contain his laughter and pointed at us.

  Chapter 17

  It took a few days, but finally, my winter break was proceeding the way it was supposed to.

  The morning after Tiffany shrieked into the night, I was in the middle of my normal angsty routine at Snow Cones with Erin and Abby when there arrived a dozen roses. Abby clapped her hands. Erin cast a doubtful eye over the entire scene.

  They were from Jake, with a card that said that he had a lot to make up for.

  Erin wanted to know what seventeen-year-old sent roses, but I ignored her.

  We were officially back together that afternoon.

  He broke up with Evie the way he should have broken up with me. Face-to-face, with no kissing and no mixed messages. This made me feel only slightly better, though when he told me that she was going back to Boise with her father early, I felt terrible all over again.

  We returned to the way we’d been over the years. We spent our days skiing and our afternoons lingering at the Mountain Diner or some such place. We talked about taking a trip to Glacier National Park in the summer, we talked about going to college together, we talked about his father wanting to move to Willow Hill full-time.

  The only difference was in me. I kept looking for Will, despite my best intentions to let my silly crush go. Each time I caught sight of him, he was either surrounded by a flock of blond freshmen or teaching out-of-towners the finer points of leaping into the air with your snowboard. The one time he caught my eye, he brought his finger to his brow in a salute.

  “You can’t just break up with him without
saying anything!” Abby scolded me one morning while we were looking up Facebook pages in my room.

  “I’m not dumping anybody! We weren’t together!”

  I hated when Abby thought ill of me, but she had every reason to. I was avoiding actually talking to Will because I wanted to pretend that I didn’t care about him at all. If I talked to him, my stomach would flip and then I’d know I was lying to myself. But by not talking to him, I was essentially doing to him what Jake had done to me. Breakup by silent treatment.

  Then there was the matter of the dance. Abby refused my requests to rent a tuxedo for Jake. She claimed she didn’t have the time to take his measurements.

  So the next day, I went to visit Erin at work.

  “What’s up?” she said, eating carrot sticks behind the counter. “You’ve got about five minutes before Mean Agnes shows up here with a broomstick, shooing you out.”

  “Is Will around?”

  Erin’s eyes widened. “I’ll get him here.” She whipped out her cell phone and texted him.

  “What, he jumps when you call?”

  “Something like that.”

  I grabbed a carrot stick and chewed it thoughtfully. “Erin, is Will like a brother to you?”

  “Huh?”

  “It’s just, I don’t understand why you don’t want to date him.”

  Erin shrugged her shoulders. “It’s like, I don’t get that butterfly feeling when I look at him. You know?”

  I looked at her. I did know.

  Just then, Will bounded into the lodge. “Needed me, doll cakes?” he said to Erin before he spotted me. He slowed his steps and even looked like he was surprised to see me. The butterflies Erin had just mentioned were now flying around like caged birds in my stomach.

  He looked good. His hair was sweaty and his face was red. I suddenly couldn’t catch my breath.

  Erin grimaced at him. “Not me. Her.” She pointed at me, and then warned, “Take it outside. I’m not filing any more of Agnes’s stupid receipts from the 1980s.”

  “Okay, okay.” Then he took my arm and tried to lead me out the door. “Ice cream on you?”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  We walked to Snow Cones and he waited in a booth while I piled all his favorite flavors into the biggest dish I could find. When I put it in front of him, he ate half of it before saying anything. I was about to scream when he finally looked at me. “I haven’t seen you around much.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been busy.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “I was waiting for our fake breakup.” He smiled at me and the butterflies started flying again.

  “Will,” I exhaled. He put his spoon down and looked at me. I noticed that his eyes were blue and quite serious. He was holding his breath too.

  “Yeah?”

  “Um. I know I haven’t talked to you since the trip and all, but about the dance—”

  “You’re going with Jake, I know.”

  “No!”

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “Well, the tux is rented, and Abby altered it to fit you.”

  He blinked. “So you still want to go together?”

  “Um. Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

  He looked at me. “What about the guy?”

  “He understands. He’s not going now, because he broke up with Evie and everything.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “Listen, I know I’ve asked so much of you this break—”

  “It’s this important for you girls to show up Sabrina?”

  My mouth fell open. “How’d you know?”

  “Please. It’s not really a secret how much you three hate her.”

  I bit my lip. When Will said that, it made us sound like horrible, horrid human beings. “Well, whether we win or not, Abby worked really hard on these outfits. I don’t want to disappoint her.”

  He leaned back and rested his arms on the edge of the booth. “I’ll take you. No worries.” Then he climbed from the booth and walked out of the shop without a backward glance.

  Chapter 18

  The dress came out exactly as Abby had planned. White netting cascaded around me like a glacier. The underskirt was soft and shimmered. Sequins sewn into the bodice caught the light and glittered.

  Abby swept my hair up off my neck, and Erin handed me the prettiest pair of diamond earrings I’d ever seen.

  “Those are yours?” Abby shrieked when she saw them.

  Erin smirked. “You two know so little about me.”

  Once my transformation was complete, the three of us made a dramatic exit, descending down my stairs as if we were Mary Poppins traveling by fluffy white cloud. When she saw me, my mother began to cry.

  My father took pictures, then drove us over to the resort. My dress barely fit into the cab of the truck.

  “What’s wrong with that kid anyway? You should be picked up. I should be met with.” My father was snarling.

  “Dad, it’s just easier this way,” I replied, nudging Abby in her side to stop her laughter. Erin had left us early, to make sure all the decorations in the resort ballroom met with Mean Agnes’s approval.

  “That kid’s just a big softy. Can’t even talk to the father of the girl he’s dancing with?”

  “Dad, I told you, I’m going with Will, not Jake.”

  My father took his eyes off the road for two seconds to catch my eye. “Oh. In that case, it’s all good.”

  Now Abby’s laughter was threatening to spill out of her.

  “Dad, that’s a double standard.”

  “No, it’s not. I know that kid can take care of himself and therefore can take care of you. I don’t think Soft Jake could get himself out of a jam, if you know what I mean.”

  I didn’t, actually, know what he meant.

  My father pulled up to the resort and put the gear in park. Then he descended from the cab, came over to my side, and opened the door for me.

  “You do look very pretty, honey,” he whispered, bending low so I could hear him. “I’m proud of you.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” I whispered back.

  “Not too late. If you’re not back by eleven, I’m coming in with my shotgun.” This, unfortunately, he didn’t whisper.

  Once he hopped back into his truck and sped off, Abby finally let out her breath. “I don’t think that was a joke.”

  “No,” I agreed as I tried to adjust the sleeves of the dress. I was wearing a white faux-fur-lined wrap that Abby had sewn to go with the ensemble, and it was remarkably warm. “You should sell these,” I said to her, twirling the cape around so she knew what I was talking about. “It’s warmer than Will Parker’s coat!”

  “Yeah?” Abby grinned. She stood back and admired me. “I can’t believe how pretty you are! People are staring!”

  I turned from her and for the first time noticed the stream of dressed-up couples pouring through the resort’s front gate. And Abby was right. As they walked by, they nodded appreciatively at me.

  “You should be really proud.” I clutched her hand.

  Abby squeezed and prodded me into another twirl. The cape fanned out as I did. “Even if you don’t win, I feel really good about this!”

  “You should. You should be really, really proud!”

  “Wow.”

  The two of us turned to the sound of the voice, which came from behind Abby. Cam Brock stood near the resort’s front entrance with his buddy Jay.

  “Whitman, look at you!” Cam exclaimed.

  I blushed and put my head down. “Thanks,” I said. Abby was suddenly obsessed with my shoes.

  “Oh, hey, Abby,” Cam said, shoving his hands into his black tuxedo pockets.

  There was a moment of silence, so to save us all, I said, “No coat? You cold?”

  “Nah,” he said. “Like it?” He held out the edges of his jacket to display his threads. Abby kept her head down. My heart was breaking for her.

  “Yeah, um, well, we should go inside,” I said. “Have
you seen Will?”

  He gestured to the parking lot. “His truck is here. He’s probably inside.”

  “Okay, well—”

  “Yeah, I gotta go pick up—” He shoved his hands back in his pockets, and Jay punched his arm.

  “You’re lame, man.”

  “Shut up.” He punched him back. Boys had a way of punching each other when they should have been expressing their feelings. Cam had some serious nerve making conversation with us, and the deepening shade of red on Abby’s face made me more determined than ever to stomp all over Sabrina’s heart by winning this contest.

  “Anyway. See you guys. Bye, Ab,” he said. She still hadn’t looked up. Finally he walked away, around to the parking lot.

  She stepped closer to me and clutched my arm. “I wish he’d forget I existed. It’d be easier that way.”

  I rubbed her arm in support and then promptly became distracted. There, in the doorway, stood Will Parker, in a black tuxedo jacket and black tie with a white rose in his lapel. His hair looked angelic against the black. His skin was tan. My stomach was on the floor. I chanted a new mantra in my head: Jake. Jake. Jake.

  He began to walk toward us and then I saw that Erin was with him. She wore a black hooded sweatshirt—the hood was up over her head—and a pair of dark corduroy pants. Her hair was in two long pigtailed braids. When she saw me, she jumped up and down and clapped. “You’re pretty!”

  “Thanks,” I muttered. I was concentrating on restoring my breath. I couldn’t remember ever seeing Will in anything other than snow boots or sneakers.

  He didn’t say anything when he joined our group. Erin looked from him to me and back to him, then nudged my arm. “Okay. Well, do plenty of things I wouldn’t do. Come on, Ab. I’m going to sneak you in through the cafeteria.”

  Abby grasped my arms as if to hug me, but then just shook me a little. Then the two of them left me and Will out there in the entryway.

  He handed me three stalks of lilies. I hadn’t noticed that he was holding them. His hand closed over mine when I reached for them. “Here.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Really.”

  “Okay,” I said. Suddenly I had an attack of Abby-itis. I couldn’t look at him, for some reason, and my stomach felt all flighty again.