Page 11 of Full Send

Veronica

Checking In

Before finally heading to the condo, we make the next stop on my itinerary - a trip to the supermarket and liquor store to stock up for the next few days. I’m not joking, this was on the plan I emailed to Lizzy and Collin for the next couple of weeks.

I need to grab a few specific things since I volunteered, well more like demanded, that I get to do most of the cooking on our nights in. Cooking has always been a passion of mine. Back in Ohio I rarely have the time to entertain and host dinners. Most of my favorite meals to cook are classic ski trip meals like chicken chili, Thai curry, and lasagna, which are meant for a large group and just don’t work well to cook for one. That is unless I want leftovers for days. Sometimes it’s just plain depressing.

At home, I largely end up spending my Sunday nights alone, making my schedule and meal prepping for the week. It’s pretty healthy, saves time, and saves money. Practical Veronica wins out again. That’s one of the reasons I’ve always enjoyedthese trips. From the old days cooking in the kitchen with my Grandma to now, where I welcome the chance to stimulate my culinary curiosity and share that passion with the ones closest to me.

After stopping in town and hitting the grocery store, we’re finally at the condo. It’s nothing exciting or glamorous, a modest two bedroom, two bathroom split level unit built in the seventies with basically no updates since then. But it’s ours, owned outright by our grandparents before leaving it to us instead of our dad, who had a strained relationship with them over his treatment of Collin and rarely ever visited them in Wyoming. Our grandparents were the most loving and supportive people, something we needed compared to our lives back home. But still, Collin and I now own this place, which is quite the accomplishment these days in Jackson.

The dated old building still has its subtle charm. A classic ski vacation condo styled on the outside like a Swiss chalet. We’re greeted by the white stucco building with charming dark wooden spindles adorning the balconies and matching dark wooden accents along the eaves of the steeply pitched roof, capped off by a set of stone chimneys poking out of it.

We walk into the ground floor entrance and into the mudroom with its wood paneled walls, painted white now in a modest attempt to modernize the place, and drop our bags. Along the wall there’s a bench that our Grandpa made for putting on ski boots, racks and hooks for skis, helmets, ski poles, and all of our other gear. In the corner there’s a closet with a stacked washer and dryer and a hamper. It’s great to be able to do laundry and not have to over pack for these longer trips.

Standing by the door, Lizzy squeezes past Collin and I frantically, looking for the bathroom.

“Thinking twice about all the mimosas now, aren’t we Lizzy?” I tease.

Watching her run into the bathroom as we step out of her way, I palm my face and shake my head. That girl.

I make my way off the landing down the half flight of steps to the open floor plan dining and living area. The room has the same painted white, wood paneled walls, stretching all the way to the lofted ceilings twenty feet overhead. I go through the dining area and sprawl out on the oversized brown leather couch in the living room, facing the floor to ceiling stone fireplace.

Oh, that fireplace.

Seeing it brings warmth to my heart, even if we don’t have a fire going yet. I can’t help but smile at all the memories of holidays spent at the condo, sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace gleefully opening presents on Christmas morning. It feels great to be here as I sink into the comfy couch and think about the memories made here.

“Collin, you’re in the bunk room right?” My voice carries across the condo as he comes in from the mudroom. Perks of an open floor plan.

“Yep. Already took the top bunk.” Oh, Collin, just like the old days. Off of the landing is another short set of stairs going up to the other bathroom and two bedrooms, ours with twin bunk beds. Ugh. So many jokes about twins with twin bunk beds over the years.

“Great. We can let Lizzy have the other bedroom to herself. Would you mind dropping my bags in the bunk room with yours?” I ask, now draped over the armrest with my head resting on my crossed arms, observing him in the doorway at the top of the landing.

“Sure thing, my lady,” he says with his best fake British accent, dipping his head and making an exaggerated curtsy. I guess he’s now the house jester too.

It feels good to be here again with him though. The last few years, my busy work schedule hasn’t allowed me to come at thesame time as him. I did come out soon after Grandpa passed, but Collin wasn’t able to that time. Being here together again just feels right, like home, more so thanhomewith our parents back in Ohio.

“Well thank you, good sir,” I reply, playing into his theatrics, my fake accent not nearly as convincing as his.

Lizzy emerges from the bathroom, a relieved look on her face.

“Well I don’t know about you guys, but I could eat. Even with lunch in town, travel still takes a lot out of me. Tonight’s curry, right?” She asks, looking back in my direction as she plops down at the dining room table.

“Yep. Thai green curry with chicken,” I say, reminding them what the menu is for tonight. I swear these two don’t listen sometimes and they’re even worse together, which is a slightly terrifying development.

Thai green curry has always been one of my favorite dishes, especially on ski trips with others. A few quality ingredients go a long way to making it great. It’s such a fun and surprisingly simple dish to cook.

Who am I kidding, when it comes to cooking nothing is simple or an afterthought with me. I literally planned out the dinners I was going to make for the nights we’re staying in this week. I even brought my favorite brand of Thai curry paste and palm sugar for tonight in my checked luggage because the stuff at the grocery store is never as good. This is also why I wouldn’t let Collin do my grocery shopping ahead of time and insisted on going today to pick my own ingredients.

I think a sense of control is one of the many reasons I love cooking. Maybe that’s why it can calm me down on some of my worst days. Unlike my professional life where I can do everything according to plan and still get nothing rewarding out of it, with cooking, there is an immediate tangible result if I dothings right. It feels calming to be in control of the outcome for a change.

Lizzy joins me in the kitchen. She’s not the most helpful, especially in the cramped kitchen, but it’s a welcome change from cooking at home, which normally means cooking alone.

“Don’t just sit around and let us ladies do all the work, Collin. Go get the good knives out. How have you been using these knives we leave out for the renters the last few days? They’re complete garbage,” I call out from the kitchen to Collin, who’s lounging in the living room.

“Hey, we’re not all cooking gurus. A knife’s a knife to me,” Collin says on his way to the closet by the mudroom.

Ever since we started renting the condo when we’re not here, we have kept a separate owner’s closet with a lock. We don’t keep too much in there, just things we don’t want renters to have free reign of.

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