Page 23 of Going Down

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Keep your face to the sunshine and you will never see shadows

His bare chest covered in a life jacket, Dash’s kayak slips and slides down the slope into a muddy lake of melted snow. He holds a paddle over his head until the momentum wains. Then dips it into the water, racing to the finish line, and placing first in his heat.

I clap for my soggy, snowsport Olympian and he pulls me into a hug.

“There’s still time, Kat. They’re running more heats.” The resort holds fun events the last week it’s open. Dash has participated in most, challenging and encouraging his students to do the same. I’ve cheered him on whenever possible, watching him intentionally lose to kids all week.

“I don’t know,” I say, turning my head to my shoulder. I have on a short-sleeve shirt. The bruise on my shoulder is draining. Ugly yellow, like a overripe banana, paints my tattoo in the areas where there is no ink.

After Ski Patrol got Hunter and Krissa back to First Aid, I wound up being the third patient treated. In triage, dear old Dad took over, sending me for x-rays at the nearest hospital to be on the safe side. Dash and Cadence took turns holding my hand. Not that I was a big baby about it, but the moral support was nice. The ER doc and my dad insisted Chip take me off rotation for a week so that I could heal. Capote kept me company after Cadence flew home.

The next day, Chip sent Dash back to the tiny house with a get-well goody bag filled with hot chocolate tokens and fortune cookies. The selfie Dash snapped of me opening it was only surpassed in likes by the one posted of Krissa and me with chocolate mustaches. I made sure we celebrated her heroism and on the promise for her to become an honorary Ski Patroller.

“You should do it, Kat! You can do anything.” Krissa clutches my hand with a gentle tug.

“Come on, boys versus girls.” Dash taunts.

“I don’t think that’s fair! Krissa and I will beat you and Hunter in a heartbeat.”

With their parent’s permission, the four of us hike up the path to waiting kayaks. Dash winks at me as the starting gun goes off. We hold back a second longer so that the kids earn first and second place.

Saying goodbye when the event ends, Dash and I go back to the trailer. The crock pot is set, proving consistency pairs well with Dash’s fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants nature.

He massages my sore collarbone, deciding I deserve a consolation prize for my third-place finish. I gladly accept the award that leaves me writhing underneath him.

The moon shines in one window ascending as the sun sets out the opposite. Spring isn’t far off. The days are getting longer and the time we have with one another is coming to an end.

Actual closing day is bittersweet. Few of the runs are open. They’re mushy from the melting snowpack, and the resort can’t blow more powder because the overnight temperatures are unseasonably high. Give it ten days and we’ll get another storm, but by then there won’t be anything for new snow to stick to. The disappointment of the spring melt for people like us is only made better by the crocus and daffodils poking their heads out of the earth as the trees begin to bud.

Almost none of the guests wear winter gear. It’s too hot under all those layers. Standing in the sun, I sweat in my thinnest ski pants and a red rayon pullover. My goggles, hat, and mittens are in my Jeep. I won’t need them at all again until December. Thinking of my thermals makes me feel like I’m in the Sahara. However, it is a beautiful day and I expect it’s going to be a spectacular night.

Once the guests leave, the resort holds a bash for all the employees. My only patient needed nothing more than a bandage for a small cut. Ski school is over so Dash has been off all day. I thought I’d see him on the slopes, but didn’t run into him until the party started.

“How will you stand it when he leaves?” Gwen eyes my man candy appreciatively.

Since we always kept things professional on the clock, no one batted an eye at how much time Dash and I spent together on our own time over the past few months. Many employees had their suspicions confirmed in light of Hunter’s accident. Most of our coworkers told Dash to “take good care of me”. I was thankful for the positive vibes and well wishes. But Dash has been taking care of me this whole time, rebuilding the sense of worth I thought I’d lost.

I don’t tell Dash I love him. But I do. I love him for showing me with humor I can get through anything and that life is what you make it. I love him for reminding me that friends are the family you choose. That families are made up of people there to support you at different times, and each of them have strengths and weaknesses. I love Dash enough to know he’ll rely on me to let him go and saying those words to him would put a tremendous amount of guilt on his shoulders. He was upfront. I want him to experience everything. It’s unfair for me to hold him back.

I bind the ache in my chest before speaking to Gwen and force a smile. “We have a week… And there’s e-mail.” I gulp from a draft beer when she gives me a dubious look. I mustn’t be convincing.

Dash comes up behind me, rubbing his knuckles down my forearm and leaving gooseflesh in its path. My heart stops, realizing this is the last time I’ll see him in the lodge. I take a deep breath to center myself. We make small talk with Gwen until Chip announces the buffet is ready to serve.

With a tentative restraint, Dash laces his fingers into mine, holding me back from the food as the line forms. He pulls me outside and around the corner of the building, away from the windows and prying eyes.

I rub my arms before wrapping them around Dash’s neck, brushing my peaked nipples against his. Dash kisses me deeply, long and lingering. He bends his knees ever so slightly so his forehead rests on the top of my head.

“I’ve got a glitch, Kat. The resort in New Zealand is asking me to come a week early. They have a new employee orientation meeting I have to attend. I’ve been on the phone all day trying to straighten it out. The only available flight arriving in time to get me there for the training takes off early tomorrow.”

My jaw opens and closes. I’m flabbergasted. “Why didn’t you say anything?” This explains why Dash wasn’t enjoying the slopes this afternoon.

“Last time I talked to the travel agent there were still two options. I thought the second would give us a bit more time. Split the difference. I didn’t keep this from you.” He cups my cheek. “It changed. Just like that.”

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