Page 82 of Melting the Ice

“What? Oh, no. Where are you staying? Why are you still in Denver?” she asked.

Ugh. How hard would it have been to not tell her that?Idiot.

“I like Denver. It’s a great city, and I have jobs here that I like.”

“You can tend bar anywhere. And walk dogs, since I bet you’re still doing that? I mean, how do you even walk dogs in all that snow, anyway?”

“Mom. I really have to get going.” I stood up and headed down the hall to get changed.

“Who are you staying with? Did you get an apartment with all your lucrative jobs?”

Oof, she was extra bitchy today. Great. I stepped inside the door of Micah’s—our—bedroom. I wanted to bury my head in his pillow.

“With a friend.” I forced down my smirk.

“What friend? How well do you know them? What if they’re a criminal?”

I rolled my eyes. “Mom. It’s a friend from work, and she’s very nice and not a criminal. And I really need to get ready for my job.”

“Make sure you introduce her to Ray when he’s out there. He’ll fill us in on what he thinks. Seriously, Josie, you need to think about these things and be safe. The world is scary.”

“I know, Mom. But everything is good. I’ve made a bunch of friends out here, and I’m safe.”

“I just worry about you, you know.” I heard her sigh.

“I know that. But it’s fine, and I really have to go. We’ll talk soon, okay?” I felt slightly bad that she was worried but also annoyed that she was so judgy about my life. It was a weird place to be. I wanted to be angry at her, but I also understood some of her concerns. I mean, she was definitely over the top, but—

Ugh. I really needed to get off the phone. My mood was all wonky right now.

“Yes, we will. Be safe, Josie. And I’m glad Ray will be out to visit soon. But think about coming home. I mean, there’s nothing really in Denver that you couldn’t get here,” she said. “Love you, honey.”

“You too. Bye.” I hung up the phone and glanced around the bedroom again.

There was absolutely something here that I couldn’t get at home.

Micah.

“Stupid snowy weather,” I muttered, and then I marched into the closet to change for work at one of the many jobs I loved.

***

“IPA for you, pale ale for you, and IPA for you,” I said, dropping off a drink order later that night to three of the regulars at the bar.

“Thanks, Josie,” Harold said, tipping his IPA bottle toward me after he took his first sip. “Man, Santa’s game-winning goal was sweet last night.” He nodded toward the TV mounted behind me.

I turned to watch the highlight reel again. Simone always kept one of the TVs on sports, even if there wasn’t a game on. Tonight, the local NBA team was playing, but it was intermission, so hockey highlights were on. Leaning my back against the bar, I tried to spot Micah’s number. They were so fast, but it was like my eyes automatically looked for number twenty-five. He’d passed the puck to Tally, who had then sent it to Santa for that sweet shot Harold was referring to. I’d screamed my head off last night when they’d won.

The trip had started rough with a loss in Winnipeg, but I knew Micah was happy to come home with at least four of the six possible points. They only had eleven games left in the regular season and were in the first wild card spot right now.

“Hey, Josie, can you drop this at table four?” Simone asked, pulling my attention away from the screen. Micah wasn’t on camera anymore, and they were going back to basketball, which I didn’t care to watch.

“Sure,” I said, grabbing a plate of nachos and a burger.

I spent the next hour filling drinks and chatting with the patrons and my coworkers about the Stampede’s season, the latest pile-up of snow, and which hiking shoes were the best for winter day hikes. My mother’s complaints lingered in the back of my mind like they typically did after a conversation with her, but I shoved them aside. I was lucky to have this life. To be able to try new things and find success in what I enjoyed.

She just didn’t get it, and normally, I was okay with that.

I wiped down the bar space in front of me, then moved to the corner and grabbed the glasses that had just finished up in the dishwasher, drying them off and stacking them under the bar.

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