Page 18 of Born in the Spring

He was waiting for me. He never wanted me to leave.

I approach my turn and realize we’re still on the phone, sharing breaths.

His breezes into a low laugh as he says, “You’ll have to hang up first, because I don’t think I can.”

“I’ll see you in a few,” I tell him, finding my smile again, and end the call, pressing on up the mountain.

I park in the lot of the main lodge, where Amie and Vanessa are waiting on the porch. They race toward me as I cut the engine, and I taste the salt on my lips as I push out of the car, lost pieces of me clicking into place as both of their arms wraparound me at the same time. Vanessa lets out a tiny squeal, more excited than anything else, but it’s Amie’s sniffles that bring more tears.

Once the waterworks have started, they learn to flow easier.

Vanessa moves out of the group hug and I wrap myself more around Amie, whispering into her ear, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.” It’s an apology for everything, but I was at least here when, and after, Shepherd passed. But I wasn’t here when Gary left them.

“You were here, honey,” she whispers back, squeezing me before releasing me to hold me steady by the arms. “Now you can letusbe here.”

I snort a laugh, swiping at my face, then glance around. “Where’s. . .?”

A sudden movement catches my eye and I look up, to where Jasper’s looking down at me, on the balcony, the light showing the full of life smile pulling slow on his lips.

Another laugh rumbles quietly through my chest, the thuds of my heart quicker with those lighter beats as he swings his legs over the railing and jumps down.

“Jasper,” Amie gasps out, sounding more confused than concerned, considering he made another perfect landing.

“He’s done that before.” I still attempt to assure her. “And I don’t think he’ll be doing it again,” I add, knowing why he’s doing it again now.

Vanessa laughs and shakes her head. She’s aware of how we met.

Jasper’s still smiling as he walks up, with a hint of a smirk there that pulls at mine in knowing, then softens with a sadness tinging the corners as he stops in front of me. There’s no brokenness in his eyes now, only our shared melancholy. “Hey,” he says through an exhale.

“Hi,” I say back, and he breathes a laugh as we wrap each other in a hug more us than our last. He’s not rigid, our sink into each other is less heavy, his hold on me is more sure.

I never told him—it wouldn’t have been appropriate to say—but he’s always given the best hugs.

“Why’d you listen to me?” he asks low at my ear, shaking his head against mine.

I take in this touch of normal, the way he’s lingering, how he’s able to look at me and still smile. “You needed me to,” I murmur in answer.And maybe I did too.

I release him at the thought, and his arms slip back to his sides, but he stays close, his mouth working over more that he doesn’t get to say.

“Well, let’s get inside before it gets any darker.” Amie tugs me against her side and toward the lodge, the warm glow around us lighting the way.

Jasper’s and Vanessa’s feet sound on the pavement, one pair following behind while the other pair stays at my car, opening my back door for my suitcase.

I don’t have to glance back to know that one’s Jasper, but I do, in time to spy his paused look down at his grip on the handle, that smile on his face, and my heart warms with how much I missed him.

****

The main lodge was always my favorite place to settle in, especially at night, during the ski season, after closing. I mean, it’s a comfort for plenty of people; that’s mainly what it’s for. One of the designated gathering spots. People stop in to warmup by the fire, to relax and chat, to have a drink and the snack of the day, to take something of the mountain back home from the gift shop. Something I love to do is listen to Zacharias, Jasper’s uncle and Amie’s brother, play tunes on the piano.

I smile over at the empty bench seat, knowing I’ll be seeing Zacharias filling it again soon.

Shifting back on the chair at the bar, I take a sip from my mug, biting at one of the few remaining marshmallows. I haven’t had Amie’s famous cocoa in closer to a year now. She whips it up every ski season and it’s a hit for kids and adults alike.

Vanessa shouted out for a beer—not a fan of hot chocolate no matter how famous it is—and Jasper grabbed her one from the stash in the back before rejuvenating the fireplace and rushing off for last minute kitchen cleanup.

He did the same thing he had done outside—paused and smiled, then he turned almost somber, without looking my way.

The tinkling of glass draws my eyes toward the kitchen, and I start to shift again, off the chair, to help him, to check on him, when Amie makes a noise of protest through a sip from her mug and slaps her hand onto the bar.

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