Page 72 of Stuck on the Slopes

I ran a hand over my face, already dreading their arrival. “Fuck. Come on, Squatch. We gotta warn Rachel.”

Chapter 20

Rachel

AsIwaitedforJuniper in the lobby, I slipped behind the desk to test the check-in system again. With our new employees starting in a few days, I wanted to ensure everything was in working order so we’d have minimal hiccups on opening day. While clicking away, satisfied to see it working without flaw, I heard the front doors open.

I smiled as I looked up, ready to see who was there. Since we weren’t open and the woman was dressed posh in a tweed dress and fancy-looking cardigan, I assumed she was a reporter. The man with her didn’t have a camera but also dressed nicely; less formal than she was, but still sharp in his well-fitted slacks and button-up shirt.

“Hi! How can I help you?”

“Hello!” The woman’s heels clicked against the hardwood as she approached the front desk. Her short, blonde bob stayed perfectly still as she walked. Despite her sing-song tone, her facial expression remained stiff as she said, “I’m sure Junebug has told you about us.”

I shook my head and tried not to scowl at whatever weird nickname she gave Juniper. “No, I’m afraid he hasn’t.”

Before she could speak, Juniper rounded the corner. Sasquatch walked by his side. “I didn’t realize you’d be here so soon.”

I looked from the man and woman on the other side of the desk to Juniper, and then back at the couple. It wasn’t until I looked at the man that the pieces clicked together in my mind. While Juniper’s hair—tied half-back as he usually styled it—was longer, it was the same raven shade as the man’s. They also shared their bright blue eyes, straight nose, and full lips. Without a doubt, this man was Juniper’s father. That meant the blonde must have been his mom.

There are theories that men like women who remind them of their mothers. It’s not always in a mommy issues kind of way, but researchers have said it’s simply because we’re drawn to what is familiar. But looking at Juniper’s mother only rejected those theories, especially when comparing her to me. Juniper would make Sigmund Freud cry as he tore apart his Oedipus Complex assertions. His mother and I could not have been any more different if we tried.

I stepped out from around the front desk, apologizing all the way. My green skirt swished around me, flowing until it hit my ankles, and Juniper’s eyes landed straight on it. “You must be Mr. and Mrs. Hart. Silly me.”

Before his mother or father could say anything, Juniper moved his gaze to my face and said with a subtle urgency, “Can I talk to you for a second? Just the two of us?”

As soon as I nodded, he grabbed me by the bicep to lead me down the nearest hall. Sasquatch followed. Shadows cast over our faces, making it hard for me to make out his expression, though I was positive there was no mistaking how I was feeling.

“When were you going to tell me your mother was coming to town?” I asked in a hushed whisper.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” Juniper said. His eyes fell to my shoes as his hand on my arm lifted, hovered in the air for a few seconds, and then fell to my sweater-covered shoulder like he was trying to ground himself. “She ambushed me this morning. I didn’t even have a chance. We slept in, and she texted me when we were napping.”

“Alright, well, let’s make the most of it.”

“Listen, before we head back out there, let me warn you. My dad is really chill, and I thank God every day I take after him almost exclusively. But my mother? She is a whole other story. Let’s just say there’s a reason I only talk to her when absolutely necessary.”

“Okay, noted. But I’m sure I can handle her.”

“Rach,Ican barely handle her. Just… if she says anything insensitive or bitchy, let it roll right off and let me handle it. It’s the least I can do for you.”

“Don’t fight for my sake, either. Whatever she has to say, I’m sure I’ve heard worse. The average time share customer is an old, entitled boomer, so I’ll manage.” With a lopsided smile, I leaned up on my tiptoes to kiss Juniper’s lips. His body noticeably relaxed as I did. “We’ll get some food whipped up in the kitchen and if none of that appeals to them, I’m sure there’s a Chinese place in town that’s open.”

“Cooking will take too long, and my mom will want to get involved. The least amount of friction points, the better.”

“Take out Chinese it is.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure. Come on, let’s head back out before my mom pushes her way past Sasquatch.”

As we made our way back, Juniper took hold of my hand. His palm was cold and clammy as our fingers interlaced, so I gently scratched his upper back when we returned to the lobby, where his parents stared at the elk painting he’d helped me hang up. It felt like a lifetime had passed since then.

“You’ve done a good job with the place,” his father said. “You must be getting ready to open soon.”

“We should be ready by January nineteenth, yeah,” Juniper said.

Juniper’s mom placed her hands on her knees as she bent them, looking at Sasquatch. “And who is this cutie?”

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