Page 88 of Stuck on the Slopes

“We did,” Mia said. “Okay, I got the last one on my side.”

“Same,” Rachel said. She wiped her hands on the apron she’d borrowed. “All set.”

“I’ll take it from here,” Edgar said, running to the sinks to clean the piping bags at a breakneck pace.

“You had piping bags with you?” I asked.

Mia nodded. “A friend had me go to her house yesterday to decorate her kid’s birthday cake. I was too lazy to get all the shit out of my car.”

“Lucky happenstance, right?” Rachel said. “Thank you, Edgar.”

“Don’t worry, ladies. Nora won’t even notice we changed it.”

“She’s so sweet,” Rachel said as she removed her apron and hung it on the wall rack where Edgar kept them. “I feel awful, but it is what it is.” She gave me a quick peck on the lips and then said, “Shall we?”

I nodded, offering her my arm. She linked hers with mine, smiling all the way as we made our way back to the lobby. “We have to cut the ribbon soon, no?”

“We do. I’m going to give a longer speech than initially planned to kill time so Edgar can get the cake out here. Then it’ll be in the pictures and Nora won’t feel slighted.”

“Good thinking. I can muster up a few extra words, too.”

“Between the two of us, that should be enough cover for him. Mia told me they used to decorate cakes together every year for her birthday, so I bet he could do it with his eyes closed.”

Once we turned the corner, Rachel smiled and waved to the crowd of press who waited on the other side of the ribbon. The front doors were wide open, letting in the cold from outside. I fought the urge to wince at the chill as I followed Rachel’s lead, putting on my best smile and waving with my free hand. We must have looked like quite the pair, arm-in-arm.

Rachel gave her scripted spiel, not deviating too much from it as she thanked everyone for coming and shared our excitement. As I did the same, Edgar lurked behind us, setting the cake down on a table off to the side so that it would be visible in the photos, but not distracting as we cut the ribbon. Once we finished speaking, Beatrice and Avery carried the scissors over, then extended them to us. Rachel took one handle as I grabbed the other. There wasn’t much weight to the scissors, which shone gold in the light of the antler chandelier overhead. The scissors were half as tall as I was, which felt admittedly excessive, but Rachel had assured me this was the norm.

And then, just like that, the ribbon was cut and fell to the ground by our feet. After everything we’d done, it felt so small to simply cut a ribbon and call it a day. I knew it was supposed to be a photo opportunity for the news, not even proper symbolism beyond something to attach to a headline. We still had a long way to go, what with ramping up our staff and actually operating an open resort. But as I held the cartoonishly large golden scissors, it felt like the end of an era and the beginning of a new one.

As we moved through the motions with the press, the morning moved in a blur. It almost felt as if I was watching my own body, hearing my own voice, but unaware of what I was doing or saying. Maybe it was after all the shit that happened four years ago, but it was hard to believe that something positive was happening to me with no drawbacks—nothing that wasn’t life-shattering, anyway.

When the afternoon rolled around, Rachel’s family members all held their arms open wide as they ran through the front doors, not giving her a chance to fight them on the group hug that ensued. Her mom and dad—Abba and Ima, she called them—led the charge, her mother’s large, faux-fur coat brushing against her skin as her dad’s beard did the same to my face. As the hug dispersed, cheek kisses followed. I stood to the side, watching the scene unfold and patiently wondering when I could properly be introduced to them in person. To prevent my leg from locking up, I swayed from side to side. Rachel would understand.

In the group hug that followed once all of her sisters—the sorority ones tagged along at Sarah’s urging—had their individual embraces, Rachel reached an arm out for me, extending her fingers as if to say, “Take my hand. You’re one of us now.” Not letting the crowd bother me, I did, unable to resist. The moment I felt her hand wrap around my own, she pulled me in with a gentle tug.

“Abba, Ima, this is—”

But one of her sorority sisters—Ariana, I think it was, with her black ponytail—cut her off, her Southern accent thick as molasses. “Oh, you must be the hot boss Sarah told me about!”

Her father added, “You must be so excited about your grand opening!”

My cheeks warmed and flushed. “Hot boss?”

It was Rachel’s turn to blush now. “Wow, apparently that conversation got around fast.”

“Oh, you two weren’t kidding,” her mother said to Rachel and Sarah. “Juniper, right? Oh, I know I’ve told you this before, but you’re so handsome!” She squeezed my cheeks with one hand before kissing each one; were it anyone else, I’d have pulled away already. “Nice to meet you in person, honey.”

“You too, Miriam.”

Once Miriam let me go, her father clapped me on the back. “Mazel tov, Juniper.”

I nodded as I realized I didn’t remember his name. Ash? Asher? I didn’t bother to ask out of fear of sounding like an asshole; someone would bring it up in conversation eventually, and if worst came to worst, I could ask Rachel later. “Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without Rachel, really. She deserves most of the credit.”

He said, “This place is stunning. The two of you must make a great team.”

“Thanks, Abba. I think we do, too.” Rachel playfully nudged me with her shoulder, to which I kissed her hair in response, feeling grounded by the familiar raspberry scent.

“Hope you’re ready for these ladies to take over the resort, Juniper,” he playfully warned. “My girls can be a rowdy bunch, but they have nothing but love in their hearts.”

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