Page 58 of The Mountain
Eddie hums in agreement.
“We’ll just make sure we have the right gear next time we go,” Seth says gently, directing his statement more at Lily than at me. Like he’s trying to reassure her. “Maybe sign up for one of the avalanche training courses at the mountain. I think Stephanie Jealouse is giving one next month, actually…”
Jackie snorts in disbelief. “Next time?” Her voice sounds shriller than usual. “Lily, you aren’t seriously thinking of going backcountry again, are you? After what happened today? You wouldn’t, would you?”
“With these guys?” Lily gives a small smile, eyes flashing with determination as she meets my own. “In a heartbeat.”
Jackie throws up her hands. “Your poor parents. This is what I have to look forward to, isn’t it? My daughter is out there falling in love with this sport, and now I’m going to have to spend the rest of my life wondering if she’s throwing herself off some cliff or something, aren’t I?”
Lily gives a hollow laugh, her gaze dipping to her plate.
“I don’t think you can blame the skiing for that.” Eddie grins. “I taught your kid for an entire day, and I can confirm she’s an absolute terror. She’s going to give you gray hairs before she leaves home, whether she’s skiing or not.”
Seth wraps one arm around Lily, his eyes fixed on her with unspoken worry. She turns to smile at him. “It’s okay,” she whispers. “I’m fine.”
Matty clears his throat. “I… uh… I might head out and run some errands,” he says abruptly, pushing back from the table. “Do you think I could borrow your car, Lily?”
Eddie raises his eyebrows, shooting me a concerned look.
“Oh. Um, of course.” Lily blinks at him in surprise. “You don’t ever have to ask. You know that.”
Matty dips his head, muttering some inaudible reply as he stretches his hand out to Eddie for the keys.
“You better come back and pick us up,” Eddie dutifully points out. “Otherwise, we’ll be stranded here.”
“I can give you all a ride home,” Jackie says, before Matty can answer. “I gave Lily a ride, so I was planning on driving her back anyway. And my rental car is some ridiculous thing that seats seven people, so might as well get the use out of it…” She wrinkles her nose in disgust. “I feel like I’m singlehandedly contributing to global warming each time I start the engine.”
Matty leaves and the conversation turns back to Jackie’s daughter—who, apparently, Eddie taught the other day—and Christmas. Which is tomorrow.
It doesn’t feel like Christmas. Not the Christmases I grew up with, anyway.
Christmas back home was always barbeques and sunshine, usually followed by lazy days of boating and waterskiing. Days that ran together into weeks as the entire country seemed to grind to a halt, all but the most mercenary businesses shutting down completely.
I haven’t had a Christmas like that in years. Not since I was fourteen and started spending my summer holidays training in the northern hemisphere. Now, eight years later, Christmas just means a board strapped to my feet, pine trees coated with snow, and a fake grin plastered on my face as I make small talk with whatever client decided to go snowboarding as their Christmas present.
And that’s fine. I don’t long for summer Christmases anymore, not really. I don’t think they would quite feel like Christmas now, anyway. Not after so many endless winters.
My gaze wanders to Lily, to Antoine, to Eddie and Seth. To Matty’s empty chair. I try to imagine what Christmas with them could be like. Not now, maybe, but in some distant future where we aren’t fighting just to make ends meet.
I imagine the six of us holed up together somewhere, me and Antoine with our black coffee, Lily and Matty sipping some disgustingly sweet hot cocoa. Eddie would be talking a million miles a minute about something ridiculous, and Seth would be making something delicious for us all to eat, or fussing over Lily and Antoine.
I wonder if Lily’s eyes would light up at the sight of presents. If it would be like that time Eddie got her flowers. If she would melt in my arms, like snow under too much sun.
Something warm burrows itself uncomfortably behind my ribcage and I furrow my brow. I think… I think Ilikethe thought of spending Christmas with them.
Chapter 21
Matty
Maybe it’s the residual adrenaline, the aftermath of almost losing everything, but I haven’t felt this angry in years.
I’ve always been slow to anger. Mom said it was because I had a good heart. Dad said it was because I was just slow to begin with.
Maybe they were both right.
Either way, I’m angry now.
I grip the steering wheel and glare at the truck in front of me as the driver puts on his turn signal at the last minute. The turnoff to the shopping complex is just one street away, and I can see the gleaming neon sign already.
