Page 16 of Please Send Snow
She grins at him before she turns to go, and she has already slipped out the front door before I fully clock that we didn’t even talk about what time she’s coming tomorrow.
And now she’s hiking down the mountain.
“She doesn’t even have a real coat,” I say to myself.
“She doesn’t?” Dylan asks, stopping suddenly.
His cheeks are still flushed from galloping around sayingdill pickleover and over, but he looks so sad.
“She probably has one,” I correct myself. “She just isn’t wearing it right now. She’ll be okay.”
“She’s coming back tomorrow?” he asks.
He was right here when she said it twice, and he even made a plan with her. It’s heartbreaking that my little boy has had so few constants in his life that he doesn’t believe it when an adult tells him they’re coming back.
A flame of fury at my ex tries to ignite in my chest and I push it back down. My anger won’t help him. And I have to take responsibility for my part in everything that’s happened so far.
“Did you like her?” I ask him.
“She’s funny,” he decides. “She called medill pickle. And I want to write another letter.”
He wants to write? His sweet little face is so full of hope.
You’d better be back, Maddie Foster.
5
MADDIE
Panic has my heart thundering as I jog down the steep mountain road toward the lodge as fast as I dare.
It’s getting super dark out and my thighs are burning from going down such a steep hill. I’m really hoping I don’t slide to my death on the muddy, leaf-covered shoulder of the road.
But my mind is too focused on other things to really care. I can’t believe what I just heard. But something in my gut tells me that it’s true.
And if it’s true, my dreams of coming back to Angel Valley Lodge are over before they even got started.
By the time I make it back down the mountain to the lodge, I’m somehow shivering and sweating at the same time, my legs are jelly, my cheeks are windburned, and I’mreallywishing I had some boots instead of these old sneakers.
But the good news is that according to the time on my phone I’m not too late to make the evening staff meeting.
I burst into the back door that has theStaff Onlysign and find myself blinking in the bright warmth of the kitchen. But for some reason, everything is quiet.
When my eyes adjust, I see that it’s only quiet because everyone is staring at me.
Michael is there and so are Bronson and the kitchen helper, who must be Anna. Margo from the front desk and a crew of others I don’t know are gathered as well.
“Miss Foster,” Michael says stepping forward, his eyes widening. “Is everything all right?”
It is only in this moment that I realize that I have something very important to say and I’ve given absolutely no thought as to how I’m going to say it. But based on the look on Margo’s face, I’d better talk fast before I get thrown out.
“He… he’s going to tear it down,” I pant, placing a hand on the counter.
“Get your sweaty paws off my stainless steel,” Bronson trumpets.
“Who’s going to tear what down?” Michael asks as I snatch my hand back like I just touched a hot stove.
“Jake,” I say. “Mr. Stone, the new owner, he’s going to tear the lodge down to build more chalets.”
