Page 57 of Please Send Snow
My childhood memories are another place I don’t really like to go.
“We didn’t have many traditions,” I hear myself tell her honestly. “My mom worked doubles as a waitress to support my dad’s… issues. There wasn’t a lot of time or money to spare.”
I’m pretty sure my dad thought the answer to hisissuescould be found at the bottom of a cheap bottle of whiskey. He certainly spent plenty of time searching there.
“I’m sorry,” she tells me softly. It sounds like she means it.
“It was motivation,” I tell her, something I’ve said a million times in interviews when a reporter had the audacity to dig into my childhood and question me about it. “I knew I didn’t want to wind up in that same unhappy hole.”
The words ring empty now though.
I might not be in a hole, but I’m not exactly happy either.
I guess for a while I was able to fool myself into thinking that success and money had bought me love and security. Until they didn’t anymore.
“It still sucks,” Maddie says decisively.
Now I’m smiling. What is it about this girl? She sees through everything I say. And she seems to like me anyway.
“Yeah,” I agree. “It does.”
We relax in the water in friendly silence for a little while longer, and finally she turns to me.
“This is really nice, but do you think we should go see how Dylan’s doing?” she asks.
“That’s probably a good idea,” I say, gesturing to the steps. “After you.”
She scowls at me and I can’t help smiling.
“I’m kidding,” I tell her, winking at her before I get out myself and go to grab her a towel.
“Just one this time,” I tell her, holding it out. “Using all those towels is bad for the environment.”
She laughs and stands to take it, wrapping it neatly around herself before I can get another glimpse.
I head back to change and when I come out she’s already dressed and waiting for me. We make our way back to the lodge and bump into Margo the moment we reach the lobby. She’s carrying a tray of champagne and strawberries, and wearing a frown as soon as she spots us.
“You didn’t even have your champagne,” she scolds Maddie.
“It’s okay,” Maddie tells her. “We had a nice time. Why don’t you give it to the Applebaums? It’s their anniversary.”
She nods to the elderly couple who are curled up on the loveseat, watching the kids put away supplies from what must have been an art project.
Margo nods once and heads over to the couple.
“That was really nice of you,” I tell Maddie.
“Oh,” she says worriedly, her eyes widening. “I hope you didn’t have your heart set on champagne.”
“Not at all,” I tell her. “I’d much rather watch the two of them enjoy it.”
We both look over at the Applebaums. The husbandis smiling at Margo so broadly that his eyes are even more crinkled than usual. And Mrs. Applebaum’s eyes are glistening.
Even Margo has a more natural smile as she heads back in our direction. So she’s human after all.
I get another twinge about having to tear down the lodge. But I can’t afford to get sentimental.
“It’s time for our carol sing-along,” Margo announces. “Everyone gather by the fireplace.”
