Page 30 of Please Send Snow
8
MADDIE
I’m feeling overly emotional as I wait for the lady to bring back a coat for me to try on.
It could be because this whole place reminds me of Delilah, right down to the false enthusiasm of the saleslady.
But it’s probably the mention of my dad back at the thrift shop. It means everything to me that Mrs. Miller remembers me. And all I want to do is go visit the factory, where I know the ladies will be kind to me and share memories of my dad.
But it’s not my factory anymore, it’s Delilah’s. And she’s just as likely to shut it down as she is to keep it. I couldn’t bear to go in there and accept their sympathy only to see them all out on the street in a week or a month.
“Here we are, Miss Foster,” the saleslady sings out as she trots toward me with a wide smile and two coats. “This one is a favorite of mine. It’s warm but it has a slim silhouette.”
She hands me a bright pink thing with a black zipper that seems too lightweight to really be a coat, and gazes at me like she thinks I’ll be thrilled.
When I pull it on I can tell right away that it’s made of that magical stuff that holds in body warmth. It’s warmer than it looks and I look sort of amazing in the mirror, slim and curvy, like all the wealthy local ski bunnies.
But it’s not really me.
“Oh, that’s fabulous,” she says. “I brought another just in case, since this line runs small, but that fits you perfectly. You look like a movie star.”
I glance at the moss-green puffer coat she’s still holding. The color is much more me, and it has a hood, which would be really nice since it’s so windy up on the mountain.
“Try the one with the hood,” Jake barks out suddenly.
I almost jump out of my shoes. He’s been so quiet that I almost forgot he was here. I’m annoyed at him for being so gruff, but even more annoyed at myself because I’ve noticed how handsome he is like eighty times already today. He was so lost in his phone at the thrift shop. It’s interesting that he’s paying attention now.
This place is super expensive.Of course he’s paying attention. Plus the salesgirl is flirting with him pretty shamelessly.
I don’t know why that bothers me, but it does. Every time she smiles at him I get this awful feeling, like she’s running her long, blood-red fingernails down a chalkboard.
I peel off the pink coat and hand it to her, taking the nice fluffy green one instead.
It’s every bit as warm and cozy as it looks—heavenly.
But this is on Jake’s dime, so it’s his decision. And since he’s a guy, I’m guessing he’ll pick the one that makes me look more like a movie star than a lumberjack.
Our eyes meet in the mirror again, and just like last time it happened, I feel like little bubbles are filling my chest.
“Yes,” he says, nodding once. “That’s good for the mountains. And it brings out your eyes.”
His jaw tightens like he’s furious, and I’m left reeling, trying to figure out if he really just gave me a compliment.
“That lookswarm, Maddie,” Dylan says approvingly. “And when it snows, you can go on the ground with me and make shapes.”
“Thank you, Dylan,” I tell him, grateful to be distracted from his father. “This was such a nice thing for you and your dad to do for me. And I can’t wait to make some snow angels with you.”
He beams at that and his little chest puffs up so much it looks like he might float right out of the store.
“She needs boots,” Jake says flatly.
“Jake, it’s too much,” I tell him. “There isn’t even any snow.”
“There will be,” he says without making eye contact.
“I asked for it,” Dylan says, as if by way of explanation. “In my letter.”
This kid is just the absolute best. I wrap an arm around his shoulders and give him a quick squeeze. I really do hope he gets his snow.
