Page 48 of Please Send Snow
“Hi,” she says, like she’s hoping it’s the end of the conversation.
“Hey there, buddy,” the mom puts in, leaning forward to smile at Dylan. “Bree, trade spots with your brother.”
“Huh?” Bree says.
“Trade chairs with your brother, Bree,” the dad sighs. “Now.”
By the time Maddie and I are seated the boys are next to each other and Dylan’s attention is completely enraptured by the small plastic dinosaurs the other boy is playing with.
The boy introduces himself as Bobby and hands him a triceratops, immediately endearing himself to Dylan, and they’re off to the races, making the animals talk to each other.
“That worked out well,” Maddie says softly to me, a sweet smile curving her lips.
“Very well,” I agree.
“Welcome,” the cook says as he enters with a flourish. “This morning’s breakfast will be Crêpes Suzette. For now, enjoy some fresh fruit and coffee. Your meal will be out shortly.”
Who makes Crêpes Suzette in an old lodge? I would have expected a buffet with heated trays of scrambled eggs and limp bacon.
The place definitely has an odd vibe, but I kind of like it for trying to transcend itself.
Don’t get attached,I remind myself.It won’t be here much longer.
“Great breakfast,” Maddie says politely.
Or maybe not just politely. The girl is definitely a passionate eater.
“How’s the book coming along?” I ask.
“Really well, actually,” she tells me, her face lighting up. “I was kind of stuck for a while, but these last few days I think I’m getting somewhere with it.”
“Have you always wanted to write?” I ask her.
“Pretty much,” she says. “I mean there was a brief time when I wanted to be in the circus.”
“Oh really?” I ask, not really sure if she’s joking or not.
“Well, we had just seen Cirque du Soleil,” she explains. “And I was eight. I begged my dad to sign me up for gymnastics so I could be the next big circus star. And as soon as he did, it became abundantly clear that wasn’t going to happen.”
I chuckle at the thought of little Maddie and her big dreams, tumbling around the mat.
“But yeah, other than that I’ve always wanted to write,” she says. “Now that I finally have the chance, I was starting to be afraid I was just going to choke.”
“Why?” I ask her, genuinely wanting to know. I started asking about the book to be nice. But she’s always gotsuch an upbeat way of looking at things. I want to know what would make her lose faith in herself.
“It’s been a lifetime of wanting to do this,” she says, shrugging. “And losing my dad was hard. He’s always been my biggest cheerleader. I mean—well, you get it.”
She glances over at Dylan and a wave of warmth flows through me.
He’s my whole heart and she sees me as his biggest supporter, even though I don’t really see it in myself sometimes. I’m so new to all of this.
Then it hits me what she said.
“You lost your dad?” I ask.
“Almost a year ago now,” she says, nodding. “Sometimes I still can’t believe it.”
“I hadn’t heard,” I tell her. “I’m so sorry.”
