Page 11 of Snowballed

There’s a brief flash of something across Zoe’s face, and I wonder if I’ve gone too far. But then that huge smile returns in full wattage. “I’m sorry. I’m talking too much. Does that ever happen to you? I mean, you hear yourself talking too much, yet you can’t stop. It’s kind of a nervous thing, I guess.”

She keeps going but I tune out. I can see my suitcase snaking its way towards us, and I lean towards Zoe so I can snag it. As I brush against her arm, she jumps back in shock. I’m seriously wondering if she’s on something, but she looks too innocent to even know what drugs are. She’s the Hollywood stereotype of someone raised on a farm: healthy, fresh-faced, and strong. She would actually be cute if she would chill.

I pull my suitcase off. “Just need my hockey bag now.”

“Oh, that will arrive at the special handling kiosk. Let’s go over there.” We walk all of twenty feet and find my hockey and stick bags neatly stacked beside a golf bag and some cardboard boxes.

“Let me take something for you,” Zoe offers, but I wave her off. Even if she looks strong enough to tuck a cow under each arm, I’m not letting her carry my luggage. We make our way to the parking lot, with Zoe pointing out all the highlights of the world’s smallest terminal. The Skinny Pancake turns out to be a café, and I sniff the caffeine longingly, but I’m doomed to drink coffee wherever Zoe deems Burlington’s best coffee to be.

Zoe is driving an ancient Ford Explorer, and we stow my gear in the back. We drive along with Zoe narrating everything, as if I can’t read the wordsDoubletree Innby myself. Burlington looks pretty though, with trees neatly planted along a grassy median. In no time, we’re on campus.

She stops in front of an arena that looks like the outside of every other arena.

“Would you like to go in? Maybe get your bearings before your first practice on Monday. I could give you a full tour of the facilities.”

I’m torn. While I like being prepared, I prefer to go in the arena with a purpose. And I’m pretty sure that a tour with Cracky the Chipmunk will include her telling me the amount of water needed to flood the rink and the win/loss record of every Moo U team since 1989.

“It’s okay.” I add a hopeful, “Maybe that coffee now?”

She puts the car back into drive. “Right. Sorry, I haven’t forgotten about your coffee, but I’ve been considering all the best places. I think we’ll go to downtown Burlington. I’d really like to show you the Church Street Marketplace. It’s at its best in the summertime when all the outdoor activities are on. But don’t worry, the fall is great too.”

Since I spend most of my school days at the rink, the gym, and the library, I can’t imagine I’ll be lounging around town. Besides, I have zero money, which means I’m not going anywhere.

She’s pointing out more campus features, but I let her words buzz over me like the noise of a fly.

“This is a wild guess, but do you work in tourism?” I ask.

“Holy doodle. I can’t believe you knew that. My first job was at the Shelburne Museum—you know Shelburne, that’s the town where we live—but this summer I worked for Hello Burlington. And I’m in the tourism program at Moo U. I can’t believe you guessed without my telling you.”

“Every word out of your mouth sounds like a guidebook,” I point out. Every single word delivered at a hundred miles an hour.

“Well, there you go. Some people have to pay to get tours, but you’re getting one for free.”

If I had money, I would be tempted to offer her some not to talk anymore. Instead I close my eyes and rub my forehead. Unfortunately, we’ve reached downtown Burlington already, so the restaurant tour begins.

“I’m sure you’re familiar with Ben & Jerry’s, but did you know they began right here in Burlington? You can even tour their facilities. Oh, look over there. That’s a nice casual place for lunch: really good sandwiches, and they stock local beers and ciders.”

I know she’s not deliberately taunting me, but as someone who is used to eating out a lot, I wonder how this year will work. As Bachan pointed out, I can’t cook. And while my meals are included at the farm, what about lunch?

“And that ramen place is supposed to be really good.” She looks at me sideways. “You know, if you miss Japanese food.”

“I was born in L.A. Both my parents are American. But thanks for othering me.”

Even Little Miss Sunshine doesn’t miss my tone. “Othering you? Oh, I’m so, so sorry. I mean, obviously I know you’re American, but your background is Japanese too, so I thought you might be worried that you couldn’t find Japanese food here.”

One of the problems with having famous parents is that strangers know things about you before it comes out in the normal course of conversation. Of course, the Meyers family had to research me before letting a potential serial killer into their home. But it still bugs me. If I’m being fair, I do like to eat Japanese food and I was worried there wouldn’t be any here. Right now, I’m not being fair though. All I want is coffee and silence.

But the silence only lasts for about a minute. Then Zoe points out some restaurant she’s really excited about. “That’s The Squash Flower. It’s won James Beard dining awards. The best Vermont restaurants are known for their farm-to-table philosophy and dedication to local suppliers. This restaurant is a good example of the world-class dining experiences that—”

“Wait.” I interrupt her. “World class? Have you eaten all over the world?”

Zoe flushes. “Well, no. I haven’t even eaten here. But I know all about the restaurants from my work. It’s my job to recommend the best places.”

“Because to me, world-class dining means people come here just to eat. I must have missed the private jet runway back at the airport.”

“People come from New York City to eat here. And we do get tourists from everywhere. There’s no need to make fun of me.” Apparently Cracky does have a dark side because she’s finally standing up to me.

“Look, I came here to go to school and play hockey. I don’t need much else. What’s the population here, forty thou? It’s not going to be L.A. or even Phoenix. All I expect from Burlington is a college town with a few places to drink and party.”

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