Page 81 of Snowballed

“Yes. But I’m not as good as he is,” I reply.

“You shouldn’t say that,” my mother chides me. “You’re on a college team. That’s a big accomplishment.”

I’m tempted to point out that my mother hasn’t seen me play in years, but that would be rude. So I change the subject. “Do you work as a bookkeeper too?”

He smiles. “No, I run a small business. That’s why I took the managerial accounting class. Your mother has shown me the way around a balance sheet.”

They smile at each other. He looks nothing like my dad, but maybe that’s what she prefers. My mother was depressed and lethargic for months after my father died. I should be happy for her now, but I’m worried about what effect her boyfriend will have on my future. He’s her new reason to sell the farm.

Dinner is delicious. Carl seems like a nice guy, and we have a good time playing board games after dinner. But when I go to bed, there’s a sensation of sadness that I can’t shake.

In the morning, I’m still not in a good mood. For once, I don’t bound out of bed to do my chores. It’s dark and cold, and I miss Noah. I wish he were here so I could talk over this whole Carl thing as well as the household expenses. I miss his presence and the feel of his arms around me.

Maybe he’s posted a new photo on social media. I check out his Instagram, but the last photo he posted was a game photo in early December. Still I scroll through his feed, looking at photos of the beautiful house where he’s sleeping right now. Noah on a California beach in the summer. There’s still a photo of his ex on there. Isn’t there some etiquette about taking down old relationship photos when you’re in a new relationship? But that’s not the kind of thing Noah would care about anyway, so I won’t take it personally that there aren’t any pictures of me.

I look at his pretty ex-girlfriend with her perfect dark hair and fitted sundress. Of course, Noah didn’t bother tagging anyone, but one Lauren Baker commented on the photo:King and Queen of the hot sauce!Must be some in-joke.

It’s a bad idea, but I can’t resist checking out her profile. She’s so pretty and sophisticated. She has several thousand followers and seems to post twice a day. And then I see it: two days ago there’s a photo of her with Noah and two other guys at some dark club. He went out with his ex? No wonder he was so tired when I called him. As I peer closer, I see another photo of her posed in front of a familiar ocean view. On Christmas, she was at Noah’s house.

28

Noah

My return flights to Burlington take a familiar circuitous route, but this time I’m completely relaxed. I know exactly what to expect when I get back: Zoe, great teammates, and a ton of snow. And now I’m at ease about things at home. I hated being on the outs with my family, and now we’re all back to normal. Better than normal actually—I feel more appreciated by my father and brother. I sleep for most of my flights and arrive feeling refreshed.

“Zoe,” I call out and wave as soon as I see her familiar blue parka.

I stride over and give her a big hug. “Hey, it’s so good to see you.”

“Hey, Noah,” she says.

I have so much to tell her. “Man, it was so busy at home. I saw so many people and did all this stuff with my family. You probably noticed this, but I wasn’t too jacked about going home. Things have been pretty awkward with my dad, and I was really—”

She interrupts, “We better get your luggage.”

As we walk over to the carousel, I continue, “Okay, well, you’re really going to love this. My mom sets up this dinner with my dad so we can ‘talk.’ So, we go, and it’s not going great, but then I thought about you and everything you said about your dad—how much you missed him and how you wished you could still talk to him. That inspired me to really make an effort with my dad. And you know what? It worked. We’re actually getting along better than ever before. I think he might come out here for a visit sometime, then you can meet him. Maybe I’ve said some shit about him before, but I think you’ll like him. He’s a good guy.”

My bag comes, and I take out my puffer jacket and put it on. Back to the snow life. We go outside, and the cold smacks me in the face.

“I miss SoCal,” I say as I pull my hood around my face.

“Of course you do,” Zoe replies.

Once we get into her car, I tell her the second part of my good news, “The one thing I didn’t mention was my issues with my brother. Probably because the whole thing doesn’t reflect too well on me, and I didn’t want you to…”

Suddenly, I realize that Zoe’s not really into this conversation. In fact, she doesn’t even look that happy to see me.

“Is something wrong?” I ask.

“No, everything’s fine,” she says.

Alarm bells go off in my brain. When your girlfriend says “fine” in that tone, things are not fine. In fact, if I don’t tread really carefully, I’m going to be in deep shit.

“Um, you don’t seem like your normal self,” I say.

Zoe turns and looks at me. “What’s my normal self?”

“I don’t know. Happy. Cheerful. Maker of goofy jokes.” I smile hopefully but I get nothing in return.

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