Page 89 of Holiday on the Rocks
Allie held her arm up. “And Kristina?”
That’s when Kristina’s cackle shot through the air. I followed it and ended up in front of the hot chocolate stand and there she was. Behind the counter. I cautiously approached.
“Kristina?”
She looked up. “What can I get you, dear?”
I leaned down. “Uh, you don’t work here.”
“Well, I have an apron.” She pointed. “So I’m pretty sure I do.”
We finally had everyone together but Clint and Royce. While my idea was to just leave them, and like dogs, I was certain they’d find their way home, Evan and Allie did not agree. After a bit more discussion, our crew seemed to be coming down from whatever kind of high they were on.
There was a yell, and I looked up just in time to see Clint fall from a ski lift and into a pile of snow as a little bit of glee registered in my brain. Bad Levi. The good news was the fall was only about ten feet. The bad news was he was still alive. I just could not catch a break.
Evan tore over and helped Clint up. His hair was sticking out in all directions as he was pulled to his feet.
“Did you see that?” He let out a laugh. “I fell off the damn ski lift!”
Allie reached him, and I hated the concern in her eyes. “Are you okay?”
“I fell off the ski lift! Did you see me?” He put his arms around Allie and lifted her so she was level with his face, and I suddenly wished I had a level to beat him with. “Look at you.”
My hand balled into a fist as he gave her a quick kiss, and I could hear Lexi clapping in the background. Evan put his hand on my shoulder. “Uh, we’d better get everybody back to the house.”
Lexi yelled. “Where’s Royce?”
As fuckity fucker Clint still had his hands on Allie, and I knew I needed to disappear. “I’ll look for him.”
I roamed through the enormous ski lodge that seemed to be throwing up Christmas. Every place my eyes landed there were wreaths, candy canes, and twinkling lights. I’m a full-blown Christmas lover, but it was too much.
He wasn’t in the bar, but beer was, so I ordered one to assist with my search. I checked out the men’s bathroom and gift shop but nada. I then roamed through the restaurant and didn’t see him anywhere. As I was leaving, I tripped over feet sticking out from under a table covered in a red tablecloth. I sighed as I couldn’t think of another visitor in the lodge who might be under a fucking table.
Dear Life,
When I said, “Can this day get more fucked up”, it was a rhetorical question, not a challenge.
I peeked down to see a sleeping Royce. Or a dead Royce. Please be dead, please be dead.
I pushed his leg with my foot. “Royce, wake up.” I pushed harder and he rolled onto his side appearing to want to continue his slumber.
Clinking silverware was in the distance as I assessed how to get this guy out of there. I flipped the tablecloth up, leaned down, and shook his shoulder. “Royce, we have to get you out of here.”
His eyes popped opened, and he jumped at the sight of me. “Where am I?”
“Well, you’re sleeping under the table in a fine dining establishment.”
“Huh.” He looked around. “Maybe I just wanna stay here for a while.”
What in the hell was in those baked goods? Clearly our group was standing on my last freaking nerve. “Get up, we’re leaving.”
“Why?”
“Dude, I don’t have the time or crayons to explain this to you. You’re stupid, Royce.”
He rubbed his eyes. “Don’t call me stupid.”
“Okay, let me put it another way. Wisdom has been chasing you but you’re running too fucking fast to catch at the moment.”
