Page 2 of Fresh Tracks
“What’s so funny?” I grin back at her curiously, spinning the lid off my emotional support water bottle.
“That.” She tilts her head toward my brother on the beginner ski run. “I never thought I’d seethatagain.” I still can’t believe he finally agreed to help with the class I teach when I’m not back at the office hounding donors.
A warm smile spreads across my face. She’sright. My brother didn't ski for years after injuries derailed his skiing career, but his girlfriend, Lizzy, gave him the courage to try again last winter. Even though he’s not competing anymore, it’s good to see him enjoying something that used to mean so much to him.
“Yeah, but he’s a pretty terrible teacher,” I tease Kayleigh, loud enough for him to hear.
“Very funny!” he calls out before sending the kids to the racks to put their gear away.
He skis over, stopping in front of us.
“These kids are a lot of work. I don’t know how you do this.” He takes his goggles off, propping them on top of his helmet.
“Oh, come on. They aren’t that bad.” I flick some snow up with my boot, hitting him right in his now uncovered face.
He glares down at me, wiping the snow off. “Yeah, you’re worse. No wonder they're a handful if they’re always with you.”
I shrug my shoulders, smiling innocently.
“So pizza at your place tonight, right?” he asks. And I know he’s asking Kayleigh and not me.
I love my studio apartment and my Sprinter van that I split my time between, but neither are exactly great options for hosting dinners. My small apartment gives me the freedom to hop in my camper van at the drop of a hat for a last minute adventure. It’s perfect because I have a serious case of squirrel brain and don’t do well with maintenance.
Oh, I want to go rock climbing in Moab? I can be there in six hours.
My best friend Josie’s going to a music festival in the desert this weekend? Heck yes, I’ll be there.
Kayleigh nods back to Clay. “Yep. That's still the plan.”
“Good. We still need to talk about Tanner and V’s wedding. It's only a week away,” says Clay.
“Perfect.” I stand up, clapping my hands together once. “Thank you both again for helping today, but I need to get these kids back to the office for pick up. I’ll see you tonight!”
After seeingthe last of my class head home, I make my way inside. Calling this place anofficemight be generous. Wasatch Wishes is based out of an old auto body garage in a shopping center just outside of Park City. It was donated before I started here and the early volunteers helped spruce the place up, convert part of the space into storage for all of the ski equipment, an entertainment space to host events, and a small office area. It’s still a little rough around the edges and we could use a proper space, but that costs money. This place is practically my second home since I’ve come here almost every day since high school.
Originally, I was just a volunteer working with the youth ski classes. After graduating college, I started working with activity programming. Being a small non-profit though, I’ve worn a lot of hats over the years, including finding and recruiting donors when I’m not helping with the kids’ activities.
I make my way into the shared open office area and find my desk along the back wall. I open my laptop to check my email, looking down at my nails. The glittery, rainbow flecked gel is wearing off.
Scrolling through my inbox, nothing jumps out as too pressing. I just might make it out of here in time for happy hour at Roxy’s before dinner with Clay, Lizzy, and Kayleigh.
I look up when I hear the front door shut and spot my boss walking in. Kathy is great, but she always finds a way to corner me at the end of the day with something that needs to be done right away.
I smile and I give her a two finger salute. She looks back at me with a forcedsmile.
“How was today’s class?” she asks, walking toward my desk, still wearing that forced smile. That’s the face she makes when she needs me to stay late, or cancel my plans to meet with a possible donor. Maybe I won’t be making it to happy hour after all.
“The kids loved Kayleigh. I mean, how could they not?” I snort a quick laugh. “I think they even liked my brother.”
“That’s great. I can’t thank you enough for organizing that. We need all the volunteers we can get.”
I don’t know why, but I’m not thrilled about the way she emphasized ‘volunteers’. I wonder if funding is short again. It’s the constant struggle of a non-profit, but the small donors I’ve been working with have been reliable. And for as long as I can remember, the bigger private and corporate donors have always come through with their end of year donations.
“So, what’s up? Need help with something before we close up for the night?”
Her smile falters and she nods before grabbing the chair from the desk next to mine and sitting down in front of me.
“There’s no easy way to say this.”
