Page 19 of Ghost of Ex-mas Past
I cast one more glance at Bea—she’sstilllaughing? Are they actually going to get any skiing in or are they just going to flirt?
The chair knocks into the back of my knees and I pinwheel my arms to keep my balance, sending one of my poles flying, and I get a solid seat on the bench bare milliseconds before my skis come off the ground.
“Shit, sorry!” I shout down to the rapidly shrinking lift attendant. “I’ll come back for it!”
Who knows if they heard me, but I’ll take the easiest run down and should be fine with just one pole.
“You okay?” Jody grins at me. I’ve always liked Bea’s mom, though I don’t spend a lot of time alone with her.
“Yup, fine, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t. Seems like you are distracted this year, though.”
I hum and glance back toward the bunny slope, but I can’t make out Bea and her ski instructor.
“Charlie?”
“Right, sorry. Yeah, kind of distracted, I guess.”
“Does my daughter have anything to do with your move to New York?”
Jody studies me as I struggle to come up with an answer. The Cummingses have always treated me like the son they never had, and I hate that I signed an NDA and can’t tell the whole truth. “Not directly,” I finally say, “but it’ll be a nice side benefit, I hope.”
“Well, you sure are pulling out all the stops this year. Seems like your company is doing really well.” Jody kicks her ski, nonchalant about the financial meddling that I’ve already fought with my dad about on this trip.
“What do you mean?”
Jody smiles. “Well, I figured our trip was being subsidized somehow, because there’s no way that what Erik and I paid covers a majority of that house.”
“Maybe we got a good deal.”
“Ah, yes, that’s what it was. You’re a prime negotiator.”
We come to the top of the mountain and then we’re too busy skiing to talk about anything other than the trails. It’s a smaller resort than I’ve been used to out west, so by the time my watch alarm goes off to signal the end of Bea’s lesson, I’ve done all the runs and know exactly where to take her next.
I come off the front black diamond and slide toward the bunny slope. I scan the people coming down its gentle hill and spot Bea before she spots me. She’s smiling and confident, skiing alongside her instructor.
Spotting me, she waves and points her skis in my direction. She slides to a halt a little short and uses her poles to push herself forward before lifting her goggles onto her helmet.
“Hi,” she says, breathless and smiling. Her cheeks are rosy pink from the cold and exertion.
“Hey, how was your lesson?”
“Great! Great, right?” She turns to the ski instructor.
“Yeah, she did a great job. I’m Gavin.” He offers his hand and I shake it.
“Charlie.”
“Okay, well, Bea, any questions for me?”
“No, I’m ready.”
“Great, glad to hear it. If you want to book another session, I’m happy to work with you on the bigger slopes. But I’m sure your partner can take over from here.”
“He’s not my partner,” she blurts.
“Not anymore,” I say. “We were together. Before.”
