Page 114 of Good as Gold
Okay, that’s weird. My dad’s assistant doesn’t usually phone me. “Hello?”
“Leila? This is Livia. I’m sorry to say that your father collapsed in the brew house. I called an ambulance, and they just took him to the hospital in Montpelier.”
“He collapsed?” I repeat stupidly.
Zara freezes on her way to the door and then turns white. “Matteo?” she whispers.
I shake my head violently. “Thank you so much. I’m on my way.”
CHAPTER43
MATTEO
It’s an overcast day on the mountain, but not too cold. A steel-gray sky hangs over Colorado, and the distant mountains in the direction of Denver are obscured by clouds.
I’m carving easy turns behind the Simmonds family of Palo Alto. Mom and Dad are on skis, their two teens on snowboards. It’s the last run of the day, but I’m still watching like a hawk for trouble. That’s my job.
The heli touches down in the distance, and Mr. and Mrs. Simmonds ski towards it. I pick up my pace and follow their kids a little more closely. It’s time to go home.
“Man, that last one was sweet!” says Cody, their youngest. He’s seventeen.
“One more?” asks Minnie, their daughter.
“Sorry,” I say. “That’s not in the plan.” An extra run for four costs six hundred dollars, and Jack—Mr. Simmonds—didn’t book that option.
“Next year,” he says.
We stash our boards, climb into the bird, and Paul lifts off. In my headset, I can hear the family exclaiming at the scenery. But I close my eyes, exhausted by the pace of my job and all the questions weighing on my mind.
* * *
After we land at the office, I go through the motions of our usual sendoff—collecting transponders and handshakes, urging the Simmonds family to return next year.
Before they go, Jack presses some bills into my hand. “For you and Paul,” he says.
“Thank you, sir. It’s always a pleasure riding with you.”
He gives me a backslap. “Same.”
After they drive away, I find the pilot in the hanger and hand him two hundred dollars—half the tip.
Then I head into the office and put one of the other bills in a zippered pocket of my backpack. Every couple of days I deposit this special stash in a savings account I started for Lissa.
She’ll be in college in another year and a half. She’ll need it.
The last bill goes into my baby-gear fund.
“How was the day?” Cara asks.
“No problem,” I say. “They’re regulars.”
“Cool. Want to go for a beer? Oh wait—I’m supposed to remind you to call your sister on Facetime. Do that first.”
I put my headphones on and prop my phone up on my desk. Then I start a video call to Zara.
It rings for a minute, and then I see the ceiling of Zara’s home. And then the rug. And then the ceiling again. And finally Nicole’s round little face. “Uncle Matteo!” she crows. “Whatcha doing?”
“Just came inside. I was snowboarding.”
