Page 32 of Good as Gold
He swipes at his eyes, which are leaking. “I dream about her every night. Can’t get her out of my head.”
That’s a topic I know plenty about. “We don’t know what we have before it’s gone, do we?”
Rory shakes his head, miserable.
And I know just how he feels.
CHAPTER12
SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO
MATTEO IS 19, LEILA IS 18
On a March morning at dawn, Matteo finds himself behind the wheel of an ancient, rusting Volvo, driving slowly in the right lane to save gas. It’s ninety-five miles from Aspen to Beaver Creek.
In exchange for a tank of gas, he’s borrowed this shitty car from his new friend, Sean. He can’t really afford to miss a day at work. He also can’t afford the lift ticket he’s going to have to buy when he gets there. He’ll have to skip lunch in the overpriced cafe. He’ll say he’s not hungry.
Even so, he’s been looking forward to this day trip all month. It’s a struggle not to floor it just to get there five minutes earlier.
“Got a hot date?” Sean had asked when he’d handed over the keys.
“Not really,” he’d said, deflecting the question. “It’s just a friend from home.”
It’s notjustany friend, though. It’s Leila. She’s on her annual spring break ski trip with her mother and her brothers. But this time—since it’s Leila’s last spring break before college—she begged for a trip to Colorado.
He can’twaitto see her. He’s actually early, arriving in the resort parking lot at eight a.m. He doesn’t have any minutes left on his cheap cell phone plan, so he can’t even let her know.
He buys his lift ticket and waits at their agreed-upon spot in front of the express lift, stomping his feet against the cold.
Suddenly she’s right there—all bouncing hair and pink-cheeked smiles. “Omigod! Matty! This is so epic! We’re going to ride all day! Just like old times.” She sort of flings herself at him, and he catches her against his chest and takes a deep breath.
Citrussy shampoo. Cinnamon gum. All the good things in life, and so familiar he could cry. He’s so homesick. These past four months have been the hardest of his life.
But he is determined not to let on. He smiles broadly and asks which lift they should ride first.
She grabs his arm and tugs. Just like old times. “My favorite run is called Cataract. You can seeeverythingfrom the top!”
He follows her onto the lift, under a giant blue sky. Leila chatters to him about everything that’s new in Vermont. “Rory is working in the Shipley’s dairy barn three mornings a week. He hates the hours, though. He might learn to be a plumber.”
“Really?” he tries and fails to picture that.
“Maybe.” Leila shrugs. “That’s this week’s idea. He seems kind of restless, actually. But he’s still talking about starting a business with you when you come back.”
Matteo doesn’t know how he feels about that. At the moment, starting a business feels impossible. Most things do.
“How’s the new job?” Leila asks.
“Good,” he says, and it isn’t a lie. “I’ve only been there a month, but they run seven days a week, so they need all the days I can give them.”
“I can’t believe you get to snowboard for aliving. That is wild.”
“Until the snow melts,” he reminds her. “Then I’ll have to find something else to do.” It’s heavy on his mind.
“What’s it like, though? How’s the terrain?”
“Fantastic,” he says. “I did ten thousand feet of vertical yesterday.”
Leila makes a noise of disbelief, and her brown eyes sparkle. “Hot damn. I want your life.”
