Page 278 of The Parkers' Handsome Holiday
“You’re not s’posed to be working today,” Ethan whined. “It’s your day off.”
“I know,” I repeated. “But just because it’s my day off, doesn’t mean that I don’t have to work. I did the grocery shopping and the cleaning this morning, and now I have to split some wood so that we can stay warm this winter. But you can help me with that, can’t you?”
Ethan stared at me for a minute, and then he grinned. “Yeah!” he said enthusiastically.
My grinned broadened as I drove us home. We lived a little bit outside of Park City proper, which was honestly a little frustrating sometimes since it meant that it took even longer for me to do simple things like take Ethan to school. But Dad and I were the only two houses up our way, with about two miles in between the two places, and you couldn’t beat that peacefulness.
Plus, I hoped that it would teach Ethan to see the beauty in the world around him, and that even in this increasingly interconnected age, he could sometimes unplug and forget about the rest of the world.
But then again, Ethan was nowhere near as introverted as either I or his grandfather were. He would probably move into town as soon as he could. I refused to be bothered by that. And I just hoped that I could teach him enough about outdoor survival that he always knew he could come back to the wilderness, or the fringes of society at least, if he ever wanted to.
Today, the task was stockpiling wood for the winter. Ethan was pretty gung-ho about helping me out, but of course, I wasn’t going to trust the six-year-old with an axe, even if he had had the strength required to split logs for me. Instead, I showed him how to stack the wood to keep it dry. He made a great helper.
At least, until he dropped one of the logs on his finger. “Ow!” he cried suddenly, and I felt my heart stop as I nearly dropped the axe in my rush to look at what he had done.
I could see his lower lip quiver, but instead of crying, he frowned, holding up his finger so that he could look more closely at it. “Shit,” he said, much to my surprise.
I stared at him for a moment and then hurried over to see his finger. He had probably gotten it trapped between two of the logs, and the little finger was already swelling a little, turning a bit purple. There would be a nice bruise there for weeks to come, probably. For a moment, I felt bad about letting him help me. If he hadn’t been out there with me, he wouldn’t have hurt his finger. But I knew that if I hadn’t let him help me, Ethan would have spent the afternoon moping. That was just the kind of boy that he was.
He was a tough little kid, too. He still wasn’t crying. But still, I couldn’t endorse that language. “Ethan you know you’re not supposed to say bad words,” I rebuked him.
Ethan frowned deeper, and when he lowered his hand, I could tell that he had already almost forgotten about the pain. “Shit?” he said again. “Gramps says that sometimes.”
I almost laughed at the innocent way that he said it. But I forced myself to keep the stern look on my face. “There are some words that only adults are allowed to say,” I said. “And that’s one of them.”
“That’s not fair,” Ethan complained.
“I know,” I said. Again, I couldn’t help but smile at him.
Ethan lifted his finger towards me. “Kiss it so it doesn’t hurt?” he asked, again seeming young and sweet.
“I’ll do you one better,” I said, scooping up a handful of snow. “This is going to feel really cold, but I bet it’ll make your finger feel better.”
Ethan stared dubiously at me for a moment but eventually allowed me to press the frozen snow to his finger. He winced but continued to stay strong.
We were still like that when Dad came over. “Thought the mountain might have things for you to do this afternoon,” Dad said, shrugging his shoulders. “I know you’ve been busy lately.”
“Not the mountain, but I’ve got a ton of chores to do,” I admitted. “We’re trying to stockpile wood for right now. Maybe you could help Ethan with stacking the wood?”
“Good plan,” Dad said.
We worked in silence for a while, until Dad suddenly swore, shaking his hand. He had done the same thing that Ethan had earlier. I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help grinning. “Hey, watch your mouth. There’s kids around,” I said, looking pointedly towards Ethan.
“Yeah, watch your mouth!” Ethan said. He frowned. “I said that word earlier and Daddy got mad.”
Dad looked surprised for a moment and then laughed. He clapped his hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “You’re right,” he said. “I shouldn’t use bad words. And neither should you, champ.”
We went back to work for a while. Eventually, Dad cleared his throat. “I heard a rumor that you’ve got a new boss,” he said.
I blinked in surprise. Dad skied pretty regularly, although not as much now as he had when he was younger. He said that he didn’t like to ski on his own, and most of his friends from town had either moved away or fallen out of touch with him. Or both. Dad was a difficult man to stay close to, really.
I pushed away the thought that I might be just the same as him. Instead, I nodded. “Yeah, new owner,” I confirmed. “You remember Ian Peters?”
“That prankster you were always running around with?” Dad said. “He bought the place? I didn’t know he even lived around here.”
“He doesn’t, although he is back to visit. His sister is the new owner of the resort.”
“Huh,” Dad said, and I could tell he was mulling that over. “Well, I think that’s good.”
