How I Came to Sparkle Again (25 page)

At the end of their third run together, Cassie beat Jill to the base lodge.

“Kid, you’re so dang fast!” Jill shouted, released her bindings, and walked over for a high five.

Cassie popped out of her bindings and met Jill halfway.

Mike pulled up, stepped out of his skis, and picked up his daughter like a sack of potatoes. “Who wants cocoa?” he asked.

Cassie screamed, “Ah! Jill! Help me!”

Jill was laughing, Cassie was laughing, he was laughing, and for the first time he could remember, the moment lacked for nothing. It felt complete.

He remembered that.

And he remembered standing in line at the cafeteria with three cups of cocoa and looking over at them, taking off Gore-Tex shells and fleece coats, wet hat hair dripping, smiles on their faces, Jill patting Cassie on the back, their delicate faces and smooth skin, their beauty and perfection. He remembered sitting next to Cassie and putting his arm around his daughter. He remembered watching Jill’s lips as they met the cup of cocoa, watching the lines under her eyes deepen when she laughed. He remembered that when she talked, he had the luxury of just looking deep into her eyes.

They skied a little more, Cassie showing off her best moves in the air for Jill. Each time, Mike gasped and went rigid until she landed safely.

Then, after the chairlifts had closed, they all walked down from the base through the parking lot to town together, smiling until their faces hurt, joking and teasing. And what Mike remembered most was feeling like a family, like a happy family.

Kate used to give Cassie tips and pointers the whole walk through the parking lot, and Cassie would listen and ask questions. They understood each other. They really did. And Cassie saw it for the act of love it was. But with Jill, Cassie got to just be a kid. And Mike thought that with everything she had been through, she could use more of being a kid.

Most of all, what Mike remembered was feeling happy, truly happy, for the first time in a long while. For the past few months, at best, he could imagine his life being okay. He had not been able to imagine it ever being happy again. But when Jill smiled at him, he started thinking that maybe, eventually, a chance at happiness with her would be worth having to find a new babysitter if it didn’t work out.

*   *   *

Hans and Eric were both grooming on the mountain and Jill was at her other job, so no one saw when Tom came over to Lisa’s and never left. No one knew the difference. That was the way Lisa wanted it.

Tom was propped up on one elbow next to where she lay on her back. With his other hand, he played with the damp clumps of hair around her face and looked at her adoringly.

She smiled and hid her fear. This thing, this situation, this relationship (oh, she hated that word), could go in so many directions.

“I don’t see why we need to keep this a secret. If we keep it a secret, I get to sneak over once every three days when Jill is at work. If we out ourselves, I can be here as much as you’ll tolerate me,” he said.

“Do you have a secret place?” she asked.

“Oh, baby, I think you know my secret place,” he joked.

“No, I’m not talking about that. I mean a place that you go when you need to think or pray or recalibrate … a place that’s sacred to you.”

“Yeah,” he said.

“And you know how you wouldn’t want a whole bunch of people throwing a kegger at your secret place?”

“Well, I don’t know about that.…”

“Okay, you know how you wouldn’t want a bunch of people defecating in the woods in your secret place and not burying it and leaving their toilet paper everywhere?”

“True. I would not want human excrement all over my secret place,” Tom said.

“That’s how I feel about this. Gossip is like excrement. I don’t want it in my secret place.” She put her hand behind his head and pulled him in for a kiss. “This thing feels sacred to me. And I know other people wouldn’t see that or understand that. I don’t want to explain it. I just want to keep it private and sacred.” And later, when he would undoubtedly slip up and sleep with another woman with big boobs whom he met at the bar, as he was sure to, she didn’t want anyone to know she was ever with him. She wouldn’t want anyone to know she had been that stupid—stupid enough to believe he could ever be different from what he was. She wouldn’t want anyone to know he broke her heart. But she told him only one of her two reasons for wanting to keep it private.

“I just feel like I’ve finally come home. I want to shout it from the rooftops,” Tom said. “It feels like the biggest thing that ever happened to me. It’s hard to keep it a secret.”

“But will you? For me?” she asked.

“I would do anything for you,” he said, and leaned over for another kiss.

“Thanks, baby. And as for the one out of three days, you know what they say, abstinence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“That’s not what they say.” He laughed.

“No?” She laughed back. “I think we’ll have a lot of fun sneaking around. Ah, here’s one: That which is forbidden is sweeter.”

“You just made that up.”

“I swear to you I did not,” she said, and raised her hand as if she were taking an oath. “You know, I feel like when I’m with you and we’re quiet, I know the truth, but when we start talking about things, I start to doubt the truth, like words are just clutter that hides the truth that’s between you and me.”

And to Lisa’s surprise, Tom didn’t say a word. He just kissed her.

chapter twenty-one

SNOW REPORT FOR FEBRUARY 18

Current temperature: 24F, high of 27F at 2
P.M.
, low of 22F at 4
A.M.

Overcast with occasional snow flurries, winds out of the south at 10 mph.

103" mid-mountain, 111" at the summit. Trace new in the last 24 hours. 18" of new in the last 48.

Something was different. Cassie couldn’t name it, but something was definitely different. Nothing appeared to look different. She still sat at her desk and looked at the other kids, looked at them and thought about all they didn’t know, all the things she’d learned in the last year that they hadn’t. Sean Harlson threw chunks of eraser at Renee Van Hoof. Obviously, he liked her. Renee finally looked at him and flipped him the finger behind her back when the teacher could not see. Cassie watched and thought about how completely uncivilized people her own age were. She felt older, more mature, for sure, but that wasn’t what was different. She had been feeling that way the whole year.

It was something else that felt different, a lightness. Her body wanted to ski again.

She sat in class and dreamed of skiing again. She hadn’t daydreamed of skiing since her mother was diagnosed. When she realized that, she instantly felt a pang of guilt for enjoying life when her mother was not able to anymore. But then she realized that her mother wouldn’t want her not to ski, to spend her life sad. Her mother would want her out there on the mountain.

On the board, the teacher demonstrated using multiplication and division to create equivalent fractions. Cassie wasn’t sure what the point was. She missed that part. Apparently, mentally checking out during school was something that hadn’t changed.

The bell rang for lunch recess, and the teacher instructed them to line up. As she passed the ball box on her way out, Cassie took a jump rope. It wasn’t that she liked jumping rope. It just made her look busy. It was something she could do alone. When she jumped rope, no one asked her to join their game. And she figured it was good ski conditioning. Outside, she found a spot under the crowded covered area and began jumping. She watched the other kids. They all seemed so shiny and bright and happy. That hadn’t changed. But Cassie no longer felt angry at them for being all those things. That was different.

And she was able to jump rope for the whole recess without getting tired or losing her will. That was different, too.

After ten minutes, another bell rang for the kids to line up to go to the cafeteria. Cassie waited until everyone else was in line before taking her spot near the back. She didn’t like going through the line first and sitting at a table alone, watching kids pass and avoid her. When she was in the back, she could just get her lunch and let the lunchroom supervisor guide her to one of the few remaining seats. There was no decision to be made. There was no permission to be granted from other kids. Laurel told her where to sit and she sat, and whoever was next to her tolerated her. There was no need to speak, though sometimes they did. Today, the lunchroom supervisor sat her next to Renee and Alyssa. Hailey was at another table. Clearly, Renee and Alyssa were leaving her out today. Cassie felt so grateful not to be part of that.

“Hi,” Renee said.

“Hi,” Cassie answered.

“How’s it going?” Renee asked. She was trying. Ever since Cassie’s mom died, Renee tried to be nice. Cassie had to give her that. She was trying.

“I saw you flip off Sean before lunch. That was funny,” she said.

“Yeah,” Renee said with a little laugh. “Sean’s a jerk.”

“Yeah,” Cassie said, and then started to eat her lunch. That was it. Their conversation was over. It was enough to ease the tension, but not enough to make them friends. It was just right. Renee turned the other way and visited with the mean girls. Cassie finished her lunch and put her tray away. Usually, she hid in a bathroom stall for the remainder of lunch, just waiting for it to be over, but today she didn’t feel like hiding. Instead she stood by a window, looked out, and longed to be elsewhere. She thought about sneaking out of school and hiding in her garage or maybe walking to the river’s edge.

Mrs. Peterson, the librarian, walked by on her way to buy a little carton of milk and then passed her again. “Hey, Cassie,” she said. “Come with me. I’ve got a book to show you.”

Cassie followed her out of the cafeteria and down the hall to the library. Once in the library, Mrs. Peterson said, “Okay, really, you just looked like you needed out of there, but it wasn’t a complete lie because I have a whole library of books to show you.” She scribbled a note and handed it to Cassie: “
Please let Cassie come to the library when she’s done with her lunch. She’s helping me. Mrs. Peterson
,” it read.

“There’s your Get Out of Jail Free card,” she said. “If you lose it, I’ll write you another.”

Cassie gave her a little smile. “Thanks,” she said.

Mrs. Peterson gave her a wink and sat down to eat her lunch at her desk. “Go find a good book,” she said. “Enjoy.”

Cassie wandered off to browse the books. She had sanctuary. She had someone at school who understood a little about what she needed. And Mrs. Peterson would notice if she cut out of school early from now on, so she probably wouldn’t. Cassie didn’t want Mrs. Peterson to think she didn’t appreciate her sanctuary. Cassie would show up. That was different. She wandered back to the sports section and selected a biography on Picabo Street.

As she sat among the books, she thought about how none of these things in her day alone were remarkable, but all of them added up to some kind of shift. It almost felt uneasy or itchy. It was a restlessness. It felt like coming back to life. It was expanding. It was discontent. It was wanting more. It was movement.

And three hours later when the day was over, Cassie returned home, went to her room, and opened her mother’s book to the next prayer Kate had written.

God, wherever you are and whatever you are, please fill me. Please fill me so full that there is no room for fear. Please fill me so full that I keep on living even when I want to give up. Don’t let me give up. I know I’m here for a reason. Whatever that reason is, please guide me toward fulfilling it. Please fill me up so full that any negativity in me bleaches out like mold in sunlight. Root it all out, so there’s as much room as possible for you inside me. Fill me, good God, fill me until I overflow with you and spill you all over everyone around me.

In the years to come, Cassie would read that prayer many times and each time it would mean something new to her. But on that day, the words that jumped out at her were “keep on living,” and something about them gave her the affirmation that it was okay to do just that.

*   *   *

Tom went to the Pneumonia Shack and called out Jason.

The person who had the Auger could call out anyone and pick the run they would ski together. It was how a person got rid of it. But Tom’s motivation for calling out Jason was more than just unloading the Auger. He missed his best friend.

Jason was, in his own words, level five irritated. There were only five levels. As a practical joke, someone had created a very large snack bar sign complete with pictures and prices of tasty treats, put a nice coat of polyurethane on it, and affixed it to the Pneumonia Shack.

Tom looked at it and couldn’t stop laughing.

“Are you responsible for this?” Jason charged.

“Oh, I wish I was. This is brilliant,” Tom said.

“They used star screws so I can’t even take it down. All day I’ve had tourists pissed at me because I didn’t have any Snickers bars to sell them.”

“And now I’m about to show you why I’m worthy of my illustrious job title,” Tom said as he made a sign that read
CLOSED
. As he wrote, he heard scratching from inside the wall. “How’s Roger?” Tom asked.

“Roger’s excrement composting in the walls has helped keep the shack a little warmer this year,” Jason replied.

Tom duct-taped the
CLOSED
sign to the snack bar sign. “Wa-la. Problem solved.”

Jason applauded. “Well done, Tom. Well done.”

“And now I’m calling you out to ski Waterfall with me so I can unload this.” Tom reached inside his jacket and pulled out the ugly corkscrewlike necklace.

“I can’t be buying everyone drinks. I’ve got to put that money in a college fund for Junior now,” Jason said.