How I Came to Sparkle Again (29 page)

“Good,” Mike said.

chapter twenty-five

SNOW REPORT FOR MARCH 30

Current temperature: 29F, high of 36F at 3
P.M.
, low of 24F at 4
A.M.

Mostly clear skies, winds out of the southwest at 20 mph.

107" mid-mountain, 118" at the summit. 0" new in the last 24 hours. 0" of new in the last 48.

The next morning, after Cassie left for school, Mike asked Jill, “Hey, what do you know about this Mauricio kid? Should I be concerned that my daughter is hanging out with a boy these days?”

He set two plates of pancakes on the counter, pulled up a stool, and sat across from her. He felt uncomfortable about how he had left things at the end of the Dummy Downhill. It was hardly appropriate. It wasn’t like Jill was his girlfriend. He looked through the doorway to a family picture that hung on the dining room wall. No, Jill definitely wasn’t his girlfriend.

“Nah,” Jill replied. “She likes him because he doesn’t speak English. They can hang out without talking. At least that’s what she told me.”

Mike looked away from the picture and back at Jill. Here was someone his daughter could talk to. Kate wasn’t here anymore. Jill was. “I know that’s supposed to make me feel better,” he said, “but that my daughter wants to hang out with a boy and not talk is still a concern.”

Jill laughed. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. Your daughter is solid,” she said.

Pete’s voice echoed in his head as he wondered aloud what was really going to keep Jill in Sparkle. The seed of doubt was sprouting and growing. He had to root it out. “Hey, Jill? When ski season is over, do you intend to stay here—in Sparkle?”

“I’ve been thinking about that lately,” she said, and stopped.

She didn’t say yes or no. He hadn’t expected that. He had expected her to say yes and put his fears to rest. “And?” he asked.

“I came here to get my bearings after having my world turned upside down. I came here to heal. It’s been, you know, like a vacation from real life in some ways, or maybe more like a trip back in time. But ultimately, I’m not eighteen anymore. It’s been fun, but soon it will be time to get on with life. I’ll be a single woman who needs my medical benefits and a middle-class salary. I haven’t started looking for new jobs yet, though.”

He nodded. “I understand.” Well, her answer afforded him a little time, and he wasn’t going to waste any of it. “Hey, do you have to work today?”

“It’s my day off,” she answered.

“Do you feel like taking a couple runs together or is that not really what you want to do on your days off anymore?” He was surprised to discover a tinge of anxiety as he waited for her answer.

“Oh, I like to ski on my days off. I just like to get off the beaten path a little more and ski something different.”

“I’m up for that,” he said, hiding his relief.

And so they found themselves trekking up the Southback, quiet and a little awkward. Occasionally they talked, but they kept it light.

The snow had warmed the day before and iced up overnight. Now the high-elevation sun was beginning to melt it into perfect corn snow. By afternoon, it would be heavy slush that grabbed skis and blew out knees. They neared the top, and their boots broke through the crust as they walked through a wind-varnished patch.

“So why did you live with Howard when you were a teenager?” Mike asked.

“I guess the short answer is that I was having a tough time in high school. Uncle Howard realized my parents’ religion was doing a number on me, and so talked them into letting me stay with him.”

Mike asked, “Your parents’ religion?”

“They’re Mormon. It’s so hard to explain, really. It still makes me crazy. They believe I’m not going to be with them in the same level of heaven. It’s a bit much. It’s a bit much to have your soul called into question all the time, especially after a tragedy when you’re already asking why—why me. You know.”

“I’m pretty pragmatic about it. Like I just think we make choices, and then things happen, and then other things happen because those things happened. You know, we get in our cars, it snows, and then we slide on the ice. Someone decides to fry a turkey, the grease spills on the burner, and their trailer burns down. I get married and have a child, and my wife dies, and now I’m a single dad. It’s kind of like karma only without this idea of deserving what you get.”

“I hate that idea of deserving. It’s a pointless idea. Very few people get what they deserve. And the whole idea of anyone looking at anyone else’s misfortune and judging it as something they deserved is appalling to me,” she said.

“And that’s why I’m going to start the Church of the Stuff Happens.”

“Stuff happens,” Jill agreed.

“That it does. But it’s not always bad. I say I need a nanny in the FAR, and you hear me say it, and now you’re in our lives and you’re my friend.”

Jill smiled. “It’s nice when good stuff happens, too.”

Mike looked out over the snow-covered peaks for a moment, and then he said, “It’s selfish, but I wish you would stay.”

“Well, it’s not entirely selfish. You’re probably wishing that for Cassie,” Cassie said.

“Partly,” he said. “It’s just that I realized recently that all of the moments where I could imagine my life being not just okay again, but actually happy again, were moments when you were with Cassie and me.”

“It’s only been eight months for you guys,” Jill replied. “That’s too soon. Especially for Cassie. Just yesterday, Mauricio asked if I was her mother, and you should have heard the tone of her voice when she corrected him.” She shook her head. “I can’t put my life on hold waiting for something that might never actually happen.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Mike said. “I wasn’t talking about a relationship or anything.” Suddenly he felt guilty, as if he were betraying Kate and Jill had just called him on it. “I just meant I liked spending time with you.”

Jill blushed and nodded. “Of course. I’m sorry. That was stupid of me to read too much into that.” She stabbed the snow with her poles a couple times. “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

He watched her push off and speed away from him. She made a few quick turns and dropped out of sight. He pointed his skis down, but instead of following her, he took a slightly different route, expecting that their separate paths would meet up down the road.

chapter twenty-six

SNOW REPORT FOR MARCH 31

Current temperature: 29F, high of 36F at 3
P.M.
, low of 24F at 4
A.M.

Mostly clear skies with occasional rain or snow flurries, winds out of the southwest at 20 mph.

103" mid-mountain, 117" at the summit. 1" new in the last 24 hours. 1" of new in the last 48.

Eric stumbled over to Jill. He had a few more stains on the front of his wedding gown. “May I have this dance?” he asked, and held out his hand. Even though the song was fast, he wanted a slow dance.

She obliged him. They moved to the dance floor and put their arms around each other. She was wearing a halter dress she had fashioned out of paper grocery bags completely covered in duct tape, so her back was bare where he placed his hand.

“You can rest your head on my fake boobs if you want,” he said.

“That’s really tempting,” Jill said, not tempted at all.

“They’re pretty cushy,” he said.

“Hmm,” Jill replied.

“And then maybe later, I can rest my head on your boobs,” he said.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” she said.

“Jilly, you’re hot,” he slurred.

“Why, thank you, Eric,” she said.

“I’ve had a crush on you since the day we met,” he said.

“Well, I am awfully cute,” she replied, trying to keep the tone light.

“You’re not just cute—you’re hot,” he said, and then he whispered in her ear, “I could make you feel so good.”

Since he was drunk, Jill didn’t bother to argue or try to bring him to his senses. She knew he likely wouldn’t even remember this conversation tomorrow. “Yeah, I know, baby,” she said. “But then I’d be spoiled for life because no other lover would ever measure up to you. Besides, I’m saving myself for marriage.”

“Really?” he asked, captivated.

“Oh yes,” Jill said with a straight face.

“Jilly, you’re such a good girl. Jilly, what if we got married?”

“Oh, Eric, I don’t think you’re ready to get married,” Jill replied.

He stood back and gestured at his wedding gown. “I think I am,” he said. “I really think I am.”

Eric dropped to one knee. “Jill, will you marry me?” he shouted. People within earshot turned to watch. Lisa took a picture.

“I’d love to, Eric, but I’m not divorced yet, honey. Ask me again in a few months,” she said. He stood back up and Jill rested her cheek on his fake boobs so he wouldn’t see her laugh, while Lisa snapped another picture. Jill laughed thinking about tomorrow, when he’d hear the news from someone else that he’d proposed to her.

Eric wrapped his arms around Jill tighter and said. “When I’m your husband, I’ll never let anything bad happen to you.”

And even though she knew he was very drunk, and even though she knew he wasn’t the one, a little part of her heart melted. “Thanks, honey,” she said. They really were the words she most wanted to hear.

He didn’t let go when the song ended, so she said, “Please excuse me, darling. I have to go to the bathroom.” Instead of going to the bathroom, she had every intention of slipping out, getting her boots and coat from her locker, and walking home.

Right before she walked out the door, she took one last look at the whole scene, at the drunken mass of people, at the guy dressed up in a giant foam penis costume, at Hans passed out on the bar in his wedding dress, and Scooter, also in a wedding dress, shaving a happy face into the hair on the back of Hans’s head.

No, while it had been fun apparently going back in time to high school for a few months, it was definitely time to move on. If she stayed in Sparkle, she would wake up in another ten or fifteen years still at the Kennel with a dog named after beer, a marijuana habit, and a stranger in her bed.

At the Kennel, Bud Light and Ale were snuggled on the couch together and Stout was stretched out in front of the woodstove. Jill stopped to stroke the fur on each one’s head. She wanted to fall asleep stretched out in front of the fire like Stout but had worked up a sweat dancing throughout the evening and now felt crusty, so instead she took a shower.

In front of the mirror, she stopped and studied her stretch marks. She stroked them and then looked up into her own eyes. All she could think was,
Wow, look what I’ve gone through.
It was almost a neutral observation this time. And she realized she simply felt proud of herself for the mere fact that she was still standing.

When she was done, she put on her long underwear and took an extra towel into the living room, put it on the floor in front of the woodstove, and sat there stroking Stout’s fur as she waited for her hair to dry. She closed her eyes and savored the heat on her face.

Just then, Eric and Tom burst in, carrying Hans. Bud Light and Ale jumped off the couch right before Eric and Tom dropped Hans on it.

“That’s it,” Eric said. “That’s the last time I carry him anywhere.”

“Light beer isn’t making him any lighter,” Tom said. “Hey, Jill. Hans passed out on the bar and Scooter was about to shave off his eyebrows. We figured we’d better get him out of there before Scooter pierced him.”

“That’s friendship right there,” Jill said.

“Jill.” Eric’s eyes lit up and then glazed over. “I’ll be right back.” He went into the bathroom and pissed loudly.

“I think he’s breaking some kind of record in there,” Jill said to Tom.

Tom waited. “Nah, Stout pissed longer than that just this morning. Hey, I think I forgot something at Lisa’s. I’ll be back later.”

Jill laughed.

Eric came out and squatted next to Jill. He opened the door to the woodstove, put another log on, and shut it. Then he pulled two pillows out from under Hans and put them on the floor. He laid his head on one and curled up behind where Jill sat cross-legged. “Jilly,” he said, “you’re my girl.”

Jill sat there in front of the woodstove and watched the fire through the glass pane in the door. Eric put an arm around her waist and either fell asleep or passed out, she wasn’t sure which.

She thought about Mike, about that terribly embarrassing moment when he said he hadn’t been talking about a relationship. How she wished she could go back and unsay all those things she had said, all those things that gave away just how much she had been thinking about him. Stupid, stupid, stupid. It was just as she thought. Nothing was going to happen there.

Nothing was going to happen here, either, which was why it felt safe to simply enjoy the feeling of warmth and fondness. She lay down on her side facing Eric, with her head propped up on an elbow. When he slept, she could see all the sweetness inside him. She wondered what it was that made a person’s face change when they slept, what it was that revealed more of their spirit.

She rolled over and snuggled into Eric so that he was spooning her, and again she felt the warmth of the fire on her face. It wasn’t time. She wasn’t ready. And Mike had known it when he’d said a little while ago that she was working through her stuff. But tonight she felt grateful for this little glimpse of what loving another man might feel like if she were to do it again—simply watching him as he slept and seeing all the sweetness inside him. She wondered if men had thoughts like that, if somewhere there really was a man who would watch her sleep and see all the sweetness inside her. She wondered whether David ever had.

Sometime in the night when the fire died down and the cold was beginning to pull her out of sleep, she was aware of Eric carrying her to bed and crawling in beside her. She wasn’t sure what to think about that. She was pretty sure it was platonic. She wasn’t positive whether or not she should be concerned, but in the moment it simply felt warm, so she dozed right through it. He put his arms around her again and nuzzled his face into her neck. Then his breathing became very regular and rhythmic, and she figured maybe he just needed a little comfort. Maybe all of them, no matter how afraid they were of true intimacy, occasionally needed a little comfort like that. If the experience of intimacy was a rainbow, sleeping next to a dear friend would be the yellow part. It was a warm fragment of intimacy. It was something.