CHAPTER EIGHT
Rory
I flash Breck one last smile before we walk out the door and into the sunshine. I have no idea why I thought I was the best person to do this. I’ve helped a few friends learn to snowboard over the years, but I’ve never taught a kid. I have seen enough parents yelling on the slopes to know that they typically learn better from anyone who’s not mom or dad, though.
I knew as soon as they walked into the lodge—and from the few peeks I took out the window to watch—that this morning didn’t go quite the way Breck planned. Willow’s ever-present smile was missing, and he looked weary—even if he was trying to hide it. Willow’s going to need some real lessons, like the ones I had growing up, but maybe I can help her end today on a good note.
Willow points to her board on the rack, the standard Burton Grom the ski school rents to all the kids. It’s propped against a solid black board with vibrant teal bindings and stickers from a handful of Australian ski resorts. Breck’s board. I run my fingers over it and smile. It’s practically the reverse of my own, which is sitting right where I left it this morning, a few rows down. Teal and mint swirling together in an abstract design on the top, solid black on the bottom, with black bindings. I tuck one under each arm and head for the magic carpet, Willow’s snowpants swishing beside me as we walk.
At the base, I ask, “Do you surf with your dad back home?”
She looks at me, a little confused, and says, “Duh.”
She’s got spunk, I’ll give her that.
“Okay.” I hide my smile behind my gloved hand. “So when you surf, which foot do you have forward?”
“This one.” She shakes out her left foot in front of her.
“Alright, good to know. I ride with my right foot forward, and we call that goofy foot here. Do they call it that in Australia?” I ask, and she shrugs. “I bet your dad is regular foot like you are.”
“I don’t know…” Her lips tip up in a half smile and she says, “He’s pretty goofy if you ask me.”
I snort a laugh. It’s not a side of him I’ve really gotten to see, but I can imagine it based on the stories I’ve heard.
She shows a certain level of comfort when we clip in and skate over to the carpet, so that’s a good sign.
“If you’re a surfer chick, you should have no problem with this. We just need to get you as confident on the snow as you are on the water,” I say when we reach the top. Willow smiles and straightens her shoulders, a hint of pride in her features. “I’m going to start here.” I slide down the slope a few feet and stop right in front of her.
Reaching forward, I grab her pink gloved hands in my teal ones and tell her to lean back into her heels. Then I start inching my way backward down the hill, her following along facing me. “Good job. Keep all your weight on your heels, okay? Better to fall on your butt than on your face.”
She giggles. “You said butt .”
I blanch… Does that count as a bad word? “Uh… well, what should I call it?”
“Daddy says it’s my bottom, but I’ve definitely heard him say I’m a pain in the ass so…” She lifts her shoulders and giggles. I choke back the laugh crawling up my throat—I can just picture him mumbling that under his breath with an eyeroll.
“Let’s stick with bottom, I think.” It sounds like her swear jar gets enough donations. She gives me a look like if you say so .
She inches forward as I inch back and I guide her back and forth across the small slope, like a falling leaf in the wind. We reach the bottom and with a smile she exclaims, “Let’s go again!”
“Sure thing, Bug.” Her head whips my way and she smiles, her cheeks turning slightly pink. The endearment slipped from my lips just as easily as it did that first day at the airport. I like it, and I’d say she does too.
We’ve gone up and down the hill three more times and she hasn’t fallen. This time I’m not even holding her hands, so I pull out my phone and hit record to capture the last few seconds of her run. She stops in front of me—on her own, thank you very much—and I woop, lifting both hands to give her a double high five. It knocks her off balance, arms flailing by her sides before she falls flat on her “bottom.” Luckily she laughs and lies back, swiping her arms through the snow. I snap another picture of her makeshift snow angel.
Once we’re both unclipped, we walk back to the lodge where I see Breck watching us from the window, a wide grin lighting his face. He’s not smiling for me, but it makes my cold cheeks warm with a blush all the same. We climb the steps hand in hand and Breck abandons his position by the window to run over and pull Willow into his arms as soon as we’re inside.
“You did awesome, baby girl! Wow!”
“Thanks, Daddy! It was fun!”
“I’m so glad. You’re amazing.” He presses his lips into her hair before setting her feet back on the floor. In the next moment, I find myself enveloped in a similar hug, one that pulls me slightly off my feet as well. Strong arms and a firm chest surround me, along with a scent that’s all snow and spice. The whispered “thank you” against the shell of my ear has a shiver running down my spine.
“You’re welcome,” I whisper, and I mean it.
He lets go, taking just one step back, and my breath gets caught in my lungs. I can’t seem to let it out. There’s so much feeling in his face—gratitude and appreciation, with a hint of something I can’t place underneath. The second stretches and I can’t look away, don’t want to look away.
“Daddy!” Willow pops up between us. “Where’s my hot chocolate?”
Breck chuckles and reaches to undo the clasp on her helmet. “I figured I’d get it as soon as you finished so it wouldn’t get cold. I’ll be right back.”
Willow and I strip out of our gear, setting it by the fire to dry. We’re just settling in when Breck comes back with two steaming cups of cocoa, a basket of french fries, and chicken tenders.
“I thought you both deserved a snack after all that hard work.”
Willow squeals and tucks into the fries with abandon. I shake my head, biting back a smile, and reach over to grab a few myself.
“Thanks for this. I’m glad I decided to work here today instead of in the office.”
“Me too,” Breck says.
He sits across from me and, when I look up from the food, I blush under his gaze. The attraction that’s always been there for me burns anew under it, and I struggle to break its hold. All these years I never thought much of it—he lived in Australia, he was Wes’s best friend, he was with Talia, he had Willow. I was just a woman appreciating a man, that’s all.
My phone vibrates across the table with a video call from Wes, snapping our connection. I reach for it, swiping without a thought for where we are. I never skip out on a call from my brother. Ever.
“Hey, Wessy,” I say with a mischievous smile, and he nearly growls at me. He hates when I call him that, but I don’t care even one little bit. I laugh and flip the camera toward Breck.
“Hi. ‘Wessy,’ was it?” Breck says, his accent wrapping around the word, and I burst out laughing. Wes’s groan through the line only makes it worse, making me snort.
“No. You do not get to call me that. Take it back,” he barks at his friend.
“Ooohhh, can I call you Uncle Wessy? Please!” Willow’s signature giggle joins the fray, putting me in stitches. He’s going to be so mad at me for this.
“No, you absolutely cannot,” he says firmly, but with the way he’s smiling, it doesn’t sound like he means it. “Only Rory gets to call me that, and I may need to revoke her privileges.”
“Impossible. I’d like to see you try.” I flip the camera back to myself then stand and move around behind Breck and Willow, leaning my phone against my water bottle.
“You’re the worst.” He pouts and scrunches his eyebrows. “I’m rethinking my call now. I don’t know if you deserve to hear my exciting news.”
I stop laughing, my interest piqued. Exciting news? He and Joss are already coming in a couple weeks, what could be more exciting than that?
“Did you get a job offer?” I ask. He was working for Breck in Sydney as a skydive pilot, but when Breck—and Talia and their business partner Drew—sold the business last month, he decided to put in applications for the airlines. He’s been hoping for Qantas, the same airline Joss works for as a flight attendant.
“No, the interview is next week.” He’s toying with me now. Giving me nothing.
“Tell me now, brother, or I’m getting out the baby books to show Breck and Willow.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” he seethes.
“Wouldn’t I?” I lift a brow, daring him to contradict me.
“No, don’t tell her,” Breck interjects. “I want to see Baby Wessy.”
Wes glares at his friend and huffs. “Y’all are the worst,” he mumbles. “But I’m actually glad you’re together right now.” He smiles wide, dimples popping behind his soft beard, blue eyes bright with excitement. “I’m going to propose to Joss.”
He holds a ring box in front of the screen and pops the lid. My gasp is nothing next to the little scream Willow lets out.
“Uncle Wessy, that’s so pretty! I want one!” This draws a laugh out of Breck, and all of us join in.
“I’m so happy for you, Wes.” Breck looks almost misty-eyed. Nothing but love for his friends in his expression.
I’m definitely misty-eyed. No, I’m a step past that. I have full-on tears rolling down my cheeks. I’m so excited for my big brother. I never thought I’d see him settle down. This didn’t seem remotely possible when he was dragging himself from the trenches of his grief last year.
“Rory, for goodness’ sake, why’re you crying?”
“Because I’m just so happy. Ugh. Why can’t you be here right now so I can hug you?”
“You’ll be able to hug me real soon. I promise,” he says, eyes soft and smile warm.
I nod and wipe the tears from under my eyes.
“Seriously though, this is incredible. What’s your plan? Tell me everything,” I say, leaning a hand on Breck’s and Willow’s chairs.
“I can’t let you in on all my secrets,” he jokes, and I glare at him. “I actually have a question for you though.”
“Okay, shoot,” I say, back to being seriously intrigued.
“I’m going to ask Joss to elope while we’re in Tahoe.”
“What?! Are you serious?” I yell, drawing attention from those around us. Luckily the lodge has cleared out quite a bit. I’m so excited I could jump up and down. In fact… I do. I’m jumping around behind Breck and Willow, the two of them staring up at me like I’ve grown a second head.
Wes’s genuine, hearty laugh booms through the phone. Willow joins in, and I can feel Breck’s eyes as they watch me.
“Rory,” Wes says, but I’m still bouncing around like a kangaroo. “Rory!” he says more loudly, and I stop to look at him. “I haven’t even gotten to the best part. I want you to do the photos like—”
He’s cut off by my squeak of excitement. “Shut up! You want me to do your elopement? Do you want me to ask Jamie to officiate? Oh my gosh, yes. I can get everything set up here. Just tell me what you want.” All my thoughts and questions ramble together.
“Of course I want you to do it. And we could ask Jamie to officiate, unless…” He trails off and looks to Breck. “Would you want to do it?”
Breck’s eyes instantly go glassy and he glances away. Wes’s face falters, concern written there. “You don’t have to. I know right now might not be the best time for this. I’m sor—”
This time it’s Breck who cuts him off.
He looks straight at my brother, emotion leashed just under the surface, silver tears pooling in the corners of his blue eyes. “I would be honored, brother.” His voice quavers on the word, and I wish more than ever we were all in the same space right now instead of separated by seven thousand miles.
The look that passes between these two men is layered. They may have only spent a few years on the same continent out of the last fifteen they’ve known each other, but their bond is deep. I can picture it—the way it spans the oceans to reach from where we sit on a snowy mountain in Tahoe, across the world to where Wes sits on his balcony in Sydney.
Wes clears his throat and nods, words failing him.
“Do I get to be the flower girl?” Willow chimes in, and they break eye-contact, looking instead at the darling girl whose eyes are alight at the idea of being part of this wedding.
“Absolutely. Make your daddy buy you a pretty dress, okay?” Wes gives her an over-the-top wink. His dimples are on full display and the crinkles around his eyes are more pronounced. I’ve never seen him look so happy.
My brother is getting married. My brother is going to elope and he wants me to take the photos, to organize the whole thing. He’s one of only two people in my life who knows how much I love this, and it means everything.
That thought crashes over me like a wave, dousing all the elation I was just feeling. Mom and Dad will be part of this. They’ll see me in my element, and they’ll never approve. My heart sinks, but I keep my smile big and laugh along for the remainder of the conversation. All the while, I can’t help wondering how much it will hurt at the end when I don’t get to do this anymore.