Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Wyatt
I allow myself to sleep in and just chill.
Part of the surprise my mom was referring to was Dad hired a local to fix all the problems in the cabin before we came up.
I’m learning this now over brunch since my whole family is sitting at the table close to noon.
Everyone slept in, except for my niece and nephew.
I’m just thankful my parents gave me a room on the main floor off to the side that has its own bathroom.
“What are your plans today, Wyatt?” Dad asks as I shovel eggs and bacon in my mouth.
“I was thinking of going for a jog and doing my stretches to start. Then I don’t know, maybe I’ll take the old snowmobile for a spin.”
“Just be careful around bodies of water. I know it’s been cold, but I don’t know if they are fully frozen,” he warns.
I heed his warning. After breakfast I head out on a light jog.
The air is cold and crisp, but it’s super clean and fresh and feels good.
After I’ve done my stretches, I decide to take a long warm shower.
I wonder if the Montgomerys’ son, Houston, is around.
Maybe I’ll go by their place since snowmobiling on my own isn’t very interesting.
My sister is at the door with Dave and her kids when I head over to the kitchen for a drink. “We’re heading into town for some ice-skating and maybe a cocoa. Want to join?” she asks me.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll chill around here,” I say. “Where are Mom and Dad?”
“They’re over at the Lockharts’, they are trying to figure out a schedule for the hot tub,” Casey replies laughing. “Apparently, they weren’t expecting Mom and Dad to be using the cabin.”
“That should be interesting,” I say. “Dad told me he thought he was getting the hot tub all to himself.”
“This whole situation with the hot tub is crazy,” Casey laughs.
“Tell me about it,” I reply and my sister leaves with her husband and kids. I smile and wave, enjoying the peace that is about to follow their departure.
I fill myself a glass of water and chug it.
Since I am hungry, I make a quick sandwich with the leftovers from brunch, taking a scone and placing some egg and bacon inside.
After I eat, I put on my puffer and boots and head over to the Montgomerys’.
Turns out their son, Houston, is in town because he is the one to open the door.
“Bro,” he says when he sees me. “Good to see you. Come in.”
The Montgomerys’ cabin is the largest on this side of the lake. It’s basically the size of a small city which is why they always hosted the Christmas parties around here, even if the whole town chips in.
“What have you been up to?” Houston asks, as he motions for me to follow him into a family room with a television the size of a movie theater screen.
“I go to Westfall U out in Boston. I’m on their NCAA hockey team,” I tell him.
“Nice,” Houston says.
“And you?” I ask him.
“At NYU doing a business degree. Probably going to get involved in the family business,” he explains. “But applying for an MBA for next year. Hoping to get into Harvard. Bastards didn’t take me for undergrad. Hoping they’ll accept me now.”
I nod. “That’s cool too.”
“Not as cool as what you’re doing. What position are you playing?” he asks. “Wait, let me try to remember.” He puts his forefinger up to his lips while he is contemplating. “Goalie,” he blurts.
“Yup, I’m a goalie. Still don’t have any solid plan for next year, but I’m hoping for the NHL,” I say.
“Damn, sounds so much more interesting than dealing with construction machines,” he chortles.
I don’t disagree but my future comes with a lot of instability. I don’t even know if I’ll draft. Houston is probably set for life. I keep my thoughts to myself.
“You want to play PlayStation?” he asks.
“I’m down for that.” I nod.
A smaller screen opens, and he gives me one of the controllers.
“So, is there anyone else around who’s our age?” I ask him.
“Not really, there’s Willa Lockhart. A few years ago, she brought a friend home for the holidays, some hot blonde from Florida, she was cool but you know how Willa is.”
His words don’t sit right with me. Willa was always beautiful. She was a hard worker because her parents also weren’t financially well off. Our high school had been a mix of rich kids from a few streets over from my parents’ house and our street, which is made up of small modest homes.
“Does Willa come to your parents’ Christmas party?” I ask. It’s so out of pocket. I haven’t seen Willa in years and the last time we saw each other wasn’t cordial by any means. Yet I remember her dark brown hair and her dark blue eyes, her full heart-shaped lips.
“Wyatt?” Houston asks. “Do not tell me you have the hots for Willa. She is as cold as ice.”
I want to punch Houston in the face, but he’s my only friend in a hundred-mile radius so I refrain.
“Nah, I was just curious. We went to high school together.”
He gets distracted by the game and I don’t continue with the Willa talk. Some things are better left in the past.