Chapter 11 And Suddenly She Was My Baymax
And Suddenly She Was My Baymax
Knox
“Be so good as to show her everything, would you?” My father doesn’t look up from his phone.
I’m not surprised. This weekend there’s going to be a big celebration here with important sponsors, and he’s been involved in last-minute preparations for days.
Actually, our former chalet girl Lauren would have been in charge had she not… well…taken off. Because of me.
He types one more message with a frown, then turns back to Paisley. She is sitting straight as a board on our couch, unmoving. “So, Paisley. It’s good to have you with us.” He goes to the front door. “If you need anything, just ask. Knox will help you out.”
Ah. Will I?
Paisley seems to be thinking the same thing, because her fine features don’t manage to hide the look of disbelief in her eyes. In fact, rather than getting started with us, she seems like she’d rather just quit on the spot. No idea why that amuses me.
The front door closes, and an oppressive silence falls over us, interrupted only by the crackling wood of the fire. Paisley’s bright cheeks turn pink. Her fingers are gripping her sports bag that’s next to her on the couch, and she’s staring at her coffee cup.
I go to the fridge and get myself a soda. “You sure you want the job?”
“You sure you want to keep on being an ass?” she counters cuttingly.
Got it, she’s pissed. Which, after my behavior on the slope, doesn’t surprise me.
Once I’ve closed the refrigerator door and turned back to face her, she’s moved her eyes to mine.
She looks combative, which doesn’t really fit with her delicate features.
“Well, in any event, I’m going to be living here and can sneak over to your room at any time to plant a kiss on your face. ”
I grin. “Freak.” The soda can hisses when I open it. I take a few noisy sips, then point to her with the can. “Right, Paisley. Let’s establish the ground rules.”
She rolls her eyes. “Now I’m curious.”
“First: My room is off-limits. I don’t want to see you there. My private space is your boundary. Got it?”
Paisley shrugs. “Sure.”
I hop up onto the kitchen island and take another sip. “Two: To the best of our abilities, we’re going to stay out of each other’s way.”
“We’re going to be living in the same house,” she responds. “How is that going to work out?”
“That’s not what I mean.” It’s starting to get too hot for me next to the fire in my hoodie, so I pull it over my head and put it down next to me on the granite.
Paisley’s eyes stop for a second on my arms before she pretends to stare at my shirt.
Once again, I’ve got to keep myself from grinning.
“Of course, we’ll see each other. It’s unavoidable.
But you’ll do your stuff, and I’ll do mine. Okay?”
“I didn’t have anything else in mind,” she says.
For a moment she grits her teeth before a sudden snort escapes.
“Why do you think I even want this job? Certainly not to stick to your butt and adore you. Maybe that’s what you’re used to, but that’s not going to work with me.
I’ve got priorities. And to be honest, I don’t give a shit about you, Knox.
Seven hundred fifty dollars a week is what interests me. Not you.”
Her angry look eats away at me. If it weren’t for the fireplace, I’d swear the crackling was coming from her eyes.
“Then we’re all set.” I nimbly hop off the island and down the rest of my soda. Actually, Paisley was right. I’m not used to women not being interested in me. And it’s a damn strange feeling that triggers something in me. “Come on, let me show you around.”
Only now does she let go of the strap to her bag and take off her white down jacket, which is so puffy I’ve got to think of Baymax, the Disney character. Her hair is sticking to her neck.
“We’ve got a sauna. For your next sweat cure, you don’t need to sit next to the fire in your jacket.”
She casts me a poisonous glance. “Just show me the house.”
With a grin that comes from who knows where I point to the ceiling.
“There are three floors. Down here, we’ve got the living room, kitchen, two bathrooms, and the sauna.
Outside is the pool.” Paisley follows me as I point through the panoramic window onto our vast terrace with the heated pool and then walk on down the hall next to the stairs.
I point to a somewhat smaller door. “Utility room. Here you’ll find the washing machine, dryer, and everything you need to clean. Disinfectants and all that, too.”
Paisley opens the door and takes a short look around before closing it again. “It’s incredible that you even know this room exists.”
I lean against the doorframe. “There are definitely more…incredible things about me, you know?”
For a moment she looks as if she’s considering her response, but then she simply turns and points to the stairs. “What’s on the second floor?”
“The bedrooms.” I push myself off the doorframe and wave her to come along. Once we’re upstairs, I point to the first door. “That’s mine. The three next to it are guestrooms. Then there’s my father’s bedroom.”
Her eyes linger on the last varnished wood door before falling onto a photo standing on our roughhewn sideboard. It’s a picture of my mom, hugging me from behind. I was still small. Seven at the most.
“Is that…?”
“From up here on the mezzanine you can see everything,” I say quickly before she can say what I don’t want to hear. I turn abruptly and point downstairs. “Over there, the tourist area is laid out exactly the same. Which is practical when keeping an eye on everything while folks are eating.”
Paisley runs a hand along the wooden balustrade, her eyes trained on the chandelier and nods. “Good.” She turns and nods at the three empty rooms. “I get one of the guestrooms?”
I shake my head and point to the stairs at the other end of the gallery. “You get the attic room. It’s got a large bathroom and a little kitchen niche. That way you’ll have more privacy.”
She casts me a curious glance. “Why didn’t you take over that area yourself?”
Once again my chest tightens. Earlier the attic room was indeed mine.
My bed stood directly by the window that is inserted into the sloping wall, with the stunning view of the Rockies.
Mom and I used to watch the sun go down when she brought me to bed, I don’t know how many times.
After her death, I couldn’t stand the view anymore.
“Too big,” I lie. “I’m hardly ever at home and don’t need it.”
I turn away from the stairs and look at Paisley.
She seems to be lost in thought while leaning over the balustrade and letting her glance wander through the foyer.
When she turns her head to look through the panorama window into the outdoor area, which is lit up by recessed lights, the butter-yellow glow of the chandelier falls onto the left side of her face.
Only now do I see the swelling again, which is clearly visible to the side and below her eye.
Without thinking, I reach out and carefully caress the redness with my fingertips.
Paisley immediately gasps and bats my hand away. She flinches away from me so violently, that I’m almost afraid she’ll tumble over the railing.
“What happened?” I ask quietly, without really thinking she’ll answer.
And I’m right. Paisley moves away and rushes silently past me to the stairs.
I follow her. “Paisley, wait. Sorry… We don’t have to… Hey, where are you going?”
Dumb question. Of course, I understand that she wants to take off as she slips back into her Baymax costume and zips it up to her chin. And I shouldn’t care, right? But it bothers me. No idea why. Paisley’s presence is somehow…pleasant.
And that’s not what I want at all. I’ve got principles: No figure skaters. The thing with Harper was a one-off mistake due to too much booze and too little self-control.
But I’m not drunk now. I am as clear as the mountain air and slopes and nevertheless feel that slight stab when I see Paisley snapping shut her bag, her nostrils flared.
“I’ll be here tomorrow after training,” she says between her teeth, in order to keep a neutral tone. “I won’t make it sooner.”
“Okay. Should I, ummm, I mean… Who’s going to bring your stuff over?”
Her neck flushes. “There’s not a lot. I’ll manage on my own.”
“Okay.” My glance drifts to the window. In the meanwhile, it’s grown dark. “How will you get back?”
She shrugs. “On the bus?”
“On the bus?” I laugh. “Paisley, you’re in Aspen Highlands. You’re more likely to run into a bear than a bus.”
“Then I’ll call a taxi.” She pulls her phone out of her bag, types, and then pauses. “What’s your address?”
“I’ll drive you.”
She hesitates. “What about your ‘You do your thing; I’ll do mine.’”
I am already on my way to the little wooden stand by the front door to take my keys out of the drawer. My snowboarder charm jingles. “Starts tomorrow.”
Paisley shifts her weight from one leg to another and sucks in her lower lip.
I tilt my head and let out a deep sigh. “What are you waiting for?”
“I’m weighing the situation.”
“Ah. And?”
“Whether running into the bear would really be worse than having you drive me.”
“We can test it if you want. At the next bear, I’ll let you out.” I toss my keys from one hand to the other and grin. “Or, nah. Maybe not. My dad would kill me if his new chalet girl was unable to make me a millet bowl after ending up in some black bear’s stomach.”
“Funny.” She puts her bag on her shoulder and sighs. “Fine. Let’s go.”
“You could also get a snowboard, naturally,” I joke, open the door, and we go outside. The recessed lighting is emitting warm light and illuminating the dancing snow. It’s ridiculously cold. “If you stick to the slope, you’ll be downtown in no time.”
Paisley gets snow in her eye. She blinks several times before wiping her lashes with her fists. “If I knew how to snowboard, I probably would.”
“You don’t know how to snowboard?” I stop and repeat in disbelief. “You move to Aspen, and you honestly don’t know how to snowboard?”
Paisley knits her brow. “You’re acting as if that was some kind of deadly sin.”
“No but…it’s just so unusual. What about skiing?”
She shrugs and walks over to my Range Rover. “I can ice skate. That’s enough.”
“At some point I’ll teach you,” I say. “Snowboarding is cool.”
Paisley opens the passenger’s side door and sits down. “Maybe I’ll teach myself.” Her side-glance seems amused. “You know…the ‘my thing, your thing’ deal.”
“Good, do that.” I turn on the heated seats, start the motor, and back out of the driveway. “And I’ll secretly film you.”
“Oh, how nice! A stalker.”
“Oh, how nice! Bribery material.”
She laughs. “For what?”
“Who knows. At some point it will no doubt come in handy.”
“For sure.”
I grin. “So, besides Simon and Garfunkel, what kind of music do you like?”
“Hmm, let me think…” She pushes the tip of her tongue between her lips thoughtfully. I can’t stop staring. Paisley turns her glance away from the road and looks at me. “I really like old-school stuff, you know, like The Jackson 5. And Wham! Oh, and Katrina and the Waves did some good stuff.”
“‘Walking on Sunshine.’”
“Wohooo,” she adds. And laughs. “You?”
I point to the glove compartment. “Open it up.”
Once the CD is in her hands, she lets out a surprised laugh.
“Best of Disney? Are you messing with me?”
I laugh. “What do you mean? Disney is cool.”
“Sure,” she counters, opens the case, and puts in the CD. Aladdin’s “A Whole New World” starts. “But I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Disney guy.”
“No? What kind of guy would you have pegged me for?”
“No idea.” She grins. “Gangsta rap?”
Now I’m the one who has to laugh. “Gangsta rap? Oh, Okay. Got it. You caught me with my baggy jeans, bandana, and fake gold chains.”
“Don’t forget your huge dollar-sign rings!”
“Who’s the stalker now?”
Paisley has to lean her head against the headrest, she’s laughing so hard. The sweet tone fills the entire car. My body reacts with a warm feeling in my belly.
Once she’s calmed down, she lifts the case into the air with an amused expression. “No, but really. Who still listens to CDs? Don’t you have Spotify?” She nods in the direction of the radio. “Aux?”
“I do. But I like CDs.” We leave the mountain range and I turn right, toward downtown. “You can count on them. I mean, in fifty years, you won’t be able to find a song you had on some playlist or other. But with a CD you can say, ‘Hold on a sec, that song was on the Best of…’”
Paisley looks at me for a moment before giving a faint smile, which is impossible to interpret. “I wouldn’t have imagined you to be like that at all.”
I cast her a brief glance. “Already the second time you’ve said so. Maybe you shouldn’t judge people before you know them.”
She looks like she’s been hit on the head. Her lips part as if she wants to say something, but then close again. Before she can try again, I change the subject.
“Where exactly should I let you out?”
Paisley’s glance moves from me back out onto the road. As if she hadn’t been aware of our having left the mountain range at all.
“Up there,” she says eventually. “At Ruth’s.”
I stop in front of the bed and breakfast where, not too long ago, I used to stop by almost every day. Back when Aria and Wyatt were still together. Before my best friend cheated on her at a heavy après-ski party. The idiot.
The click of the seatbelt tears me out of my thoughts. “Great, thanks,” Paisley mumbles, puts the CD case back in the glove compartment, and tucks the blond strands of her hair behind her somewhat protruding ears. “Then see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”
She gets out and hurries around the car. I can’t stop thinking of Baymax seeing her trudge across the street in her big white down jacket.
Fuck. Why can’t I stop grinning? I pinch the bridge of my nose, shake my head, and turn around more quickly than I should, considering the weather. Snow whirls up, and tracks decorate the street in the rearview mirror.
Paisley is a figure skater. I’ve been staying away from those girls for years.
They call to mind bleak thoughts that follow me into my dreams and won’t let me sleep.
They make me hear screams that I’d rather forget.
They turn me back into a broken little boy who wants nothing but to hide in a corner for hours and to dissolve.
I take a deep breath. Whatever part of me decided to feel drawn to Paisley…enough. The demons in me shouldn’t be given any room. And I’m giving them room every second I grant Paisley.
From now on I’m going to be more careful.