6. Oliver
SIX
Oliver
“Want to grab happy hour with me when you finish up with this lesson?” Giles lifted the goggles away from his eyes and balanced them on his snowboard helmet.
I nodded and lifted my own goggles. “Sounds good. We just finished up our last run so I’ll be done in a few.”
I didn’t want to ask, but part of me wondered who might be joining us at this happy hour. I hadn’t had the pleasure of running into Frankie again, but even after a week, the memory of our kiss still sat heavy on my mind.
Giles headed in the direction of the employee locker room, leaving me with the two guests I had spent the entire afternoon with. They were pretty chill and in their mid-forties. Both had spent their younger years skiing and wanted to try something new. They weren’t very good, but I respected the effort. A lot of people hit a certain age and decided they were done learning new skills—especially skills some might consider dangerous. But not these two. They had committed, fearlessly sending themselves down each intermediate run I’d taken them on. No matter how many times they took a tumble .
“You guys killed it,” I said, holding up my fist for them each to bump.
“Thanks. You made it seem easy,” Jim, the shorter of the two, said.
“Yeah.” Tony laughed. He was almost as tall as I was, which was saying something, given my six-foot-three stature. “I wish I had the energy you do. You must have been doing this your whole life.”
A lot of people had that misconception about me. Many people I’d met in Colorado over the years assumed I was a local and had been doing some of these sports since I could crawl. They never guessed I was from the Midwest. The most I’d done was skateboard in the old neighborhood before I picked up and moved out here. “I started when I was nineteen, so only about ten years.”
“ Only about ten years ,” they repeated, looking at each other and laughing good naturedly.
“Kid, you’re in the prime of your life. I hope you’re enjoying it.” Jim patted me on my shoulder.
Little did he know, living every day like I was checking something off an imaginary bucket list was basically my life motto.
We chatted for a bit longer before we parted ways. I’d see them back on the hill tomorrow for another lesson.
Working out here for the rest of the season was more than I could have hoped for. I’d only been here a week, but waking up within spitting distance of the ski hill and being one of the first ones out there every morning was a whole new kind of thrill.
I’d been snowboarding and teaching lessons for years, but until now, I’d always commuted from Denver, sticking to the ski resorts closer to the city. The traffic was absolutely brutal. I honestly didn’t know why it had taken me years to even consider the possibility of staying out in the mountains for the season. It suited me.
“Oliver!”
A few of the guys who worked the chair lifts waved to me as they headed in the direction of town. Most of them stayed in dormitory-style accommodations right between the ski hill and Main Street. There was a time in my life when I would have enjoyed those cramped quarters and not missing out on any of the socializing. But now I found myself grateful for the solitude and space of my studio above Bev’s garage.
“Hey!” I called back, waving at them.
“We’re headed out tonight. There’s more of a nightlife scene fifteen minutes down the highway. Want to join?” one of them asked. I couldn’t for the life of me remember any of their names. But in my defense, they’d been working here since the beginning of the season and I’d just arrived.
“Thanks, but I’m good.”
They kept on walking, boards in hand and playfully shoving each other, clearly pumped at the thought of a more raucous night out. They were only a few years younger than me, but the jump from early twenties to late twenties felt more substantial than I’d expected.
At times, I felt like I’d always be young at heart. But spending time with a group of twenty-one-year-olds? That made me feel ancient. I’d come here for a fresh start—or maybe to keep chasing a carefree lifestyle. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what I wanted. A year ago, the idea of hitting the bars with guys like that—squeezing into places pretending to be clubs—might have sounded fun. But now? I was exhausted by the idea.
The invitation Giles had thrown me sounded a hell of a lot more my speed these days. He might be older than me, but at least we had more common ground .
The lodge loomed ahead. It was one of the only hotels that was nestled right at the base of the mountain. It reminded me of a Swiss chalet with its overhanging roof and natural wood siding. From what I understood, it had been in Giles’s family for decades. Sounded like a picturesque childhood, if you asked me. Although, it wasn’t like my childhood was tough to hold a candle to.
My phone vibrated in the chest pocket of my jacket. I tugged at the zipper and pulled it out, only to immediately groan when my mom’s contact flashed across the screen.
Speaking of my childhood.
I had no intention of dealing with her today, so I sent the call to voicemail and put my phone back. I struggled with the zipper, and before I could even get it closed, my phone went off again.
“Damn,” I muttered, irritated that my mother couldn’t take a hint. But this time, my brother Nathan’s name lit up the screen instead.
I hit answer. “What’s up, bro?”
“Do you know that when you ignore our mother’s calls, they end up going straight to me?” Impatience coursed through his voice.
I chuckled. “Thought you could field some for me, you know, since I’ve been taking the brunt of her love all these years.”
I almost choked on the word love . I knew it was probably the driving force behind most of her actions, but it still left a bitter taste in my mouth.
“I don’t have time to talk to her,” Nathan grunted. “I’m working on a new project and she’ll keep me on the phone for an hour, wondering if you’re alright.”
I winced. “Sorry about that.”
“Yeah, well, you were always the favorite. ”
I exhaled slowly. There was no point in arguing that. My mother had always chosen me growing up, while our father had chosen Nathan. It was how things had always been. That divide had driven a significant wedge between Nathan and me, but we’d managed to work through our differences in recent years.
“You talk to Dad at all?” I asked. I hadn’t heard from the man in forever. He’d forgotten my annual birthday call this past year, and I hadn’t bothered to call him for Christmas.
“He called to ask me about an investment opportunity last month. It was a really heartfelt conversation,” Nathan said sarcastically.
“Good old Dad,” I said with a dry chuckle.
“Yeah, well. What else is new?” I could hear Nathan typing on the other end of the phone. “I thought things were okay with you and Mom, though.”
“They’re fine.” And things were fine. Kind of.
“If they were fine, you’d take her calls.”
I unhooked the chin strap of my helmet, suddenly feeling suffocated by it. “I talked to her a couple of weeks ago. And I always answer her texts…eventually.”
The truth was, ever since Nathan and I had mended our relationship, all of my mother’s flaws had become a hell of a lot more apparent to me. She’d always seemed so fun and lighthearted growing up. The complete opposite of my father. He and Nathan were all logic and ambition.
So our family dynamic had always been my mother and me against the two of them. I hadn’t realized quite how fucked up that was until I’d finally moved out. Then our parents got divorced in the least surprising twist of the century. And now that Nathan and I were closer, it was us against our parents. The way it honestly always should have been .
I couldn’t take talking to my mother lately. She was an expert at playing the martyr and guilt-tripping me over every little thing.
“You know she combusts if she doesn’t talk to you a few times a week.”
“I’m trying to wean her off that habit,” I said dryly.
“Well, try harder. I’m sick of ignoring her calls too.”
“Will do, bro.” I had no intention of actually making good on that promise, but I still held out hope that she’d finally get the hint that I didn’t want to talk to her right now.
“How’s Key Ridge?” Nathan asked.
I sucked in a breath of the icy air, peeking back at the now-empty mountain. “Feels like I was meant to be here.”
“I’m happy for you, then,” he said.
“You and Charlie should come down for a weekend,” I said, referring to his wife.
There was a long pause before Nathan said, “We’ll see.”
That was the same response I’d gotten from him the other day when we’d spoken. I was kind of surprised Nathan wasn’t clamoring to visit. He hadn’t been much for outdoor sports when he’d first moved to Colorado two years ago, but he’d grown to love snowboarding.
Nathan told me he had to go deal with some things before hanging up.
I stood on the walkway in front of the lodge. The one that led to the small neon open sign by Marie’s. The sun had set behind the mountains, casting everything in a bluish hue. It would have been peaceful had there not been tourists packing into every restaurant and bar in sight after a long day on the slopes.
Rather than pushing open Marie’s door, I bypassed it and made my way straight to Bev’s house, located directly behind the lodge, and headed for the studio above the garage. I’d drop my snowboard off and change first. Another perk of staying right at the base.
Once in my apartment, I peeled off my layers and grabbed a pair of sweatpants out of my oversized duffel bag. I hadn’t bothered to unpack yet. I was the type of person who could live out of a suitcase for weeks.
This job and move might have been out of the blue, but it couldn’t have come at a better time. My best friend, Harrison, who I’d moved out to Colorado with, had moved out of my house to move in with his girlfriend. I hated to get all sappy, but we’d been roommates for years, and being in that place without him felt wrong.
Being on the road like this, slightly aimless, felt right. And Key Ridge was fucking perfect. If I played my cards right, maybe I’d get asked back for next season too. And then I could do something else over the summer months. I wasn’t sure yet—biking, rock climbing. There were a ton of seasonal jobs in these mountain towns. Whatever I chose, going straight back to Denver after this wasn’t an option.
Maybe I could even try out another state or something. The possibilities were endless. My brother was married. Harrison and his girlfriend, Lila, were attached at the hip. Everyone in my life was settling down, but that didn’t mean I had to.
I was a wanderer at heart. I thrived on little responsibility and no long-term plans.
Knowing what was next was none of my business.