Chapter 4
four
T he cabin is full of laughter and Christmas music when I push open the front door. I find my parents and Oma sitting around the coffee table filled with plates of snacks. I'd be diving right in if I hadn’t just gorged myself on nachos.
“Ahh, there’s our girl,” Dad announces, being the first one to see me coming in.
“How was the mountain, hon?” Mom asks.
“It was great. I wanted to take it easy so I’m not too sore to head back up this week. Ran into everyone when I was done.”
“Oh, that’s great, baby. I’m glad everyone decided to come up this winter. Want to join us? We were just about to turn on the first Santa Claus movie and string some popcorn.”
“Sure, give me a few minutes to shower and change.”
“Go, go.” She shoos. “No hurry. We’ll wait to start it.”
“Come on! Follow the pattern. It’ll look better on the tree,” I plead with my chaotic father.
“The pattern is that there is no pattern,” he argues back.
“That’s not a thing, Dad,” I say, shaking my head.
“It is now!” he adds, holding up his string of popcorn and cranberries.
By the time the movie credits are rolling across the screen, we have a nice collection of garlands made.
“Are we going out for the tree tomorrow? Christmas is only a few more days away,” I ask, standing up and dusting the popcorn crumbled onto the floor.
“If you can keep yourself off the slopes, we can head out into the woods tomorrow and chop one down. I just need to pick the permit up at the forestry office.”
“Deal. But can it be a late start. I’m heading out in a bit to meet up with everyone at the saloon.”
The clock on the wall says it’s only just after four. I won’t leave until eight at the earliest. Walking to the saloon will take less than ten minutes, so I don’t have to worry about how much I drink. I could find my way back to this cabin blindfolded.
Going out here, in this small mountain town, is nothing like hitting the bars or going to the frats back at school. I’ll throw on some jeans, a sweater, and maybe a little mascara and call it good.
Because of all that, I pick up the remote and click the play next button. Santa Claus 2 begins.
The bar is pleasantly muted. Brushing the freshly fallen snow from my shoulders, I unzip my ski jacket and add it to the collection discarded on the wall of hooks at the door. I don’t forget to wipe my boots on the long runner before stepping onto the ancient hardwoods.
This place looks like a cowboy, and a lumberjack had a baby who decided to grow up and become an interior designer. The dark wood is hugely outdated. Red plaid adds some color mixed with the pictures of black bears and pine trees. Yet, wagon wheels and skeleton heads of buffalo hang from the back wall for some reason.
Besides the eclectic decor, it has everything a few rowdy kids from the city could need: booze, music, and entertainment in the form of your typical pub games.
I spot Luke and Zach huddled together in a large corner booth. Zach’s animated point is dominating whatever conversation they’re having. I stop at the bar before heading over, flagging down the bartender at the other end.
“Hey, sweets, I was wondering if I would get to see my girl this week.”
“Bunny! You’re still working away back there? When is that old man of yours going to let you retire.”
“Oh baby, that man told me to quit working years ago. But then, who would serve you shitheads and the old-timers that ain’t got nothing better to do around here?”
My laughter bubbles up, breaking free as I try to answer her. “I’m sure someone is waiting to steal your spot.”
“They’ll be waiting a long while yet. What can I get for you.”
“Old fashioned, please.”
Her eyebrows raise, giving me a ‘what the fuck’ look before she shakes her head and gets to draining the alcohol into my glass. “Here you go. Keep those boys of yours in line tonight. I’m not looking to clear out any fights. That, I’m too damn old for.”
“Yes ma’am, I’ll try at least.” I laugh, dropping my card on the bar for her to start my tab.
“Boys, boys, boys.” I break up their conversation. “How are we doing this evening.”
Their rowdiness builds tenfold when they turn and see me sliding into the booth.
“Finally! Jennifer’s taking her sweet time making it out tonight,” says Luke.
“She’ll be here soon. She just texted me when I was walking over,” I let him know.
“So, it’s just the four of us tonight?” Zach asks.
I shrug not knowing anyone else that might join us. “You know what that means, right?” I ask them.
“Teams,” Zach states with a wicked smile joining his curious eyebrow raise. “Partners?” He stares me down, ignoring Luke’s tug on his sleeve.
“They’re going down,” I agree, and Luke groans as we ignore him. “There’s your partner in crime now.” I point to Jennifer stomping the snow off her boots by the front door.
I wait for her to make her way over to us and slide into our booth before saying, “Three rounds: pool, darts, karaoke. Losers take the dare.” It’s nothing too crazy, but it’s everything the bar has to offer.
“Maybe the winners will finally come up with something better than streaking through town?” Luke asks with an eyebrow quirked.
“I’m sure the people still awake at two a.m. appreciate the view.” I shrug, laughing at the truth of it.
We take our fresh drinks and cue up at the table. Luke and Jennifer are huddled on the other side, whispering.
“Swindling everyone over in Eastern Washington with your pool skills?” Zach asks, getting the balls organized in the triangle.
“I wish I had time. Senior year is no joke. I’m ready to graduate and move to a place that isn’t crawling with college kids.”
“You might regret those words once you’re back in the real world, paying for the shit you need to survive.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me. I hope to land an offer at a firm, maybe somewhere out of state. I’ve got some feelers out.”
“Damn, look at you girl. Killing it, already.” He sets the triangle off to the side and stares down our opponents. “You two love birds ready to play, or do you want to forfeit already so you can be on your way.”
Luke looks like he loves that idea, but Jennifer’s competitive streak is almost as strong as mine is.
The night moves on, drinks flow, and the game wins go back and forth. We have to play three rounds of pool to determine who gets the point there. Darts gave us our first L, but then we hit karaoke.
“You can’t sing that. It’s too easy,” Jennifer complains.
Zach hits the keys to drop the record from the jukebox. The karaoke setup here isn’t perfect; there’s no screen to read off the lyrics, so you have two options. One, hope your signal is strong enough to pull them up on your phone, or two, be highly confident in your song choice.
Zach and I have a history with ours. We wait for the music to start, bringing the cordless microphones Bunny hesitantly handed over to our lips.
We start our rendition of “Summer Nights,” adding dance moves to accompany our performance while the rest of the patrons add the backup vocals. The music clicks off, and the bar erupts in cheers. We give them a bow and jump off the small stage, breathless and falling into each other’s arms in a fit of drunken laughter.
Jennifer and Luke are hesitant to take the stage after our standing ovation. They do their best to get the older crowd on their side with “Picture” by Kid Rock and Sheryl Crow, but the song’s too slow and emotional for this time of night.
Their face says it all when they make it back to our table. I’m big enough not to gloat, even after three… no, four drinks. Zach, however, has no such qualms, poking fun at their second loss of the night.
“You know what this means?” he asks the table enthusiastically.
“Yeah, yeah, we know, man. You guys think of your dare while we get our last round.”
“What do you think? Same old dare, or do you have something better brewing in that brain of yours, beautiful?”