Chapter 2 Nicole #2
Practically vibrating with excitement, Benny helped her with the sleigh, the two of them getting it nicely situated outside the ski shed. He took off to accomplish his mission just as she spotted some customers pulling into the lot.
“I’ll be right with you!” she called, then hustled to get Copper blanketed and back inside. As she guided him into the stables, the big horse slowed at the sight of the sleigh, neighing noisily and kicking one of his white-stockinged legs.
“Still your nemesis, eh?” Nicole teased, giving his mane a rub. “No worries, big guy. It’s just there for decoration. Kind of like you.”
Business was steady all morning, but during a break in the flow, she heard the motor of the shuttle van, some voices outside, and then Brianna’s boots in the back office.
“Hey, Nic,” Brianna called. “How are our Black Friday sales?”
“Dark gray,” she replied, turning to see her closest friend step into the store, unzipping her puffer jacket.
Brianna’s long, nearly platinum blonde hair tumbled out from a knit headband, her hazel eyes sparking with joy. “What is that sleigh doing out there?”
“Waiting for lights,” Nicole said. “I thought it might bring in customers.”
“Always the marketing queen,” her friend quipped. “You know what else will attract customers? All that glorious, beautiful, white, fluffy, dusty, delicious pow-der. Woot!”
Nicole laughed at that, expecting nothing less from this snow bunny.
The daughter of Swedish immigrants who’d moved to the Salt Lake area when Bri was a baby, she lived for a good black diamond run on a day as sunny as her personality.
Nicole met Brianna Larsson their freshman year at the University of Utah and the two of them had stuck together ever since. Over their college years, Brianna had come to Snowberry Lodge many times and fell in love with the place.
Since then, they’d shared several apartments and now a townhouse twenty minutes away.
“How were the new guests?” Nicole asked as she headed toward the pole wall to straighten one a customer had moved.
“Guest,” she corrected. “Just one old guy all alone.”
“That’s weird.” Nicole kneeled on the display and reached up, fiddling with the pole. “Is this straight?”
“It’s fine. You’re a perfectionist.” Brianna pulled some drawers behind the register. “Where are my gummy worms?”
“In the trash, where they belong.”
“Say it ain’t so.”
“It ain’t. Top drawer, on the right.” Nicole climbed down and started on the boots. “Who comes to a resort alone?”
“Same weirdo who pays cash,” she said over the rustle of her candy bag. “I don’t care how old you are—use a credit card or Venmo, for crying out loud.”
“How old was…What was his name?”
“Mr. Walker. And he might need one—a walker, I mean. He’s gotta be…sixty-five.”
Nicole snorted. “Don’t let my Aunt MJ or my mother hear you call that old.”
Brianna came around the counter, digging into her candy bag. “You ready for Vermont?” she asked. “Three days with The Legend!” She wiggled a candy worm. “You know I never get enough stories of Flying Jack Kessler.”
Nicole rolled her eyes, long used to Brianna being starstruck over Dad’s impressive ski resume and reputation. “All he’s going to do is try to put skis on me. The winter visits are always the hardest.”
“I say face your fears, Miss Kessler, and let your father—a two-time Olympic competitor who won silver in the FIS Alpine Ski World Cup—teach you how to ski again. He’s Jack Kessler. I mean, come on. I came of age listening to him doing color commentary for every Alpine event I ever watched.”
As a wannabe-but-never-was championship skier, Brianna knew the sport inside and out.
“And I came of age with him jetting off to Vancouver or Sochi or wherever ESPN sent him. Honestly, you probably know his voice better than I do.”
Brianna angled her head. “You’re usually happy to see him, Nic. What’s wrong?”
“We have big problems at Snowberry,” she said, not bothering to sugarcoat it with her closest friend, and easily admitting what was on her heart.
“A fat tax bill is due, and we do not have the cash to cover it. We’ll have to be late, pay fees, and it’ll be even more next year.
My mom thinks it might be smart to sell the whole place. ”
Brianna abandoned the candy bag, tossing it on the counter to step closer. “Nic! I knew business was slow and that the new resorts have eaten into bookings, but…wow. Really? Sell? How can you? This place has been in your family since Park City was founded.”
“Not quite, but darn near,” she agreed. “Short term, we have to build the business over the holidays, which are usually our boom time. If we could, Mom can cover the tax bill. But long term?” She huffed a breath. “I don’t know. This place is worth a lot of money and selling it would be…easier.”
“And awful,” Brianna said.
“I’ve added a ton of inventory to our sale, because we’re all trying to come up with some kind of miracle to save December’s numbers.”
Brianna stared at her, narrowing eyes that cut right down the middle between green and brown. Slowly, she nodded, then started snapping her fingers as an idea hatched. “You know what you should do?” she asked, pointing a finger at Nicole. “Get your dad here.”
Nicole drew back. “Are you high on gummy worms?”
“I’m serious.”
“What good would that do?”
“He was the sleigh ride king of the mountain,” she said. “I’ve heard the stories. Everyone wanted to ride with Flying Jack.”
“The stories are true,” Nicole said, grabbing so many old memories from her childhood.
“Dad ran that sleigh so fast, it was a wonder he didn’t fly.
And with Red all dressed up like Santa? They were the Snowberry glory days.
Whistler loved it. But Copper?” She made a face.
“He slipped off the trail on his first ride the same Christmas my dad moved away. Trauma all around and the sleigh’s been still ever since. ”
Brianna lifted a brow. “I’m telling you. Get your dad to bring his Hallmark movie magic back to this place. That’ll help bookings and I assume the rides aren’t free.”
“They cost a pretty penny and are worth it,” Nicole agreed. “And it would help reservations to run that sleigh. Other resorts might have spas and lift access, but no one has sleigh rides.”
“The ultimate winter adventure fantasy and Instagram perfection,” Brianna said. “Get Jack to come back for one month and give sleigh rides, Nic.”
If only it were that easy. “He’s not coming back. You know the history of him and my mom.”
“I remember when you were dealing with the divorce freshmen year,” she said. “We had some tough conversations in the dorm lounge.”
Oh, they had. They’d been next-door neighbors in Chapel Glen, their freshman dorm, but their roommates were both pretty weird, so Brianna and Nicole bonded immediately. They’d shared many personal stories, including the heartache of Nicole’s parents’ split.
“Then you remember that Mom filed for divorce because she thought it would be a drastic enough move to get him to retire from ESPN, which she not so lovingly called ‘the other woman.’” Nicole huffed out a breath at the memory.
“But he wouldn’t retire, and, in true Flying Jack form, he actually left on Christmas so he could fly to a time trial for Men’s Super-G. ”
“Well, that was his signature race,” Brianna said. “Not that it forgives a Christmas departure.”
“Well, I’ve forgiven him,” Nicole said. “Just like he’s forgiven me for quitting skiing.”
“That’s a little different,” Brianna said. “You darn near died at nine years old.”
Nicole just shook her head, never a fan of the subject of her accident. “Anyway, my parents split up and…that’s that,” she said.
“But is that truly that?” Brianna challenged.
“Yes, it is. He went to Vermont because his parents retired there. Why would he come back here?”
“How many times have you caught your mom looking through old pictures or watching tapes from your childhood or their wedding video?” Brianna challenged.
“One time.” Nicole made a face, remembering the evening about a year ago, when she’d walked in on her mother doing just that. “Yeah, I think she regrets the divorce.”
“And so does he,” Brianna said.
“You’ve met the man once.”
“Twice,” she corrected, flipping back her fat blond braid. “I met him at graduation and another time when I went to Stowe with a ski club, remember? You arranged for me to have dinner with him.”
“And you asked him a million questions about being in the Olympics,” Nicole recalled. “He loves talking about his glory days.”
“And his life. After all, he’s my bestie’s dad, so I was interested. When he talked about Cindy…well, I swear I could see a little sadness in his eyes.”
“I don’t know,” Nicole said, her heart tightening at the thought of her parents still loving each other.
Brianna pointed at her. “One month, Nic. Surely he’d do that for you and his…his ex-family at Snowberry.”
She searched her friend’s face, thinking hard about the possibility. They had all promised to do whatever they could to help. Was this the idea that might actually work? Dad back at Snowberry on the sleigh?
She turned as the front door opened. “Customers,” she whispered. “Let’s focus on something that will make us money.”
“You know it could work, Nic.”
It could. But Dad coming back to Park City was about as likely as her barreling down a black diamond run. “Great idea, Bri, but it’s not happening. Let’s drop it.”
The family of four needed two sets of skis, poles, boots, and their little girl wanted to buy a North Face jacket—and they were on sale as of a few hours ago, so the mom got one, too.
The minute the shoppers left—after racking up a lovely four-figure receipt—Brianna slid next to Nicole at the cash register.
“I can’t,” Brianna confessed.
“You can’t what?”
“Drop it.”
Nicole exhaled a laugh. “Well, you’re wasting your time.”
“He’s retired, right? Not doing color commentary anymore?” she pressed. “What does he have to do over the holidays?”
She had no idea what a sixty-year-old former ski champion did with his free time now that he was done with broadcast television “Ski, I imagine, if the Stowe lifts are working and there’s snow.”
“He could ski here. We don’t call it ‘the greatest snow on Earth’ for nuthin’.”
“True,” Nicole agreed. Few things thrilled her dad more than skiing in Utah.
Born and raised right here in Park City, Jack Kessler had grown up bombing down these slopes, joining the junior racing circuit as a kid.
By sixteen, he’d had a spot on the U.S. Ski Team development roster and a reputation as a local idol.
As an adult, he competed all over the world, including two times at the Olympics, though he never medaled.
An injury sidelined his career and a holiday job interview at Snowberry introduced him to the woman he’d marry.
What would it take for him to come back?
“Go get him,” Brianna insisted on a whisper, as if she could follow Nicole’s train of thought. “Lure him to Park City with promises of hot cocoa and a horse-drawn sleigh—and the best skiing in the country. He could be a hero, save the lodge, and have the Christmas of his dreams.”
She stared at her friend, hating that the idea actually…could work.
“But my mother…”
“Please.” Brianna scoffed. “Shove those two under some mistletoe and let the sparks fly.”
Nicole gasped, the thought was so…enchanting. Perfect, even. “What a dream that would be, Bri. I mean, they were happy once. Before Dad started traveling so much for his big TV job. Before skiing stole him away again.”
The ache settled into her chest like it always did when she thought about it for too long.
“They should never have gotten divorced,” Brianna said. “I mean, I don’t know the whole history, but it just never made sense to me.”
“Or me,” Nicole said glumly. “He loved us. He still loves us. But skiing was his identity. After his injury, he felt like he lost himself. The sleigh rides helped, I think. And he did so much for Snowberry Lodge. But when ESPN came calling, it was like he finally saw a way back to that world.”
“And your mom couldn’t compete with it,” Brianna finished softly.
Nicole shrugged. “They tried. But it always felt like he was chasing something more, like the lodge—and us—weren’t enough for him.
Mom was too busy to ski much and I wouldn’t go, so he jumped at the ESPN gig.
All they wanted him to do was travel and he was never home, and she wanted him to quit.
He wouldn’t. And now ten years have passed. ”
Brianna gave her a look. “Ten years is enough for them to forget what broke them but still feel what brought them together. You can ask, right? What do you have to lose?”
“He’ll say no,” she said, already certain.
But that didn’t stop her from imagining…the unimaginable. Mom and Dad. Sleigh rides and mistletoe.
Now that could be the miracle the Snowberry Lodge needed.