Stuck on the Slopes

17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Rachel

W armth hit my face the moment I stepped inside the lobby, starting in my ears and then spreading through the rest of the little exposed skin I had. Even with the layers, I was still getting used to winter, and while I enjoyed the way the air nipped at my nose, the indoor heating didn’t feel like any less of a relief.

While Juniper had taken care of some business with Edgar—he hadn’t said what, just that Edgar asked for his help with something—I went to add some last-minute stock we’d gotten in for the ski rentals. Some mail had been abandoned at the front desk, so I grabbed it to see if there was anything I could help with. When I was halfway through the stack, I heard rapid shuffling down the hallway.

“Hey!”

I looked up from the front desk to see Mia flagging me down. She clutched a magazine in her fist. It had been rolled up like she was ready to whack a spider with it. Her knuckles were white. Before I could even greet her, Mia slammed the magazine down on the front desk. I could hear the pages crinkle as they unraveled.

“You need to see this,” Mia said. “It’s about you. Juniper, too, but mostly you.”

When I picked the magazine up, there was a picture of me, Juniper, and Sasquatch. Based on our outfits, they took the photo the other day when we were returning to the lodge after we’d been snowed into the cabins. In the zoomed-in photo, Juniper was smiling, closed-lipped but warm, right at me as I laughed about God knows what. There was no denying the way he looked at me moved far beyond professional. In the corner was a photo of us in the lobby holding hands from when the press found us before we snuck into the laundry room.

But I couldn’t enjoy a candid photo of him looking smitten over me for long. The words JUNIPER’S MYSTERY SKI BUNNY emblazoned the front cover in large, all-capital text. Beneath it, it read, “Who is the mystery girl at Juniper Hart’s new ski lodge?”

“What is this, some junk tabloid?”

“Yeah, but it’s all over Instagram and TikTok, too.”

“Huh. What’s a ski bunny?”

Mia winced. “It’s pretty sexist. I don’t like it.”

I raised a brow at her. “Just say it, Mia. I asked, so I won’t shoot the messenger.”

“It’s kind of like a hot chick who dresses like she’s ready to ski, but she actually would rather hang around the lodge and try to pick up guys. I’ve never heard someone say that in any context other than slut-shaming.”

I blew a raspberry and tucked some of my hair behind my ear. “Aw, man. And here I thought it was cute.”

“It’s a big part of why the old management had to sell the place. People stopped coming because you only ever came here if you were a serious skier or if you were looking to sleep with the instructors. One of them ended up sleeping with someone he shouldn’t, and it caused a huge scandal.”

Subconsciously, I fidgeted with my ring. “Why did no one tell me this before?”

“I think Juniper was hoping it could be left in the past. Also, I have no idea if he even paid attention to that.”

I sighed. “Yeah, that sounds like him.”

“You’re not gonna let the press talk about you like this, right?”

“What do you mean?”

Mia placed her hands on her hips. “Come on! You’re so much more than this, Rachel. You’re your own woman! Use those corporate politics you learned!”

“Ah, yeah. You’re right. Luckily, I have a media contact at Action 6. Let me shoot her an email and see if we can do some damage control here.”

“Can I help?” Before I could reply, Mia backed herself up. “You’re fantastic. I’m sure of it. But if you want someone to look over it who knows the local climate, I got your back.”

When she said local climate, I knew she didn’t just mean the weather.

The only downside to starting a new life was the feeling of not belonging. While it had taken a while to get Juniper to come around, he ultimately welcomed me with open arms. Even though it had been a bit of a feat in and of itself, earning his acceptance was the easy part compared to an entire community.

The folks in the village knew me by name. Sure, Nora knew whenever I’d swing by for fresh challah, but it wasn’t the same as living and breathing their culture—in this case, ski culture. I wasn’t one of them, a feeling I knew all too well growing up Jewish and being a woman who worked in corporate. I was an outsider. A Floridian in a snowstorm and the last time it snowed in Florida was a freak incident decades before I was ever born.

I couldn’t help but fidget with my ring, twisting it around my finger. “A second set of eyes couldn’t hurt. Come on, let’s go to my room and get something written up before it explodes in our faces.” I tucked the magazine under my arm as I led the way. “Do you think Juniper’s already seen?”

“How do you think I found out? My dad is talking him off a metaphorical ledge as we speak. Apparently, someone slid this under the front door this morning, and he saw it when he took Sasquatch out.”

That would be why he didn’t mention what “business” he needed help with. Juniper was trying to protect me.

“Fuck.”

“I swiped it off the table and bolted for you before they could notice. Juniper isn’t sure how to tell you or if he even should. He’s freaking out. Said something about not wanting you to have to suffer like he did.”

I frowned. “Poor guy’s been through so much that he always assumes the worst.”

“You don’t think you’re gonna get fired or anything, do you?”

“No, he wouldn’t.” As I unlocked the door to my suite, I remembered what Nora had said. “Guys like him are fiercely loyal. Even if the tabloids pull some shit, he wouldn’t.”

“Jesus, how are you not shitting a brick right now? I practically am for you!”

“This is business, baby.”

As I unplugged my laptop from its charger and grabbed it from the coffee table, Mia sat on the couch. I took the spot next to her and wasted no time opening up Google Docs, using an old press release template I’d saved from my old job as my knee bounced beneath my computer.

“No, but for real, how do you do it?”

“As a Jewish sorority girl, believe me, I’ve been called way worse than a ski bunny.” I began typing, not wasting any time. “I had every antisemitic slur thrown at me at least twice by boys in middle and high school who were learning insults from Call of Duty lobbies. And not to mention the plethora of frat bros who called me and my sisters ugly whores when we wouldn’t sleep with them.”

“You know, I never understood why guys call us sluts for not having sex with them.”

“It’s so dumb, right? Ugh, and then being a woman in corporate, especially once you get a management position like I did? I didn’t believe in Hell until experiencing that. So, as you can probably guess, my skin’s gotten pretty thick.”

“So what’s the plan?” Mia asked.

“We will not address the tabloids directly. That would feed into them, and I don’t want to give them what they want. But what we are going to do is make up some bullshit announcement that reminds people that the resort is opening soon and states my title. That will remind people to put some respect on my name.”

Mia clapped her hands together as she tucked her legs beneath her to sit cross-legged. “Oh, I like it.”

“Then, we send it off to the local stations, including LeAnn Weiss at Action 6, and we’ve successfully distracted everyone from the crappy tabloids. I can’t be a ski bunny if I’m the manager, you know?”

Even though we were the same age, Mia said, “I wanna be you when I grow up.”

We both laughed as I started typing. I started with the boilerplate I’d written for The Fox’s Den which listed Juniper Hart as the owner before it briefly detailed the building’s history. Then I worked my way up, including the reminder that the resort would open in about a month’s time.

“Okay, now for the bullshit excuse for why we’re writing,” I said. “Maybe a ‘we’re hiring’ announcement since we still have some open positions? I know the new people start after Christmas, but we still need a few more.”

“There’s so little happening around here that they’ll bite,” Mia said. “Go for it.”

I listed the positions we were hiring for and then included a brief quote from myself, something about how Juniper and I were looking forward to creating new jobs for the community, so I had a reason to sign off with my title.

“See?” I said as I dropped it into an email and hit send. “Easy enough.” At least, I hoped it was.

“Do you think there’s anything else we should do?”

The thought dawned on me now that I’d had time to process it. In the past, I’d put my head down and keep the peace or take charge to prove my worth. But now, I could do more than just that. I could stand up for myself in other ways, too. “One more thing, actually.” I set my laptop down and opted to scroll through my phone, digging deep into my Facebook albums. “I’ve got just the thing to fuck with those paparazzi.”

“Oh, you got all sassy. What’s going on?”

“Here.” I tapped into the photo of me, Ariana, and Michaela dressed in bunny suits for Halloween one year. With my curls and the high-cut legs, I looked like a 1980s dream, especially since the structured leotard cinched my waist and accented my curves. “A little Halloween throwback. What’s today?”

“Thursday.”

“Perfect. I may have forgotten to post on my own Instagram since moving here, so I’m due for a little throwback Thursday action.”

I added four photos from the Halloween party all those years ago to a photo carousel, put #ThrowbackThursday as my caption and nothing else, and then hit send.

Mia clapped for dramatic effect. “Brilliant.”

I grinned. “If they want to call me a bunny, I’ll give them a fucking bunny.”

Even though I texted him to let him know about the press release, I didn’t see Juniper all day. I didn’t see him the next day, either. I kept busy enough, but it was the first time since I’d moved out here that I’d been truly alone. Even before Juniper and I started hanging out together, we’d at least see each other on the weekends, even if it was in passing.

In hopes of ignoring the way it gnawed at me, I tried to work through it. It felt like reverting to old habits, so I made a point of setting an alarm at five o’clock so I could force myself to log off and binge some reality shows. But it didn’t stop the way my finger turned red from twisting my ring, or how short my fingernails had become.

To force myself to do anything else with my hands, which now ached from my fidgeting, I got a head start on Hanukkah baking. Even though I wasn’t hosting any parties, I made enough sufganiyot to feed my father’s whole synagogue. Note to self: deliver some to Nora before Hanukkah rolls around.

I tried to tell myself Juniper needed time, that this wasn’t about me, but the silence was as loud as ever anyway. It wasn’t just the absence of him that hurt, it was the space he’d left behind. Every little reminder of him, every thread that tied him to my life, seemed to mock me like ringing office phones once had. The winter clothes he’d gifted me didn’t compare to his embrace but were the closest thing I had. Sasquatch’s fur lingered on one of my pillows. Logging in to the resort’s social media was enough to flood my mind with nothing but him.

I kept glancing at my phone. Notifications consisted of social media comments for The Fox’s Den and texts from my sisters, but nothing from Juniper. My stomach flipped every time, a flash of hope that soured into disappointment. I hated myself for it. I was a strong woman, stronger than this. My parents raised me better.

But more than anything, I hated not knowing how he was feeling. No matter how many times I texted him, he didn’t respond, and I keep it limited as to not bombard or overwhelm him. The possibilities looped in my head, each worse than the last. Maybe I’d said the wrong thing. Maybe I hadn’t done enough to stop this in my job, and he thought it better if we didn’t blend our personal and professional lives after all. I hoped he wouldn’t throw whatever we had away over some strange press.

Underneath it all, there was this deep ache, raw and tender. It wasn’t just about him ignoring me—it was the suddenness of it, the way he’d gone from being a constant presence in my life to a shadow. I wondered if I’d misjudged everything between us, like I’d been holding snow in my hands without realizing it’d melt.

After a few nights, my mom called me when the sun set on the east coast. I’d never been more grateful for her FaceTiming me; this time, for their first night of Hanukkah celebrations. As I sang along with the prayers, I felt a familiar pressure building up behind my cheeks. When my mom turned to light the candles, I was quick to wipe my eyes before any tears could fall. The act left behind a small streak of black makeup on my knuckle. Ima rarely missed a thing, and I didn’t feel like talking about how much I missed them.

This wasn’t just my first day here alone; it was my first Hanukkah alone, too. While Hanukkah wasn’t the most important holiday—not by a long shot, regardless of what end caps at department stores selling mugs and cheap menorahs might suggest—it still felt strange to be going through the motions of the winter holidays by myself. Hanukkah was, ultimately, joyous and not a week meant to be spent in solitude.

Yet, here I was.

When I watched the sky turn a brilliant shade of orange, the sun dipping beneath the mountains, I got my little menorah out and set it on the coffee table where it could be seen from the back patio. Abba gifted me the menorah, an old one he’d inherited from his grandparents, who managed to pack it with them before they fled Europe in the early 1940s. Since my mother had the larger, newer menorah, we kept this one more as a historical artifact, but Abba insisted I should have it to use again.

As I inserted the two candles, a knock at my door startled me. I stood, wondering who it might be. With Juniper avoiding me, I figured it was Mia or Edgar, but there he was, standing in one of his usual flannels with Sasquatch seated behind him. Brown fur covered his right thigh, standing out against his black joggers. From the amount, I’d wager Sasquatch had nudged him until he took his medication, left his room, and walked over here. I never thought a service dog would play wingman, but it seemed Sasquatch was a Newfie of many talents.

I had no clue what to say to Juniper. So, like an idiot, all I managed was, “Hi.”

In typical Juniper fashion, he cut right to the chase. “Listen, as much as I want to stay away from you, I can’t.”

I wasn’t sure if I felt crushed or elated. Clarification . I needed clarification.

“You want to stay away from me?”

From the way his brows squished together, and his lips formed a tight line, Juniper seemed like he wasn’t sure how he felt, either.

“No, that came out wrong. Fuck. I like being with you, Rachel. I do.” He was talking with his hands, something I only saw him do when he was nervous. “But I should stay away from you, so you don’t have to go through the three-ring circus that is the media.”

I was sure my frown matched his own. “Juniper, I’m a literal professional with this stuff. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“You’re a professional with press releases and all that, yes. I’m not doubting your skills with PR and marketing. But this? This is tabloid shit, Rach. I don’t want to subject you to this.”

I crossed my arms. “And what if I’m okay with it? I’m a tough girl, Juniper. Really.”

“You never signed up for this, and it’s not fair to you. You signed up for a job, not for people speculating if we’re having sex on the front page of magazines.” His voice dropped to nearly a whisper as he looked at his shoes. It made it hard to stay mad at him for ignoring me. “You deserve better than that. Than me.”

“Juni. Juni, hey.” I placed my hands on his shoulders, forcing him to look back up at me. “Let them speculate. If the most scandalous thing people have to say about me is that we’re hooking up, then I’ll take it.”

He simpered. “Well, if it gets to be too much, say the word. Sometimes, it’s too much for even me, given everything.”

“I get that. I do. We can keep things on the down low if it makes you feel better. Then we can get them off our back unless it’s about the lodge opening.”

Juniper nodded in short, rapid bursts, almost akin to a settling bobblehead. “Yeah, yeah, that will help.”

“And don’t you dare say I deserve better than you! I know you’ve been through some shit, so whatever this is between us, we don’t have to do anything serious about it yet if you don’t want to.” I took a deep breath, yearning to get him back on the same page as me. “But if you ever did decide you wanted this to be something serious, then know I’d be proud to stand by your side. I already am. Okay?”

Something told me Juniper wasn’t capable of doing anything that wasn’t serious. Maybe when he was an up-and-coming snowboarder ten years ago. But now, thirty and traumatized, I got the feeling Juniper threw his whole heart into everything.

The lodge was proof of that.

But he said nothing. He nodded some more while he took a deep breath in and out. Behind him, Sasquatch nudged the back of his right thigh. I doubted the stress was doing his chronic pain any favors.

Finally, he spoke. “You promise you’re not just saying that because it’s what I wanted to hear?”

“I promise. If I hadn’t meant it, I wouldn’t have said all that. I left my corporate niceties behind for you a long time ago. But you have to promise me something.”

“What?”

Part of me wanted to hold the words back. But I didn’t want to wonder for the rest of my life where we stood, so I pressed forward. “That you won’t shut me out like that ever again. Do you know how worried I was?”

“I know. I’m sorry, Rach. I couldn’t face you.”

“Then text me. Even if it’s an emoji. Anything, literally anything. Don’t leave me wondering.”

“You’re right. I promise. No matter how in my own head I get, I won’t leave you in the dark like that.”

“Good. If you’d gone another day I might have barged your door down.”

Juniper chuckled, glancing to his shoes. “As much as I’d have loved to see that, I won’t call your bluff.” He treated himself to another long inhale and exhale. Then, he reached into his back left pocket and pulled out a small chiffon bag cinched at the top with a tied ribbon. “In other news, I got you a little something. Happy Hanukkah.”

I smiled. “You didn’t have to get me anything. But thank you.”

“Well, I wanted to.” He handed me the bag, and as I took it, he said, “I tried Googling how to wish you a Happy Hanukkah in Hebrew, but I don’t think I got the pronunciation right.”

“ Chag sameach . It works for most holidays.”

He repeated it twice, satisfied with his pronunciation on his second attempt as I opened the bag. I pulled out a pair of earrings I’d wager he got from Etsy. The design was of a cat holding onto a dreidel.

He said, “I read online that Hanukkah gifts are meant to be more small, thoughtful things, so I hope it’s appropriate.”

Clutching the earrings in my hand, I crossed the space between us, pulling him in for a tight hug. “Juniper, this is beyond thoughtful. Thank you.”

His body was stiff, but he eventually relaxed as he wrapped his arms around me. Juniper’s fingers tangled in my hair as he asked if I liked it.

“Juni, I love it.” I pulled away only to swap my current pair of earrings—menorahs—for the new ones. “These are so cute. You know me well. Do you want to come in? I was just about to light the candles, and Nora gifted me the best loaf of challah.”

“I’ve never celebrated Hanukkah.”

“First for everything, yeah?” I stepped to the side, leaving it up to Juniper, and to my delight, he crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him and Sasquatch.

“By the way, I saw your Halloween pictures. First, Edgar showed them to me in a BuzzFeed article, but then I went into the app myself.”

“BuzzFeed, huh?”

“You looked great. Not that you still don’t. The costume looked great on you, I mean.”

“Thanks! I think I still have it tucked away somewhere. Maybe next Halloween.” Even though I wasn’t even sure if it still fit, I winked. “I told you, nothing I can’t handle.”

Looking at him, I could see the realization all over his face with the way his eyes widened. “Wait, you did that on purpose?”

“Well, as you know because you were with me, I certainly didn’t dress up as a bunny this year.”

Juniper laughed once, and then it all came out as if some internal dam within him finally broke. “You saw them calling you a snow bunny, so you posted photos of yourself dressed like an actual bunny?”

I nodded and grabbed the matchbox, maintaining nonchalance. “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, right?”

Juniper walked over to me, cupped my face between his palms, and then closed the gap with a kiss. Relieved he’d come back around, I dropped the box of matches on the table, thankfully having not yet taken any of them out, and kissed him back. I could faintly taste spearmint on his breath, which provided a sweet chill. When he pulled away, he treated me to one of his rare, full smiles, goofy and love-drunk and maybe a teeny tiny bit high.

“Just when I think everything is going straight to Hell, you go ahead and take the reins.”

“Always a pleasure to.”

“Alright, so what’s Hanukkah all about? I’m admittedly uneducated.”

“Eight nights of praying over candles and then eating a bunch of fried food, which is ironic because I’m pretty sure IBS runs in our DNA.”

“Oh, that is cruel.”

“I made some latkes to go with dinner, and I’ve got more than enough sufganiyot for the two of us. You’re more than welcome to help yourself. But first, candles!”

“Let me know if I can help.”

“We got eight nights of this, so we can take turns.”

Juniper stood beside me as I sang the prayers, hoping my voice didn’t crack as I lit the center candle and then the first night’s. He smiled and wrapped his arm around me once I’d finished, pressing a quick kiss to my temple before we made our way to the kitchen to eat. As I sat across from him at the small dining room table, he groaned in delight at the taste of the latkes with applesauce then later the strawberry jam-stuffed pastries, and I couldn’t stop my smile. Juniper asked all sorts of questions about the holiday that I was more than happy to answer, grateful to share the night and its traditions with him.

Even though he sometimes had a strange way of showing it, Juniper cared. Despite his hesitancies, he cared enough to push past them and to be here at the table with me. He tried to hide it, but I caught the way he’d occasionally shift in his seat to crack his back or pop his hip with a wince.

So, as I made my way back to the kitchen, I grabbed my heating pad and popped it in the microwave. Once it was ready, I set that and the spare tincture bottle I kept on the table in front of him and asked, “Did you want to stay the night?”

“Thanks.” He set the heating pad beneath his right side as he filled the stopper halfway and then emptied it beneath his tongue. “It’s a bad flare-up day with how cold it’s been. If you’ve ever pulled a muscle or pinched a nerve, imagine that but non-stop.”

Not a yes or a no, I noticed. “We don’t have to do anything if you’re hurting today. I’d be down to snuggle up and watch a bad movie.”

Juniper’s gaze softened as he nodded. “Sounds perfect.”

When we crawled into bed after brushing our teeth, Juniper encased his arms around my waist, holding me against his body. His right leg propped up and wrapped around my hips, giving him a comfortable stretch and some added warmth for me.

“You comfortable?”

I hummed and nodded an affirmation as I got the movie started, another bad one with riffs. “Very much so. You?”

“Yeah.” After a brief, comfortable silence where Juniper partially buried his face in my hair, he said, “You know, I spent a lot of time after the accident asking why this happened to me. Everyone always tells you that everything happens for a reason, which sounds nice enough, but then something horrible happens and it sends you into a crisis.” Juniper paused to kiss my hair and gather his thoughts. “But if I hadn’t crashed, then I probably wouldn’t have stopped snowboarding. I’d have never bought this lodge after I retired, and I wouldn’t have met you. And Rachel, I… I am so, so happy I’ve met you. That I have you.”

My heart melted in my chest, leaving me a pile of mush in his arms. “I’m happy we met too, Juni.”

“Eight nights, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Noted.”

He said nothing else for the rest of the night, but to my delight, he came back for all eight.