3. Jenna
jenna
. . .
T he one thing I never had when I was growing up was money. My parents worked, and my father often took as many overtime hours as he could or picked up odd jobs on the side to make sure my mom and I had a comfortable life. As a teen, I had a job and learned the value of a dollar. I never whined to my parents that life wasn’t fair or stomped my feet when I didn’t get my way.
As Jimmy drives toward Santa Monica to the ski shop, I wonder where I went wrong as a parent. Spoiled doesn’t begin to describe Eden right now. I know some of it has to do with her environment and the fact that her father is a musician in a successful band, but I can’t help but ask myself—where did I go wrong? I suggested to Jimmy and Eden that we rent their ski equipment since this was our first time going. You would think I started the next world war or something with the hand flailing, the dramatics, and the “I have to have the best” comments that followed. Jimmy agreed with her, and I did what I always do, deferred to him. The way I see it, it’s his money, and if he wants to spoil her, he can. He’s earned it.
Eden is an amazing daughter. She’s a straight-A student, focused on a career path, doesn’t disrespect Jimmy, and has never done anything for either of us to lose trust in her. So, why am I so upset that she’s pitching a fit about going to Vermont for the holidays instead of Hawaii? Deep down, I think it’s because it’s something I really want to do, and Eden gave me flack about it.
Jimmy pulls into the parking lot, finds a spot farthest away because he doesn’t want anyone to ding his Escalade, and shuts off the engine. For a moment, we’re silent. Eden’s enthralled with whatever song or podcast she’s listening to, and my mind is racing. I’m excited to see Katelyn and Josie, to spend hours upon hours with my best friends, but the snow isn’t my thing. I hate the cold, especially after living in California for so long. However, I’m willing to brave the frostbite for some fun and relaxation.
The three of us pile out of the car. Eden trails behind Jimmy and me, with her ear pods, plugs, or whatever the heck they’re called these days, jammed into her ears. When we get to the double doors, Jimmy stops and turns toward our daughter. He holds his hand out, and she sighs as she drops her phone and ear thingies into his hand.
“Thank you, Little One,” he says with a smile. Jimmy has never stopped calling Eden by the nickname he gave her as a baby. To my knowledge, she’s never asked him to stop. Even if she did, I don’t think he’d listen to her. He likes to use pet names. Mine doesn’t bother me in the slightest.
He opens the door for us and ushers us in. I watch as he and Eden take in the store. I know zilch about skiing or snowboarding and can honestly say I’m not sure I’ve even been sledding.
“Where do you want to start?” I ask. They’re both wide-eyed, and I have a feeling Eden is now a little more receptive to the idea of being on the mountain instead of the beach.
“I want to try snowboarding,” Eden tells us. She points to the wall of what looks like mini surfboards but wider than skis.
“That’s probably a good idea,” Jimmy says. He motions for Eden to go check out the boards, and I follow. I’m here for fashion advice, only. I had planned to stay home and enjoy the quiet, but Eden insisted I come to help her pick out the right outfits.
We’re barely at the snowboard section when a young man approaches us. “Dude, no way. My friends are never going to believe this,” he says in a surfer dude type accent. I already know what’s coming and have long learned to ignore the fangirls and guys who sometimes bombard the guys.
“All right mate?” Jimmy says, shaking his hand and sidestepping that the guy clearly knows who Jimmy is. “We’d like to look at your best snowboards, please.”
“Gnarly. Gonna hit Tahoe, Vail? They have the best pow pow.”
“Pow pow?” Jimmy questions while I snicker. Jimmy loathes guys like this, who speak in slang. Most of the time, he can’t understand the surfers Eden hangs out with and claims it’s because he’s British, although he’s lived in the United States longer than he ever did in England. There have been times when he’s straight-up started talking in a cockney accent just to throw Eden’s friends off.
“Listen, mate. We’re going to Vermont to snowboard. We’ve never done this shit before, so we need you to hook us up with the best.”
“Sick bro. All right, let me show you what we have for you bunnies.”
“Make sure they get helmets,” I blurt out. Eden’s eyes go wide, and I shrug. I tap the top of her head. “Gotta protect the melon.”
“Mum!”
Jimmy laughs.
“Brain buckets are a must.” The salesman snickers. He starts pointing at boards and saying things that I don’t understand. Instead of following them around as they he shows them what they need, I stay near the clothing rack and start looking at snowsuits I think Eden would like. Knowing Jimmy, they’ll each get a couple, so they aren’t wearing the same one repeatedly. I’m sure the same can be said for the others that will be there.
By the time Jimmy and Eden have been outfitted with boards, boots, and brain buckets—as they’re so aptly referred to in the store—they find me deep in the clothing section with a pile of items in my arms.
“You know we’re not moving there, right?” my lovely husband points out.
“I know, but I figured you’d want a couple of different outfit options, plus I couldn’t pass up these flannel blankets.”
“Mum, Vermont is like home to the flannel or something.”
“How do you know this?” I ask her.
She looks away sheepishly before making eye contact. “I may have done some online surfing.” A small smile creeps across my face, and she puts her hand up. “Stop with the smile. I’m still mad but trying not to be a brat.”
I step forward and give her a quick kiss on her forehead. She’s not embarrassed by my affection, especially in public, and I’m very thankful for that. “Thank you,” I tell her. “Now, let’s find you both the right things to wear. I don’t want you freezing out there.”
“Yeah, because I read it can get to be twenty below zero in Vermont, and people still go outside.” Eden shudders. “I don’t get it.”
“Me neither, but we’re going to have a lot of fun,” Jimmy says as he takes the pile of clothing I made for him into the dressing room.
On our way home, we stop at the mall. Always a fun time, said no one ever. When it’s Eden and me, it’s no big deal. But get Jimmy, the self-professed Twitter God, into a mall with middle-aged women who still scream like banshees when they spot him, and it’s a whole other scenario. At the beginning of our marriage, because Jimmy and I skipped the dating part, the fan encounters caused a lot of jealousy issues for me. Mostly because Jimmy was that guy—the one who wouldn’t think twice about going home with a fan or hooking up with someone he met on Twitter or the mall. Even after our marriage became public knowledge, women still came after him. It still bothers me, but I know Jimmy is faithful. He would never do anything to hurt, dishonor, or put me in a position where I question him.
There’s a surf shop in the mall which is our first stop. I find it funny that we even come in here because Eden’s sponsors make sure she has the best of everything. Secretly, I think she likes to look to see if there’s something she wants but won’t outright ask her dad to buy her. Or maybe it’s because the guy working is flirting with her.
“What am I witnessing here?” Jimmy asks.
“Nothing,” I tell him even though I know he knows what’s going on. He’s the biggest flirt to walk the streets of Los Angeles. Everyone, it doesn’t matter who you are, gets a smile. The truly lucky ones get a picture.
“That bloke is manhandling my daughter.”
I glance over to see what he’s fussing about. The kid, who is probably a year or two older than Eden is touching her, but he’s laughing when he does it, so I’m going to assume either she or he has told a joke.
“They’re talking, Jimmy.”
“He’s trying to talk her out of her bloody wet suit.”
I smirk. “Eden’s wearing jeans. Probably easier . . .” I don’t finish my sentence because I know he’ll fly off the handle.
“Not helping, Sweet Lips.”
Reaching for Jimmy’s hand, I tug him behind me, farther away from Eden. “Give her some privacy.”
“She’s a child.”
“She’s almost an adult, Jimmy. You have to let her grow up.”
“I tried,” he points out. “Don’t you remember a few years ago when she wanted to date that bloke from Australia, and he was like eighty?”
“Oh, Jimmy,” I say his name with a sigh. My hand cups his cheek, and I smile. “You’re going to give yourself a heart attack with all this worry. We have to trust Eden to make good choices. That guy from a couple of years ago was just a first crush, and it went nowhere. He was too old for her, but he wasn’t eighty.”
“I know guys like him, trust me.”
His statement causes me to laugh. “Because you used to be like him, that’s why. You probably saw yourself in him, and that’s scary for everyone.” Jimmy growls and places his hand on hip. He squeezes a bit and then starts to tickle me.
“Stop it,” I say through gritted teeth. “We’re in public, and our daughter is right there.”
Jimmy comes closer and says into my ear, “When we get home?—”
“Are you guys ready?” Eden interrupts us, causing Jimmy to pull away. He growls and mutters something unintelligible. I feel bad for him. Sometimes.
“See anything you like?” I ask Eden.
“Nah,” she says with a shake of her head. “Most of this stuff I had last year, and it’s just now hitting the market. Sort of lame.”
Jimmy sets his hand on Eden’s shoulder. She allows his hand to stay, which surprises me. Normally, she has a strict no touching policy in public. “Your sponsors take care of you,” he tells her. “It’s important that you return the favour.”
“By winning?” she questions.
He shakes his head. “Winning isn’t everything, Little One. It’s nice and it’s often expected, but your mum and I want you to be the best you can be. The wins will come, just as they have previously.”
“I know, Dad. I just want to be number one.”
“You’ll get there,” I say with a wink.
We walk into one of the larger department stores and head to their winter section, which is scarce. I feel we’re going to have to buy a lot of stuff online and end up having to ship it to where we are staying.
The salesclerk comes up to us and asks if we need help. I nod and say, “We’re heading to Vermont, and it’s cold there.”
The clerk laughs. “I used to live there. Cold is an understatement. What are you doing there?”
“We’re going to Stowe to snowboard,” Eden chimes in.
“You won’t find much here to help you, but I can give you a list of places that definitely cater to the weather of New England.”
“That would be great,” I tell her.
She motions for me to follow her to the register where she starts writing things down on a pad of paper. She rips it off and hands it to me. There are at least ten websites for us to find what we need.
“Thank you.”
“Burton is the top choice. Best snowboards and gear, pretty much everything you’ll need. North Face too. Even though they’re from California, their colder stuff is in the Northeast. L.L. Bean has amazing flannel jeans. I used to live in them.”
“You’re a lifesaver.”
She smiles. “But I would be remiss if I didn’t show you what we have here. Let’s check out a few of my winter favorites.”
The three of us follow the clerk around the store, once again adding items we may or may not need. If we’re not careful, we’re going to end up taking so much stuff we’ll need a caravan to transport everything.
After we check out, Jimmy runs our purchases to the car and meets us in the food court which isn’t my favorite place, but it’s convenient, fast, and I’m starving. I just hope that once Jimmy sits down, he’ll be able to eat before the fans start clamoring for pictures.
Famous last words.