Chapter Thirteen #3
Before Tasha could finish the thought, Imani was flying. Despite the breathtaking height she reached, the jump was so straightforward that Tasha could tell that Imani was working up her nerve. Testing the ramp. Tasha fought not to cover her eyes, and Imani landed in a perfect skid. Sharise cheered.
“Great jump, Imani!” Johnny called.
With Imani safely racing down the remainder of the trail, and Sharise following at a more careful pace, Tasha allowed herself to marvel at the sight of her two daughters exploring this sport.
She could hardly believe they had only been snowboarding for two years—especially Imani.
Should they invest in more proper lessons? Could Imani have a future in the sport?
Johnny usually was the one who urged Tasha to relax when they watched Sharise and Imani on their snowboards, but he looked distracted. Agitated. “So,” he began, rocking back on his heels, “guess how many gas cans were in the back?”
Tasha took a second to remember the gas station, which felt days behind them. “Didn’t you buy three?”
“Yep,” he said. “But there’s only one now.”
Tasha kept her eyes on her daughters weaving down the slope, but she watched Johnny’s flexed jaw out of the corner of her eye. “So that means…?”
“Imani forgot to pack two of them. We didn’t check after her.”
“Shit,” Tasha said. Imani got annoyed if they supervised her, but it was risky not to.
“Yeah—shit.”
Imani raced to the end of the run and deftly avoided the trees as she circled back to meet Sharise.
Tasha couldn’t exhale until she saw Sharise do the same, although Sharise nearly fell as she came to a stop.
Imani steadied her sister. Only then did Tasha stop waiting to exhale.
She probably wouldn’t be able to watch them go down again.
“How bad did we need that gas?” Tasha said.
“If the power stays on, we won’t need it at all,” Johnny said. “But if it goes out, we don’t know how much gas is already in there. Should I drive back?”
Thirty minutes there, thirty minutes back. It wouldn’t be as bad a drive if the snow didn’t start up again, but he might end up driving in fading daylight and a new snowfall from the bloated clouds. “Gets dark early now,” she said. “I don’t like that drive back so late. Do you?”
Johnny shook his head. “Nope.”
She reached into his pocket to squeeze his fingers and share the warmth. “Then don’t. Electricity’s working fine.”
Distantly, they heard Imani and Sharise celebrating their first time down the slope. As an only child, Tasha sometimes envied their bond, and she knew Johnny did too. But they would be there for each other long after she and Johnny were gone. Another advantage they had given their daughters.
Tasha rested her head against Johnny’s soft upper arm, avoiding his jutting shoulder.
“What happened here, Johnny?” she finally said.
“I decided it was time to fix it up.”
“I mean when you were a kid.”
Johnny’s arm went rigid, an urge to pull away. Instead, he relaxed. Sighed in a fog.
“Not now—later,” he said. Then his voice became less clipped: “Babe, I just…”
Johnny stopped mid-sentence, his head whipping right.
Toward the house. When Tasha started to ask what he was looking for, he held up his hand to silence her in a way that grated on her nerves like little else.
But instinct made her draw closer. She followed his stare and saw only thick tree trunks buried in snowdrifts climbing up the bark.
Much more snow had collected behind the house than in the front yard, perhaps shoveled there by the caretaker.
Johnny relaxed after a few breaths, slipping his arm around her waist. “Thought I heard something. Sorry.” He might have been apologizing for the hushing gesture, or for being skittish.
Or for the secrets he had not yet revealed.
Johnny’s breath leaked from his lips in quick vapor clouds now. His breathing was elevated.
Johnny had been shaky since the road, but now his face was carved with the same trapped expression he’d worn the night she told him she was pregnant, the instant before he remembered to smile.
Was he dreading revealing her pregnancy to Sharise and Imani this much?
Pain cinched Tasha’s chest. She needed Johnny’s joy to help fuel hers. Their baby deserved joy.
Later, Tasha Washington would wonder why she hadn’t pressed Johnny about what sound he thought he’d heard behind his grandmother’s lodge.
Or why she never seized that moment to volunteer that she’d heard a strange noise inside too, and then under the porch steps.
Why hadn’t she told him how the wall trembled ever so slightly beneath her touch?
Her future self would cut off an arm to tell him, if she could have a second chance.
Her future self would never forgive her. Or Johnny.
Maybe she could blame her silence on Johnny’s uneasiness about the abandoned Jeep outside the fence, and her worry that Imani and Sharise were right: Johnny was ready to leave Bear Creek Lodge at the first excuse.
Like Johnny, Tasha only stared at their daughters playing in the stunning wintry tableau.
Their private fears stole their words.