Chapter 20
20
"I can’t believe this place." Frankie marveled as she and Joe walked along the snowy banks of the sled run area, her eyes taking in the festive scene.
The small concession area glowed with twinkling lights, wreaths, and garlands, filling the air with the warm aroma of hot cocoa and fresh snacks. Sleds were stacked nearby, and colorful flags fluttered, marking the different runs. A conveyor-style lift whisked sledders effortlessly back to the top of the hill, adding a touch of modern convenience to the nostalgic fun.
She giggled, "I remember when it was just one packed-down run, and everyone had to take turns going one at a time. And then, we had to climb the hill for another round!"
Joe smirked, clearly pleased with her reaction. "It’s come a long way. One of our most popular attractions."
"You say that about everything," she teased, nudging him playfully. "I think it's just this place that's popular. Do you come up here often?"
"Daily," he admitted, glancing over at the bustling sled run. "We haven’t made the concession stand wildlife-proof yet, so I can’t store anything up here."
Frankie raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. "Yet? You’ve got plans, don’t you?"
Joe grinned. "Of course. I’ve got plans for another rebuild in the off-season. The squirrels won’t win this time."
"Squirrels, huh? Big hot cocoa fans?"
"Big everything, fans," Joe chuckled. "I’ve managed to make it bear-proof and everything else-proof, but those squirrels…"
Frankie laughed at the idea. "Who’d have thought the biggest competition you’d face would be squirrels?"
Joe shook his head, laughing with her. "Right? The squirrels run these mountains."
"I like that sound," Frankie said softly.
"What sound?" Joe looked at her curiously.
"You laughing. You’re having fun again. Like you used to."
Joe’s smile softened. "I guess you bring that out in me. All of you do. Having everyone back..."
"Like old times?" Frankie prompted, searching his face.
"Yeah. Something like that."
Frankie’s brow furrowed as she glanced at him. "Is that why you keep leaving?"
Joe blinked, taken aback. "Leaving?"
"Every time we sit down together, you find an excuse to leave," she pointed out. "Usually right after someone says..."
"Like old times," Joe finished for her, his tone thoughtful.
"So it is that."
"I didn’t think it was that obvious."
"Maybe not to the others, but I know you too well to miss it," Frankie said, her voice gentle.
Joe sighed. "I suppose you do. I’m not mad or even annoyed by it. I’m more..."
"Sad?" Frankie guessed. "Because this is the last Christmas that will feel like old times?"
Joe nodded, looking ahead. "Exactly. I feel like I’m taking that away from everyone by selling but at the same time..."
"You lose something by staying."
Joe stopped walking and faced her. "Am I wrong to think that? To take all of this away because I want more? Because I want to have what everyone else has?"
"Not at all," Frankie replied firmly.
Joe ran a hand through his hair, his breath visible in the chilly air. "I chose to take this on. I’m the oldest. It’s my duty."
Frankie shook her head. "Your family built this place to bring you joy, and that’s what you’re missing, Joe. Your joy."
Joe chuckled softly. "Ah, so that’s your plan. To restore my joy?"
"You caught me," Frankie grinned, nudging him again.
Joe smiled, though it was tinged with something bittersweet. "I don’t know. Maybe you’re on to something. I love it here, but it’s just not the same anymore."
"Because it’s just you. Who are you doing all of this for anymore?"
Joe’s eyes darkened with emotion. "With my granddad gone... I don’t know. Abe sticks around for me. He should be able to retire."
"If Abe really wanted to retire, he would," Frankie pointed out. "He genuinely cares about you, King boys, and this place."
"He does. So, I guess it’s just me. I’m the reason."
"And there’s nothing to feel guilty about if that’s the case. Unless there’s something else..." Frankie trailed off, her eyes searching his.
They stopped by a stack of sleds, and Joe sighed. "There’s nothing else. That’s sort of the point."
Frankie tilted her head, eyeing the sleds. "So, we rode the conveyor up. How do we get down?"
Joe smirked. "You’ve got two feet."
"Or..." Frankie’s eyes lit up mischievously. She grabbed a sled and flashed a grin. "Race you down."
Without waiting for an answer, she sprinted toward the nearest sled run.
"What? Oh no, you don’t!" Joe laughed, grabbing a sled of his own. He scooped up a pile of snow, forming a snowball, and hurled it at Frankie, hitting her square in the back.
She spun around, eyes wide. "Joe King, you’re going to pay for that."
Joe used his sled as a shield and chased after her while Frankie threw snowballs in retaliation. They both raced toward the head of the sled run, laughing and trying to trip each other. When they finally reached the top, they flung themselves onto their sleds and launched down the hill side by side, still tossing snowballs as they raced to the bottom.
When Frankie reached the end of the run, she tumbled out of her sled, landing flat on her back in the snow. She lay there motionless for a moment, staring up at the sky as snowflakes gently drifted down, her breath visible in the crisp air.
Joe skidded to a stop nearby and rushed to her side, his eyes filled with concern. "Frankie. Are you okay? What hurts?"
Frankie lay still, staring up at the sky framed by the treetops. "Nothing. Nothing hurts. It’s like... they reach all the way to the sky. I forgot about this."
Joe glanced up, confused, then back at her. "What are we talking about? Did you hit your head?"
Frankie giggled and tugged him down next to her. She pointed upward. "The trees, Joe. From here, it looks like they go on forever."
Joe lay beside her, staring up at the sky.
"Remember when we used to watch the clouds during the day and the stars at night like this?" she asked.
Joe smiled. "I do. We couldn’t tell if it was the clouds moving or us."
"We’d find shapes in the clouds that Chris would make up stories about."
"Or make wishes on the shooting stars. There were plenty of those." He added.
"Did any of your wishes come true?" Frankie asked softly.
"Not all of them," Joe admitted, his gaze lingering on her.
Frankie turned to look at him, her curiosity piqued. "Which ones didn’t come true?"
Joe paused, his expression unreadable. "Can’t tell a wish, or it’ll never come true."
Frankie giggled. "Fine. Snow angels?"
With a laugh, she started making a snow angel. Joe shook his head, joining her. "Snow angels? What are you, reliving your old youthful glory days?"
"What if I am?" Frankie teased. "Times were simpler then. Oddly, everything made more sense."
“You aren’t wrong about that. Everything was different then.”
Joe stood up first, pulling Frankie to her feet, but he tugged too hard, and she stumbled into his arms. Instead of pulling away, she rested her head on his shoulder, facing their snow angels.
She giggled, looking at Joe's angel. "Your angel looks like she has a bum arm and leg — it’s lopsided.”
Joe chuckled, shaking his head. “Just like old times.”