20. CHAPTER 20
Jeremy
The three-story ski cabin has always been a hub of friends and family memories, and the chatter now with a group of eighteen brings it to life again. Whether Mom had hidden motives this time or not, most of us enjoy skiing. Our family’s love for the outdoors and the sport had Dad buying this small ski resort that provides no public housing accommodations, just a lodge that sells merch, rents ski gear, and offers hot food and drinks.
We’re still sitting around the table after the dinner and dishes are cleared. Even Sonya and her folks and three of Mom’s friends with their daughters remain. Pity their sons couldn’t join—seems they’ve got better things to do than hang around being micromanaged by their moms. In this miniature society, the men, much like my dad, bring in the dough, but the women command the home.
I’ve claimed a place at the end of the long table with my dad, brother, and Aunt Patty. She’s making us laugh as she talks about my cousin, Trent’s latest adventures with the tractor shows he hosts on the farm. “He’ll be here on Thursday if he can find someone to watch his unruly dog.”
“I haven’t seen him in ages.” I muse aloud. Our last squabble—something trivial about Mom—flits through my mind. Trent always had a rebellious streak, opting for starting a band after high school. That didn’t pan out, but teaching music in their small Oklahoma town makes him happy.
“What do you mean Trent is coming?” Mom’s voice pulls me back as she peers past the trio separating her from her sister. Mom’s always alert, taking in everyone’s conversation if she’s not too busy directing the conversation.
“He knows how you like a definite answer, and he wasn’t sure.” Aunt Patty lifts her Diet Pepsi, her preference over the wineglasses most women her age have in front of them. “But he wants to be here for his cousin’s wedding.”
“Not when he didn’t respond to the invitation.” Mom speaks over the people next to her. “Where’s he going to stay?”
“There’s still three vacant rooms he can stay in.” When Dad soothes things over, Mom’s glare has his shoulders drooping. Clearing his throat, he turns his gaze back to Aunt Patty. “Sara knows what’s best, of course.”
I grit my teeth over how my father always has to play along with Mom’s plans. For this, I’m grateful Sonya ended things with me. I wouldn’t want to be in Dad’s position where my opinions don’t count in my own home.
“He can stay at my house.” Gavin raises his hand, clearly eager to put an end to this dilemma.
My gaze drifts past the two people separating me from Zuri. She and Hope are deep in conversation. Hope leans her head back and laughs at whatever Zuri is telling her, her laugh exuberant, her emotions seeming so much larger than she is, and my chest expands seeing Zuri relaxed. Her articulate hands speak along with her, her curls shake around her full cheeks, and her eyes shine. What’s she talking about? Is it her mishaps on the slopes?
I’d opted out of skiing today so Zuri could have her first lessons on the slope with less terrain. She preferred to go with a trainer, afraid to disappoint me in case she didn’t grasp skiing. I’m still impressed by how fast she embraced the slopes. My only frustration earlier was Sonya constantly appearing at my side and reminiscing about our past.
As people start leaving the table, I look forward to hanging out with Zuri for whatever time we can get before bed, but she and Hope move off to help the workers tidy up the kitchen. Some people scatter off to the main room. Others linger by the fireplace seating area with the mountain view. Sonya and Gavin’s ex, Lucky, remain by the kitchen table, their laughter loud as they chat with the other women their age. Gavin and I join our girls in the kitchen, rinsing plates, loading the dishwasher, and sweeping with the workers.
“I’m sorry. Did I miss a spot with the mop?” The woman’s heavy Hispanic accent obscures her words, but the concern knitting her brow as she scans the crumbs I”m sweeping from the already mopped floor—makes her meaning clear.
I stop to smile at her. “You’ve done a fantastic job.”
Zuri, unable to hold back her amusement, playfully tosses a kitchen towel my way. “Leave it to Mr. Detail, and we’ll be here all night.”
“I just love cleaning,” I assure the woman. Truth is, seeing any remnants on what’s supposed to be a clean surface bothers me.
After cleanup, Dad asks us to join him for a round of pool in the game room. So, while Gavin and Hope play shuffleboard, I play pool with Dad, and Zuri watches, cheering for my dad when she realizes he’s losing.
“Traitor!” I whisper in her ear as I chalk my stick.
She covers her mouth, but she can’t stifle her chuckle. It blends with the hum as a dozen of us engage in various table games.
“At least someone’s on my side.” Dad nods at Zuri, his gray-streaked hair fluttering with the movement.
I win and reassemble the balls in the triangle.
“I think I have a chance of beating Gavin,” Dad says.
“I’ll beat Jeremy for you.” Zuri rests her hand on my back, and her eyes sparkle beneath the recessed lights. “As long as we play Ping-Pong.”
With Gavin stepping in to challenge my dad at pool, Zuri and I pivot to the Ping-Pong table. Her confidence with the paddle and her precise shots catch me unexpectedly.
“Forehand smash!” she exclaims over the murmur and the thwack of balls hitting each other on the tables. Her paddle slices through the air, and the ball zips past me. I scramble to counter, but she’s in her element.
“Spin shot,” she calls out next, her wrist flicking in a way that makes the ball dance unpredictably on my side of the table. Each term she uses, each move she makes, is a revelation.
“I’m going to assume you play this every week?” I lob the ball back into play, impressed yet strategizing my next move.
“Not exactly.” Her paddle circumvents the ball effortlessly, and her mouth quirks. “But Damien taught me how—and don’t you dare ask him for lessons so you can beat me.”
“Hmm. He’s joining us golfing one weekend later this month, perhaps we’ll opt for Ping-Pong instead. I have a game room with a Ping-Pong table at the penthouse, and you can join us if you let me win today.”
But she doesn’t let me win. Despite my defeat, pride swells my chest as I draw her close for a hug, congratulating her on her victory. This moment between us is meant to be genuine, but sensing someone’s gaze, I turn. Sure enough, Mom and friends in the lounges by the bumper pool are gawking and perhaps talking. For their benefit, I lean down and plant a kiss atop Zuri’s hair. Her scent makes me dizzy with longing, the kind I hadn’t thought I still had until she came into my life.
Pretend or not, Zuri and I belong together. That’s becoming more clear with each passing day.
“Ready for shuffleboard?” I nod toward the previous players vacating the table.
“Never played it before.” She clasps my hand and swings ours between us. “But if I learned to ski, I can handle a table game.”
“I don’t underestimate you, for sure.” I weave us through the crowd, her warm hand in mine a steady anchor. My gaze drifts, landing on Sonya, who’s watching from the window where she stands with Lucky.
I shiver. She’s not down here to play any of these games. She has other plans that shouldn’t involve me, but they do. She’s somehow a part of my life, both a friend of the family and responsible for my dented heart. Now, she’s dragging me along in this twisted game I have no control over, but maybe I should be grateful. If it weren’t for her breaking my heart, I wouldn’t be here with Zuri now.
Shuffleboard turns out to be a great diversion as I explain the rules and techniques to Zuri.
She’s a quick learner, willing to try everything. We tease each other, laughing as we play. I take it easy on her, ensuring the game remains fun rather than competitive—though I still end up winning.
She congratulates me, stifling a yawn, clearly exhausted. The high altitude, especially being in the snow, has a way of taking a toll on anyone. Then she tips her chin to where Dad and Gavin are wrapping up another game. “I’m sure your brother would like to take you up on the pool table too.”
Dad high-fives Gavin. My brother grins.
“Seems your dad lost again.”
“A friendly competition is exactly what the groom needs.” Adrenaline ignites a fire within me. “I’m ready to take him down.”
While Gavin and I are deep in our pool game, Hope and Zuri engage in a fast-paced match of air hockey, their laughter and banter floating over to us. Meanwhile, our conversation drifts to the upcoming bachelor party. I must ensure I make the groom happy. “You still want to play table games on the eve of your wedding?”
“Boating would be legit, but the lakes are still icy here.” Gavin studies his shot, his focus on the game. “Number thirteen ball, right rear corner pocket.”
“I could fly you and the guys to San Diego or San Francisco for a beach day if you want.” Those alternatives might appeal to him.
Gavin chuckles, executes his shot, and sinks the striped orange ball. “Tempting.”
An all-too-familiar laugh overshadows our game. The atmosphere shifts, and Sonya’s perfume invades our space, unwelcome and too familiar. She steps closer to me, with Lucky maintaining a cautious distance behind her. “I see you still haven’t lost your touch with this game.”
Memories of past winters spent at the cabin with our families rush back, but I’m not in the mood to stroll down memory lane. Keeping my response light, I maintain my focus on the table. “I still have some skill left.”
Gavin takes another shot, sending the cue ball spinning toward its target. The number 10 ball ricochets off the far wall, nudges the number 15, and rolls into the middle pocket in front of me. Nice shot. And now, number 15 is in the clear. If he keeps this up, he’ll clean the board, and I won’t get another turn. Still, I assess my future shots in case he misses. I’m in the lead, after all, with only two solid balls left to sink.
Sonya’s challenge breaks through my concentration. “After you and Gavin finish this round, how about you and I go head-to-head?”
Gavin eyes the layout of the remaining balls. Then his gaze flicks between Sonya and me. He smirks, a subtle show of support for my waning lead in our friendly game. “I doubt you’d win, Sonya.”
“You never know.” She raises her chin, making her stance clear.
In a pickle, I scramble for a polite way to decline without creating a scene. “You and Lucky can play after us.”
“I’ll just watch.” Lucky’s voice floats over the rim of her wineglass.
So I need another excuse to avoid the match. Hope and Zuri rejoin us. Perhaps I can use it as my out. “Zuri might want to play again.”
Sonya’s gaze flits between us. “Surely, Zuri can spare you for a few minutes.” Sonya’s always relentless, just like my mom.
“I’m going to call it a night.” Zuri closes the gap between us. She steps on tiptoes and brushes her lips against mine.
I wrap my arms around her, cuddling her soft body, and escalate our simple peck into a gentle kiss. This public display, intended or not to signal to Sonya, becomes a moment of genuine connection between us.
“You’re sure you don’t want to stay?” I murmur against her lips, my heart racing. I’m caught in the warmth of her proximity, but her nod confirms her decision.
“I’ll tag along.” Hope approaches Gavin with an affectionate embrace. “You should stay and play Jeremy again. That skiing took a toll on me.”
As the game with Sonya unfolds, Gavin’s a silent pillar of support. He engages minimally with Lucky, his focus on the game and the dynamics playing out. My strategy against Sonya is simple—and effective.
A quick win hastens her departure from the game table and allows Gavin and me to resume our competition. But I soon regret not calling it a night after playing Sonya because she lingers, her presence an irritating reminder of past entanglements I’d rather forget.
Yet dodging her isn’t an option when she leans in, her voice silkily suggesting, “Would you like to take advantage of the Jacuzzi after?”
Seriously? I grunt. “Headed to bed.”
“How about skiing tomorrow, for old times’ sake?”
My plans are set. “I’m skiing with Zuri.”
I swallow a laugh when Lucky positions herself close to Gavin, barely masking her true intentions. “Ready for the big day?”
“No reason not to be.” He keeps his gaze on the pool table.
Right. It’s not like he thinks Hope will be a no-show like Lucky was. Somehow, I keep the comment to myself.
Gavin is as competitive as I am, but we’re both on the same page as we struggle to concentrate on the game with Sonya and Lucky circling like predators. We just need to finish and call it a night. While the duo keeps laughing at their own jokes, I win one round, and Gavin wins one. We settle for a rematch tomorrow and retreat to the sanctuary of our shared room and its two single beds.
“I should’ve left as soon as Zuri left.” I slide under the covers.
“Lucky for you, Hope knew you’d need backup and asked me to stay.”
I chuckle and clasp my hands behind my head as I stare at the dark ceiling. Our conversation drifts from the day’s plans to our current predicaments. “I’m gonna hit the trail early if you and Hope want to come.”
“Hope’s not a morning person anymore,” Gavin says. “It’s good you’re going early. Otherwise, Sonya seems bent on clinging to you.”
“Doesn’t seem Lucky is ready to let you go either.”
“That’s up to her. I haven’t given her any reason to keep chasing me. The sooner she stops taking Mom’s advice, the sooner she could get herself out there.” Gavin’s bed creaks as he turns over. “Good thing you have Zuri to save you from Sonya’s drama now.”
I smile into the darkness. “Zuri did great in her ski class.” The memory of our kiss lingers. I can almost still smell her sweet mint breath. “I thought when I kissed her in front of Sonya I made things clear I’ve moved on.”
“You kissed Zuri today?”
“Uh-huh!” My lips tingle at the admission. “And I kissed her on the rooftop—in the rain, no less—the day I slipped the ring on her finger, and I just…” Adrenaline surges through my body. Man, that kiss took me by surprise. “I didn’t just slide the ring on her finger and walk away. There were words before that. They just flew out of my mouth and didn’t seem forced or anything.”
My chest tightens from the way Zuri makes me feel. During our silence, I can hear the occasional shuffle of footsteps passing through the hallway.
“When you kissed Zuri today, was it just for show or because you wanted to?”
“It’s both.” How can I explain? “Showing off motivated me to do something I wanted to do.”
“You and Zuri…” Gavin clears his throat. “Bro, I can see you two ending up together. You’re yourself around her.”
I nod, the weight of my next words pressing on my chest, needing release. “How do I break free from this pretend arrangement and transition to the real deal?”
“It’s simple. Communication.” He exhales, long and deep, a contented sound I envy. “My relationship with Hope is stronger because we both trust that God is at the center of it, the foundation. Whenever we pray together, it helps us look at things from God’s perspective.” He talks about the essence of relationships and God’s ability to connect each one to the right person. “All that takes prayer.”
I tell him about Zuri’s faith in God. “She’s told me bits and pieces about prayer. I don’t know if she’d want me if I don’t believe in her faith.”
“Those are all things you two can work out before you take another serious step.”
“That’s if we take another step.” Why would she even want me after meeting Mom?
My heart deflates at the possibility of Zuri not wanting me, so I talk about the impending bachelor party instead. “I’ve booked the Inn on Main for the party. Hope can bring her bridesmaids there if she wants to after they finish with whatever the girls are doing. The Stone siblings who’ll be in town for the wedding also plan to join us for the bachelor party.”
“Looking forward to catching up with the Stone boys I haven’t seen in a while.” Nostalgia leaves husky tones in his voice.
“Logan wasn’t sure he’d be back from Italy by Friday,” I mention, recalling my boss’s plans during his globe-trotting commitments.
In the quiet of our room, amidst the distant laughter from other rooms, I’m glad to have this moment here with my brother once again, planning another bachelor party for him, a real one this time with a bride joining him at the altar afterward. I’m mostly glad he’s not letting his past pain define his current newfound happiness. If he can move on, so can I.