Chapter Six #3
For an instant Janet shut her eyes. There was no need for conjecture.
It had to be Bunny and Reese. Curiosity wouldn’t allow her to not glance up and pretend she hadn’t seen them.
They were both coming down the slope, Bunny dressed in a hot pink outfit that was almost fluorescent.
She was laughing, weaving her way between less experienced skiers.
Her long blonde hair flew out behind her.
Reese followed, swiftly traversing the snow-covered terrain with commanding skill.
One glance at the happy couple was like a knife twisting in Janet’s heart.
“If it hurts, don’t watch,” Gail said, laying her hand gently on Janet’s shoulder.
It was crazy to torture herself, but she couldn’t force herself to look away. “No, I want to see what kind of skier Bunny
is.”
With Gail at her side, Janet stood apart from the crowd and waited until Reese and Bunny had gotten back on the chair lift.
It was easy to follow their progress with Bunny’s bright pink outfit lighting the way. Finally, they were out of sight. She
didn’t know how long it would take before they came down the slope, but Janet was prepared to wait.
A long time later Janet recognized the couple weaving their way down the slope. She swallowed tightly. Bunny was fantastic,
absolutely fearless as she agilely manipulated her body over the moguls, snow spitting out from beside her.
“Come on.” Gail tugged at her arm. “You’ve seen enough. Besides, I’m getting cold.”
Tossing one last envious glance over her shoulder, Janet continued toward the Village Inn. Wasn’t it enough that Bunny had
Reese? It was unfair that she was a gifted skier besides. Janet paused and looked to the bright, blue skies, almost angry
with God. There didn’t seem to be any justice left in the world.
A half hour later, sitting around a large table drinking hot cocoa with several others from Dyna-Flow, the pain of seeing
Reese and Bunny began to ease.
Dressed in a ski cap and gray cable-knit sweater, Samuel Edwards joined the group.
“There’s my best girl.” He sat beside Janet, who scooted to make room for the older man in the upholstered booth.
“You’re looking mighty pretty these days,” he chided, squeezing her hand.
There seemed to be a murmur of agreement from the others sharing the booth.
“Thank you, Mr. Edwards.”
“None of that formal stuff here. We’ll save that for the office. You call me Sam, like everyone else.”
A smile hovered over her lips. Calling the elder Mr. Edwards by his first name was as unnatural as referring to the U.S. president
as Ronnie, instead of President Reagan. “If you insist.”
“I do, my dear.”
Gradually the group dwindled down until there was only Gail, Janet and Sam Edwards. “It looks like everyone is having a good
time.”
“We are, it’s marvelous,” Janet confirmed.
“Excuse me a minute. I’ll be right back.” Gail slid out of the seat and headed toward the ladies’ room.
Janet’s gaze followed her friend; she felt slightly uneasy sitting alone with Reese’s father. Her gaze centered on the mug
of chocolate she was cupping with her hands. At the sound of an angry snort Janet looked up. Reese and Bunny had come inside.
Apparently they chose to ignore Janet and Reese’s father and chose a booth on the other side of the room.
“What’s wrong with that son of mine?” Samuel Edwards murmured, his head tilting in the direction of his son across the room.
“What is it he sees in these blondes? Dating one after the other. I should be a grandfather several times over by now and
all Reese cares about is . . .” He let the rest of what he was going to say fade away.
Bunny and Reese were sitting beside one another. Reese’s arm was casually draped over Bunny’s shoulders while they stared
lovingly into one another’s eyes.
Janet unconsciously bit into her bottom lip to prevent a rush of pain from slipping out.
When Reese lowered his head and gently placed his lips over Bunny’s, Janet thought she would die.
Unable to watch, she jerked her face around and closed her eyes until the searing pain passed.
When she looked up again, Samuel Edwards was studying her closely.
She couldn’t bear it, not for another moment.
“Please . . .” She slid from the booth. “I must leave.” Her knees were shaking as she hurried out the door.
“Where are you going?” Gail ran after her.
Janet looked around her wildly. “Skiing. We’re here to ski, aren’t we?”
“Yes . . . but—”
“That’s the problem with my whole life.” Tears welled in the depth of her eyes, threatening to spill. “I live in a nice, packaged
little box, I never let loose.”
“Janet”—Gail said her name thoughtfully—“What happened? Why are you crying?”
“I’m not,” she protested. “It’s the cold. My eyes always water when it’s this chilly.”
“What are you doing?” Gail demanded when Janet snapped her boots into the skies. “You’ve already been skiing; you’re exhausted.”
“I’m not, I’m invigorated. I’m going to allow a little adventure into my life. I’m . . . I’m going to ski Priest Creek.”
“Priest Creek?” Gail repeated with an astonished gasp. “You’re crazy! That’s an advanced course, one of the most difficult.
You’ll be killed up there.”
“Listen, friend, I’m a lot better skier than you realize,” Janet insisted. “I was sticking around the easier slopes so you
wouldn’t be alone. I’m headed for the big time now.”
“Janet, you can’t.” There was a frantic edge to Gail’s voice.
“Just watch me,” Janet shouted and without a backward glance she headed for the Priest Creek chair lift.
The double chair extended almost two thousand feet vertically. Janet sat, her hand desperately clenching the metal frame.
A tear spilled down her face and she furiously wiped it aside. She may not be another Jean-Claude Killy, but it wasn’t from
lack of trying.
As the chair progressed up the mountain, Janet watched the skiers slice their way through the snow far below. This was the
intermediate course and already she could see it was far beyond her skill. She held her breath. If this was the intermediate
slope, what would the advanced be like? More unsettling was the thought that there was only one way down.
It wasn’t crowded at the top, not like it had been in the other areas. Janet paused, looking down the slope. It was steep,
steeper than she had ever imagined. This wasn’t the type of course where she could progress slowly downward. She would need
to twist and curve her way. She stopped and looked over the slope again. It was a long way to the bottom, a very long way.