31
T hey suited up in Conrad’s old ski bibs, looking like puffballs in their oversize padding.
MC tried to offer Nora a beanie, but she refused, opting for a retro fluorescent ear-warmer band.
Their gloves were so big it felt like they were heading out to play hockey.
It worked, overall, once they got outside.
The air was cold and still, and they were warm and snug.
When they started trudging toward the woods, outfits scrunching with every step, MC stole a last look at Nora’s parents’ car in the driveway, the lights on in the kitchen.
“What’s the occasion?” she said, still worried about pushing things too far with Nora, but also freshly curious.
She’d only interacted with Nora’s parents a handful of times.
The encounter was always unplanned—an accidental simultaneity in their departure or arrival times, quick waves across the fence, vague wishes to take care or enjoy the day.
MC’s parents hadn’t been community-oriented people either, and it worked, the unspoken outsider status of the two couples and their wish for privacy in a small town where privacy was viewed with suspicion.
They all had an intensity to them. A drive that wasn’t so much about career or money as their own personal goals.
Maybe Girl Next Door had helped her see it more clearly, but now it seemed obvious to MC—the commonality between the people who’d brought her and Nora into the world, the ways it had shaped them as they grew.
“I sent them an email,” Nora said. They were carrying flashlights but didn’t really need them, the starry night casting a pale glow through the branches laced overhead. “And it freaked them out.”
“What was in the email?”
Nora paused. “I told them I need to move.”
“Out of the house?”
“Yeah. And Green Hills.”
Which stopped MC in her tracks. “To go where?”
Nora kept walking but slowed her pace. “I don’t know yet.”
MC shuffled to catch up with her. “I mean, you won’t go far, will you?”
“Like I said, I’m not sure.”
“Have you told Lois?”
“Yep.”
“And what’d she say?”
“She gets it.”
“But was she upset?”
“I don’t know, MC. If she was, she’ll get over it.”
MC was stunned. “This isn’t about the article, is it?”
Nora laughed. “Of course it is.”
“But the attention’s going to fade eventually. I’m not saying it hasn’t been a massive invasion of privacy, and the protestors are obviously freaky, and I’ll say sorry a million more times if you want me to, it’s just—”
“I’m not blaming you, okay? I’m still pissed about it, so don’t feel like you’re off the hook. But as everyone keeps reminding me, my identity would’ve come out eventually, one way or another. And maybe it’s what I needed to force me to... move on.”
“Move on from what?”
“From this place.”
MC didn’t know how to respond. She was surprised at how devastated she felt by Nora’s news, like they were trading places in some karmic joke, MC stuck back home with all her ghosts, and Nora set free.
“So,” MC muttered, “you told your parents they have to deal with the house.”
“Either they need to find and manage renters or sell it over the next few months.”
“What do you think they’ll choose?”
“Selling it. I said I’d help deal with the logistics before I go.”
“They wouldn’t just hang on to it for a while?”
Nora shook her head. “There’s no reason for them to stay tied to this town.”
MC didn’t know what to do about the caved-in feeling in her chest. “What even made them come here in the first place?”
“The quiet, I think. Or the uneventfulness. They had me when they were still living in the city but decided a kid wasn’t compatible with their lifestyle there.”
“In your book,” MC said, feeling a little flush in her cheeks to mention it out loud, “you said you felt like you were an accident. Or, well, Nicole did.”
“They claimed they conceived me on purpose.” Nora smiled. “I think they just had really different ideas about what parents owed to their children than, say, Gabby’s parents.”
“My parents weren’t too comfortable in the role either.”
“But they were there.”
“I’m not saying it’s like what you experienced. Just that it was weird to have everyone in their proper places or whatever, but emotionally... you know.”
“When I was little, I told myself they were superheroes. Or detectives or spies. They had to be out saving the world.”
“What changed?”
“At some point I started to see how relieved they were when I was independent. It could be anything—reading by myself, cooking breakfast. I made it a point to never cry in front of them. And they appreciated it, basically. It’s not like they were even proud. They just wanted to be excused.”
“Why didn’t you rebel? I feel like kids will do anything for their parents’ attention.”
“I was convinced that if I toed the line, they’d just leave forever. I had to be the version of myself they would accept—the version of myself that was totally okay with being alone—in order to not be alone for real.”
“I think I know what you mean.” MC cleared her throat. “How do they feel about your book?”
“Oh, they still have no idea about it.”
“Really?”
“They don’t pay attention to stuff like that.”
MC shook her head. “Crazy.”
They’d reached the edge of the golf course, the glittering expanse of hills untouched. The stars were revealed in all their glory, the Big Dipper so obvious even MC could pick it out. “Well,” she said, “it’s your parents’ loss.”
“What?”
“That they don’t know what a genius you are.”
“Oh god. You and that word.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know you are. Crazy person.” Nora unslung the plastic sled from her back and positioned it at the top of the nearest incline. “By the way, this is kind of sick.”
“Have you never done this before? Me and Con came here all the time.”
“Never.”
“On snow days, after dark, it’d get so packed.”
“As you might’ve noticed, I wasn’t too involved in group activities.”
“I wish I’d invited you sooner.” She hefted her sled and took a few steps back, then sprinted forward, jumping chest-first onto the rough plastic.
The speed was fantastic, just as exciting as she remembered.
Cold wind whipped across her cheeks as she jetted toward the bottom, the sound of Nora’s sled cutting over the powder behind her.
MC whooped as Nora managed to pass her just before they bottomed out.
When their sleds had crunched to a stop, they laughed, then helped each other up.
“It’s even better with the Baileys,” MC said.
She took off her pack and pulled out the thermoses.
When she opened the first one, a puff of sweet steam filled the air between them, the melted marshmallows reduced to a foam on the surface of the hot chocolate.
She handed the cup to Nora, their gloved hands brushing for a moment.
MC’s chest ballooned at the slight contact.
But then she remembered that Nora was already on her way out, going to places unknown, leaving her past—and MC—behind.
No wonder Nora had been more talkative all of a sudden, more open. There were no strings attached anymore. She was probably thrilled.
“I really like the marshmallows,” Nora said.
MC forced a smile. “I seem to remember you going to town on the sweet potato topping at Thanksgiving.”
“That’s what you remember from Thanksgiving?” Nora took a long drink, hiding most of her expression behind the lip of the cup. MC said nothing, afraid to take the bait too eagerly, not sure what Nora was angling for by flirting after what she’d just confessed.
They did a few more rounds on the same hill, then hiked to another one, where they saw other couples who’d had the same idea.
Most of them were busy making out under the trees that dotted the course, but a few were still tearing up the mini slopes.
As MC and Nora walked to a spot that seemed set off enough, they drank to the bottom of their thermoses, the overly sweet booziness giving MC something between a buzz and a headache.
Luckily, the cold air cut through most of the haze, making her feel clearheaded when she asked Nora if they should do a ride together.
“Double the weight, double the speed,” she pointed out, reasonably.
“I think your physics are off.” Nora licked her lips. “But we’ll have to test it to be sure.”
“Do you want to ride front or back?”
“Front.”
At the top of the biggest hill they could see, MC set her sled down, leaving her pack aside. She sat in the back with her legs spread, relieved to be in padding that was about eight inches thick when Nora sat between them, keeping a semi-respectful distance all the same.
“So, what’s your strategy here?” Nora said.
“When my brother and I used to do this, I would be in front, just leaning back basically.” Without hesitating, Nora shimmied closer and nestled herself against MC.
MC tried not to think about the pressure between her legs, the smell of Nora’s shampoo, how fast her pulse was going.
“He would use his heels to get some momentum. Then we’d just tuck in and stay low for the ride. ”
“Okay. Shove off, captain.”
MC dug her boots into the snow and heaved them forward, until the sled tipped over the edge and started to take on a speed of its own.
She pulled her legs in tight against Nora’s sides and gripped the edges of the sled with her gloves, impressed by how fast they were already going.
Her physics were just fine, thank you very much.
Or maybe it was just that this hill was a lot bigger than the others.
Halfway down the slope they were whipping through the snow at a worrying clip, and MC could sense that any disruption in their balance would probably send them flying.
She tightened her legs against Nora, doing her best to keep the back of the flimsy plastic steady as they hit little bumps along the way.
“We’re heading for a tree,” Nora announced.
“Trying to veer us a little left.”
“Maybe if I—”
Before MC could tell Nora not to attempt anything, Nora had stuck her foot out to adjust course. The heel of her boot caught and sent them spinning like a boomerang. Before MC knew it, they were both tumbling out, a tangle of limbs careening through the snow to a sudden stop.
“Ow,” Nora said. She was half on top of MC, their stomachs pressed together, their bodies perpendicular.
“You okay?”
Nora laughed. “That was actually amazing.” She got to her knees and dusted off, hovering a little over MC, who was still sprawled on her back, catching her breath. “How do the stars look?”
“Really nice.”
Nora lay down next to her, close enough that their shoulders touched.
MC didn’t mean to whisper, but when she spoke, her voice sounded small: “I’m so sorry about my stupid article.”
“I know you are.”
“It was wrong.”
Nora sighed. “I’m sorry it took me so long to come clean about the book. I really thought you’d hate me if you ever found out.” She pursed her lips. “Isn’t that weird? To feel compelled to do this thing that’s the opposite of what you actually want to do.”
“Not weird at all.”
“I’ll just have to trust you on that.”
“Do you think you can? Trust me, I mean. After everything.”
“I don’t know.” A breath. “But I want to. Stupidly.”
“It’s kind of relaxing to be stupid. Speaking for myself.”
“I’ll have to try it.” Nora turned onto her side just then, so suddenly it startled MC.
But the look on her face kept MC pinned on her back.
Nora took off a glove and laid her hand on MC’s cheek, bare fingers cold but electric, her face dipping just a little.
And just as MC’s mouth fell open, the heat of Nora’s breath on her lips, Nora said, “Oh my god, what am I doing?” Then drew back, taking her hand away.
She got up and put her glove back on.
“What’s up?” MC said, following Nora’s lead and getting to her feet.
“What’s up?”
“I mean, are you okay?”
“No.” Nora forced a laugh. “Everything’s extremely confusing and messed up right now.”
“Agreed on confusing. But is it so messed up?”
“Of course it is.”
“Why?”
“Because you came out here for months—months!—to analyze me for an article. Without telling me.”
“And you spent months not telling me you’d written a novel about us.”
“Exactly.” Nora stomped off. “We screwed up, and we can’t take it back.”
MC followed. “But I can’t think of a single relationship I’ve ever had, romantic or not, where one or both of us didn’t blow it at some point.”
“Sounds terrible.”
“It’s not. Or it is, sometimes, but not always. I don’t know, it’s just hard.”
“Then maybe I’m weak.”
“I mean, same.” MC took Nora’s hand. “But isn’t that kind of normal?”
Nora stood still, breathing hard, probably from the intensity of the trek. They were back up at the top of the hill, and the Baileys was sloshing in MC’s stomach.
“It’s been really nice,” MC added, surprised by the desperation in her voice, “to talk to you again.”
“Yeah.” Nora gave MC’s hand a squeeze. “It’s been nice to talk to you too.”
“And I’m happy with, you know, just talking.”
Nora nodded. “Walk me home and talk some more?”
MC let out the breath she’d been holding. “Okay.”
Then Nora shook MC’s hand, sealing the deal, and laughed.