Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Aaron
Conversation moves to less serious topics.
She tells me about how things have been going at the ChristmasFest, and I’m happy to hear she hasn’t had any more run-ins with the ladies she terms the “Karen brigade.” I’m also happy to know that she doesn’t seem to consider me to be one of them anymore—both because I still don’t think it’s possible for me to even be a Karen, but also because I don’t want her to see me as someone who’s out to get her.
I’ve never felt that way, though I can see how it came across that way.
It’s not that I had it in for her, per se, I just didn’t think she needed to come in and make so many changes so quickly.
I still feel that way, even if I think the changes she managed to make are largely positive.
And I can admit I was wrong about the potted trees, and okay, yes, I dug in my heels and held a grudge about that because I was already annoyed with her.
Which I think is the same issue that group of women has that she’s been having trouble with.
So maybe I was acting like a Karen.
Gross.
When I set my empty mug on the coffee table, she glances at it, then at me and sighs. “I guess we should probably get going.”
I grin. “I told you, we really don’t have to if you’d rather stay home. I’m happy to sit here and talk with you. And if you don’t feel like making lunch, we could go somewhere instead.”
“No, no,” she says, pushing herself to standing. “I want to go, I do. I just … I also don’t want to move,” she chuckles softly, moving to the chair where I left the snow pants and coat I brought for her. She holds them up. “What about you, though? Are you just going to sled in your jeans?”
Shaking my head, I stand as well. “I left my gear in the car. I was planning on putting it on when we get there, but if it makes you feel better, I can grab it and put it on here.”
“It would make me feel better,” she declares.
“Okay. I’ll be right back.” I close the distance between us, lean down and give her a quick peck, then disappear out the door to grab my snow pants.
When I get back to her door, I knock and let myself in, finding her tucking her sweater down into the hot pink snow pants, her back to me, the nylon stretched tight across her butt.
They look like they might be a tiny bit small on her, but she pulls the straps up over her shoulders and zips the bib with no problem and turns to face me, smiling.
“Whaddaya think?” she asks, hands on her hips.
“You look perfect.”
She laughs like I made a joke, but I’m being serious. Then she swirls the coat around, her arms going in the sleeves as it settles on her shoulders. She zips it all the way up and puts her hands in the pockets, coming out with a pair of black stretchy knit gloves. “Look, I have gloves too!”
Chuckling, I toe off my boots and step into my snow pants. “I think you’ll want your warmer gloves.” Straightening, my snow pants still at my thighs, I narrow my eyes at her. “You do have waterproof gloves, right?”
She nods. “Of course. My parents actually sent me a care package right before Thanksgiving. They said it was because I couldn’t be there, so they wanted me to have a little bit of home.
My mom bought some of those tiny grocery store pies and packaged them up really well, plus a new beanie, gloves, my scarf, and some candy.
” She goes to the wall where she has a row of hooks that her coat, a lighter jacket, and her hat are hanging from.
From the pockets of the light jacket, she pulls a pair of thick, powder blue waterproof gloves that are perfect for being in the snow.
She glances between her white coat, pink snow pants, black boots, and blue gloves and matching hat and grins. “I don’t exactly coordinate.”
“Most people around here don’t. Coordinating is a sign you’re a tourist. You’ll fit right in.”
She laughs. “Or a transplant? If I were buying all new things, I’d buy coordinating snow gear. I guess that means I’ll stand out when I get around to it, won’t it?”
I give her a doubtful look. “It’s less expensive to go to the thrift store and pick out a good coat and snow pants. If you do that, you won’t look so matchy-matchy.”
With a shrug, she steps into her boots, leaning down to tie them, not really responding to my comment. I’ve learned in my dealings with her, that that’s her way of not engaging in an argument she thinks is pointless, not a concession.
Grinning, I finish fastening my own snow pants, then put my coat and boots back on. When I’m finished, she’s decked out with her hat and gloves as well, her scarf peeking out the top of her coat. “Ready?” I ask.
She nods, though it’s a little hard to tell with her coat zipped all the way up and her scarf wrapped around her face. The top of her head moves, though, so I know she’s ready.
I pull open the door and hold it for her, but she gestures me through first. I wait on the sidewalk outside her door while she fiddles with something, finally pulling off one of her gloves so she can lock the handle of her door and pull it closed behind her.
“My keys are in the zippered pocket,” she says patting the pocket on her chest, her voice slightly muffled through her layers.
I lead the way to my truck, opening the door for her before heading around to my side. Once we’re driving, she pulls the scarf down away from her mouth. “Oh my god, I think I’m going to suffocate.”
With a laugh, I turn the heat down. “I promise you’ll warm up once we’re out moving around. I know sledding seems like it’ll be cold, and maybe parts of you will be, but you’ll also be hiking back to the top of the hill. It warms you up.”
She glances at me, horror on her face. “You didn’t say anything about hiking.”
“Did you think you’d just go down once?” I ask, incredulous. “How do you think you get back up? Can you fly, and you didn’t tell me before now?”
Laughing, she shakes her head. “No. I’m kidding. I know. I did go tubing at a ski hill once, though, and they had a tow rope drag you and your tube back to the top. That’s the way to do it, if you ask me.”
“Well, we’re not going anywhere that fancy today. Sorry.”
“That’s alright,” she says lightly, as though I were offering a real apology, and I grin.
“It was really fun, though. I wouldn’t mind doing that again.
” She gives me a meaningful look. “I did know what I was getting into today, though. Don’t worry.
I won’t faint and demand you carry me or drag me back up the hill like a spoiled princess. ”
I grunt, imagining that. It might be kinda fun, under the right circumstances. But it’s true that her being demanding and entitled would ruin the fun. “Glad to hear it.”
My favorite sledding hill isn’t open to the general public—it’s on the back side of the property I grew up on.
I think of it as mine, but the truth is, it still belongs to Mom.
When she passes, I’ll have to buy out my siblings in order to keep it.
Unless they want to consider their shares of the property an investment into the business, then I’ll have to pay them a percentage of the profits.
Right now I split the profits with Mom because we both work for the business, so it makes sense.
It’s sixty-forty in her favor since she owns the property and I live in the big house.
I take the driveway that goes past the barn, and we bump along over the ruts and hills in the snow, away past where the customers can cut trees.
Jenna looks out her window, craning her head as we pass the barn then the customer parking, continuing on the track through the trees.
We stop when the truck can’t go any farther.
She looks at me for a second, amusement stamped on her face, but she doesn’t say anything, popping her door open and hopping out before I can even exit my side, much less get around to open her door for her.
When I hop down and go around to the back of my pickup, she’s standing to the side, tugging her hat down, and looking all around. “I see why you like this place,” she says after a moment.
I pull the tailgate down, sliding the two sleds out from under the hard top cover that keeps the rain and snow out of the bed of my truck.
“It’s all ours,” I say, handing her the neon green sled and shouldering the blue one.
“We just hike up here, then we sled down the slope. It’ll take a few times to carve the run into the fresh snow.
” It snowed over the weekend, and I haven’t been out here with Colin again since then.
With a firm nod, she sets off. In the wrong direction.
“Whoa!” I call, jerking my head to the left. “Over here.”
“Right.” She grins. “It’s hard to tell.”
Laughing, I step in front of her so I can lead the way. “If you walk in my footprints, it’ll be easier.” The snow’s nearly to the top of my boots back here, which makes blazing the trail a little slow.
Soon enough, though, we’re at the top of the slope. It doesn’t look terribly steep from up here, especially with the fresh snow, but it’s steep enough to get a good amount of speed going once there’s a sledding trail laid down.
“Do you want to go first?” I ask. “Or do you want me to?”
She looks at me, and I think her eyebrows are raised, but with her hat pulled low, it’s hard to tell. She’s cute all bundled up like this. After a glance down the hill, she shrugs and pulls her sled in front of her before climbing on. “Am I in the right spot?” she asks, and I grin.
“Yeah.”
“Gimme a push?” She rocks her body so the sled scootches forward an inch or two each time.
“Gotcha.” I stick my sled nose-up in the snow, then lean down and grip the back of her sled. “Ready?”
“Ready!”
I pull back her sled a few inches then shove it forward as hard as I can, nearly laying myself full out in the snow in the process.
She goes forward at a decent pace to start with, but the snow’s resistance quickly slows her down until she stops, gravity only managing to pull her about halfway down the hill. “Boo,” she says. “I know you said it’d take a few times for a good trail, but that was just sad.”
Laughing, I pull my sled out and lay it down where she started. “I promise, it’ll get better as we go. We’ll take turns, and after a few times, we’ll get a good run going.”
As she climbs out of her sled, she turns to face me, hands on her hips. “What happened to the guy with the meticulously planned truck picnic? You couldn’t’ve come out and carved the sled trail ahead of time?”
“Nah,” I call, waiting patiently for her to pick up her sled and drag it back to the top. “Half the fun is making the trail in the first place.”
“Suuuure. Keep telling yourself that.” She grabs her sled and starts her way back up the hill next to the beginnings of our sled trail. “You wanna push too?”
“Sure.” I could get myself started, of course, but if she wants to push me, who’m I to object?
She clambers the rest of the way up the slope, drops her sled off to the side, and settles herself behind me. Her hands rest on my back, and she brings her face close to mine. “Ready?” she asks, the question almost breathless.
It makes my own breath come short, the memory of her taste and feel fresh in my mind. Something to look forward to later, if her comments are anything to go by. “Ready,” I confirm, my voice deep, and I’m ready for a lot more than just sledding.
She counts me off. “One, two, three!” On three she gives me a big shove, but it doesn’t do much to get me going. I move about a foot, at most.
Laughing, she stumbles up behind me again. “Sorry. Let me try that again.” This time, she takes my tactic and grabs the bottom of the sled. And this time, I help. On her count, I stick my fists into the snow next to me and help her push me off.
My luck isn’t much better than hers, though I do add a few more feet to our run. “I’ll come back up and push you. Pretty soon we’ll get a good run. I promise.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that,” she calls.
“What’re you gonna do to me if I can’t make good?” I ask, partly playful, partly curious.
“You’ll just have to wait and see,” she taunts as I bound back up the hill.
“That sounds more like you haven’t figured it out yet.”
She throws her hands in the air. “Fine, you caught me. I haven’t. But I promise, I’ll make sure you regret it if we don’t get a good sled run in.”
“Ooooh, I’m shaking in my boots.”
“Uh-huh. Gimme a push. Let’s see if this time’s better than the last.”
When she climbs in, I lean down and kiss the sliver of skin showing on her cheek. She turns her head and kisses me back, full on the mouth. When I pull back, we’re both breathing hard, the steam of our breath surrounding us. “Ready?” I ask quietly.
“Yes,” she breathes. “Ready.” And something about the way she holds my eyes as she says it lets me know that she means more than just sledding too.