Chapter 48 Jett
JETT
“You ready?” Dan asks, his voice raised so I can hear him over the cheering of the crowd below, the blaring music from the loudspeakers, and the crackly voice of the announcer reading off the last skier’s score.
I nod, checking my skis one last time before dropping them onto the snow and clicking in my bindings. They’re my old skis I used to use when I was fresh out of high school, with nothing better to do with my time than hit the slopes.
That was back when I was not only a cocky little shit, but I was reckless, too. I’d ride until the beginning of summer, even when the melting snow started revealing rocks and twigs.
It took Dan a long time to buff these skis down, get all the chips out of the bottom and wax them to a point where I wouldn’t kill myself. Jury’s still out if I can win the cup on them. But I’m here, I’m amped up, and I feel a kind of freedom I haven’t had in a long fucking time.
I told Poppy how I feel. Well, I told the reporter, and my interview was streaming live on sports channels around the world. But I don’t even care if she heard. I said it, and the next time I see her, I’ll say it to her face.
Her gorgeous, irresistibly cute, face.
I love my wife, and I want the whole world to know it.
Talking to her last night on the phone, hearing her voice, making her laugh, it’s become my new favourite feeling. I love the adrenaline of skiing, but I love the steadfast, quiet comfort of her more. I love that she gives me space to be myself. I never have to prove anything with her.
But I want to.
She motivates me, makes me want to be a better man, the man she deserves.
I want to win this cup for her, and then I want to win her heart every other day of my life.
“What’s the game plan here, Coach?” I ask Dan as I make my way to the starting line. Being at the World Cup and all, I expected Dan to have more opinions on how I approach this jump, but today, he just throws his hands in the air.
“Up to you,” he says. “This is your big day.” He starts to walk away to the viewing platform where he can see my run at a better vantage point, but he turns before he’s out of earshot. “Whatever you do Jett, full send or nothin’.”
“Full send,” I repeat. And I know exactly what I’m going to do. I just know that it isn’t going to land the same when I get to the bottom and she isn’t there with me. Because of that, my head is all over the place.
To make matters worse, my knee has started acting up in the last few days, and nothing I’ve been doing in training has been helping. It twinges as I bounce on it a couple times, warming it up before I take off down the hill.
Get your head on straight, I think. But no matter what I do as I peer down the hill and assess the slope, the speed I’ll have to get for the jump, and the trick I want to do, I can’t think of anything but her.
The announcer’s voice booms over the speakers, the fuzzy noise barely allowing me to make out the words, but I hear my name as he announces my run.
“It appears Jett Landry is already causing quite the stir at the bottom of the hill, and he hasn’t even finished his run yet.”
“You’d think with all the recent press, he’d be wanting to stay under the radar.”
I squint to try and see all the way down to the bottom, but it’s too far away. My hand is on my goggles, ready to snap them into place on my face, but before I do, my gaze catches on the big screen off to the side of the run at the bottom. Even though it’s small from here, I can see it clearly.
A set of big brown eyes, plush pink lips, and dark wavy hair. My heart skips a beat.
She’s here.
“Jett’s wife is in the crowd today to watch him compete.”
“Ex-wife.”
“Ah, that’s right. Do you think they’re still trying to keep up appearances?”
“Whatever she’s doing here, she’s either a very good actress or she really does love him.”
“I kind of want to marry Jett, after that moving speech he made on live television.”
Poppy is beaming, smiling ear to ear, and the camera follows her as security lets her in through the fence, into the area that is sectioned off for skiers and their teams at the bottom.
She’s wearing that powder-blue snowsuit, fuzzy white boots, and earmuffs to match.
Before Poppy arrived, I had no one waiting for me.
And now? I have the only person I will ever need.
“Can you see what she’s carrying?”
“It looks like…”
“Is that a cat?”
Now, I can’t contain my smile as the camera zooms out and I get a clear view of Cordelia, bundled up in what looks like one of Poppy’s hand-knit sweaters. Poppy picks up Cordelia’s paw and waves it at the camera, and I can’t help but laugh at how unimpressed Cordelia looks.
God, I fucking love them. I love Poppy, and I’m going to tell her the second I get to the bottom of the hill.
I’m going to tell my wife I love her.
And I’m going to kiss her like she’s the only prize I ever care about winning.
“Alright, let’s see what kind of show Jett puts on for his girl.”
“This just got interesting, if it wasn’t already.”
“Jett is making all kinds of headlines today.”
The buzzer sounds, now that the commotion has died down, and I push off, heading toward the one and only jump of the run.
One shot to make this count, and I suddenly have a newfound motivation to give it all I’ve got. I know what I’m going to do, how I’m going to win this thing.
I can tell my skis are sticking, not gliding as smooth as the Nuclear ones I’ve become accustomed to this season, and the ski jacket I pulled out of my closet is bulky. So even if I know how to do the trick, whether my equipment—and my knee—will let me, is another question.
Nearing the jump now, I let out an exhale to focus my mind, to drop into the calm mental state that allows me to let my training take over.
At the last moment, before the earth scoops me upward, I twist my skis around in the snow and look over my shoulder, aiming myself at the jump backwards.
“He’s going in switch…”
The ground drops out from under me and cross my skis as I complete the first turn.
“There it is, he’s doing one, two, three…”
On the second and third turn I tuck my legs to grab the back end of one ski, and now I can’t see anything. I just have Dan’s voice in my head. Full send or nothin’.
“And he lands a beautiful triple misty!”
“Did he just manage to pull it off … backwards?”
“Yes, he did, and that might just win him the Cup.”
The second my skis hit the snow, I hear the roar of the crowd floating up on the wind and carrying me down to the bottom of the hill. I whizz past the blue line on the snow, under the big red blow-up arch, and throw my poles in the air. I lift a ski off the ground while I pump my fist.
I fucking did it.
I landed a record-breaking jump, and I know based on the volume of the cheering that my score is going to beat out anyone else who competes today.
But I don’t look back for my numbers on the screen, because my eyes are scanning the small crowd on this side of the fence for Poppy.
And there she is. Cradling Cordelia in her arms, her smile big and wide and just for me.
Our eyes lock on each other, and it seems as if the rest of the world fades away, becomes blurry, and there’s a moment of peaceful calm and silence as Poppy and I look at each other, taking each other in.
I quickly get out of my ski bindings, and we’re running towards each other, closing the distance that the rest of the world somehow wedged between us. Overcoming every obstacle that’s been thrown our way—public opinion, personal hangups, logistical barriers. Now, it’s just her and I.
Husband and wife.
Poppy and I meet, and some part of me is aware that all the cameras are on us as I wrap my arms around her waist, Cordelia getting gently squished between us. Though as soon as she feels me, she closes her eyes, and even over the rumble of the massive crowd, I can hear her purring loudly.
“Hi, wife,” I say, as Poppy’s smile somehow widens further, her dark eyes glittering in the sun.
“Hi.”
“I take it you saw my interview.” The need to know what Poppy thought of it eats at me. Though her presence here gives me a fairly good idea.
“What interview?” Poppy says, cocking her head, but her teasing smile remains. I could answer with a quippy remark, something equally playful. But ever since I decided I love Poppy, the words have been demanding to be said.
“It was true, you know. Everything I said. I meant every single word,” I tell her. Every moment that stretches between us without being able to kiss her is excruciating.
“Here I thought you’d never show the public that side of you.”
“I’ve decided to turn over a new leaf.” My gaze is fixed on her mouth, unable to think of anything except showing her how much I love her.
“Does that include telling all your swooning fans that you’re off the market?” She asks, and it snaps me back to the moment, and drawing my attention to what Poppy hasn’t said. She wants confirmation that I’ve done what I initially set out to do, proof that I’m a changed man.
“They already know,” I answer. “I’ve been a one-woman man since the day we said our vows.”
Poppy stretches up on her tiptoes, and plants a kiss on my mouth, a quick one before she pulls away.
Her eyes flick over to the big screen, where we’re projected in front of the entire crowd.
A brief thought of what people might think of this crosses my mind.
Will they think this is still part of a ruse? Still part of the publicity stunt?
It takes only a second for me to remember that I don’t care, and I turn back to my wife and kiss her like every other time we’ve kissed before.
My lips capture hers and she melts into me, her mouth soft, and warm, and all I’ve ever wanted.