Twenty
Gillian stared up at the toboggan chute.
It wasn’t exactly what she’d expected, though she wasn’t sure she’d had any specific image in mind.
Maybe if pressed she would’ve predicted something quaint, wooden, or lower to the ground.
This contraption was almost industrial. All metal, a square green hut atop a clanking staircase several stories above the ground.
A line of riders holding long wooden sleds disappeared inside, then a minute later shot down a track that looked like some rickety leftover from an old factory.
And it wasn’t short, either. The riders went down fast enough that they kept going long after the track disappeared into the snow-covered hillside.
Pure sledding at that point, they raced the length of multiple football fields, their shrieks fading in the distance before they toppled off into frozen drifts.
“It’s rather imposing,” she finally said, turning to find the same wide-eye disbelief on Brooke’s face.
“That cannot be safe,” Brooke said as another sled burst forth, bearing a slew of screaming teenagers past them in a blur.
“Do you think it’s too late to call Robin and Sawyer back from the line for sleds? Or should we tell Tegan not to park the car and instead slow down enough for us to jump in and leave the others behind?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Brooke said flatly. “They can come back with all the sleds they want, but I’m not getting on that thing.”
“Obviously.”
“It’s certifiable,” Brooke mumbled as if she hadn’t already made her point.
Gillian nodded. “What are we doing here?”
Brooke finally pulled her eyes away from the metal monstrosity to stare at her.
“What do you mean ‘we’? I’m here because you’re here.
You’re supposed to be the only safe person in this friend group for me to follow.
You said ‘snow-day fun’ and I hopped in the car picturing ice wine or hot cocoa covered in toasted marshmallow fluff.
The more pressing question is what are you doing here? ”
For the life of her, Gillian couldn’t remember.
Nothing about this outing seemed like a decision she would’ve made.
Though admittedly, she’d made several rather uncharacteristic decisions lately.
In fact, this hardly ranked among them. Still, she wasn’t ready to explain that to Brooke yet, so she turned and watched as another toboggan flew from the chute.
However, before it even reached the bottom of the ramp, she heard someone call her name with a peel of unfettered joy.
The sound was so uncommonly associated with her, she whirled around to see Izzy, smile bright, dark curls flowing from under a purple stocking cap as the girl waved frantically from the parking lot. Suddenly, she remembered exactly how she got here.
“Izzy,” she said. “Izzy asked me to come today.”
Brooke eyed her skeptically. “Daphne’s daughter asked you to visit a snowy death trap, and you agreed?”
She shrugged. “Actually, she asked me what the best thing to do in Buffalo on a snow day was, and somehow I’d rather do this than let her down by admitting I tend to spend my snow days working.”
Brooke’s whole demeanor softened. “I suppose if one were going to give any reason to climb onto that implement of destruction, you found one of the better ones, though I could think of one more that might top it.”
“What’s that?”
Brooke looked over her shoulder. “Izzy’s mom.”
Gillian followed her gaze to Daphne weaving through the crowd behind her daughter.
She wore brown snow pants and a cream-colored puffy jacket offsetting her naturally olive complexion.
Like her daughter, she’d tucked her own curls under a cap, but on her, the look wasn’t cute so much as alluring.
She was perfect in so many ways Gillian had never let herself admire before, and even under multiple layers of winter clothing, she could trace every curve of her with her eyes the way she had with her hands only the night before last.
After everything the two of them had gone through, it seemed silly to think they could still see each other in new ways, but snow-day Daphne was every bit as compelling as middle-of-the-night Daphne, and Gillian ached to know all the versions of her she’d previously kept herself closed off from.
Daphne spotted her and seemed to do the same kind of visual inventory before full lips spread into a smile, making whatever was about to happen 100 percent worth it. Gillian’s heart rate kicked up a notch in ways that had nothing to do with the people screaming behind her.
“Hi,” Daphne said as she approached. “I have to admit, I expected you to chicken out.”
Gillian bristled despite having contemplated exactly that only minutes earlier. “Why? Have our last few encounters suggested I’m one to shrink from a challenge?”
Daphne bit her lower lip and shook her head. “I’m not sure I like the implication that interactions with me carry the same level of challenge as all of this, but no, you haven’t shrunk from much lately.”
Gillian’s cheeks warmed even in the frosty air.
“Why are you two always weird together?” Izzy asked, and Gillian’s internal temperature rose even higher. My God, she’d been flirting with Daphne right in front of her preteen daughter.
“Izzy, that’s rude,” Daphne scolded mildly.
“Gotta say, I’m with her on this one,” Brooke jumped in. “Probably wouldn’t have phrased it quite as bluntly, but I would’ve asked the same thing on the ride home.”
“Thanks for the forewarning,” Gillian said, “but that’s assuming we survive this harrowing experience. We may die and never have to answer any questions.”
Daphne glanced from Gillian to Izzy to Brooke. “Sounds like a real toss-up.”
“What does?” Sawyer asked, tromping through the snow with an extra-long wooden sled tucked under one arm.
“Meeting a swift and untimely end via toboggan or having conversations with other people we haven’t had with each other yet,” Gillian said blithely.
“I’d choose the former.” Robin joined them, dragging a toboggan behind her as well. “At least the chute will be over quickly.”
Gillian must’ve been in pretty bad shape, because she saw Robin’s point.
“I’m not afraid of any conversation,” Brooke said. “I’m here to watch, and possibly to talk, but I’m also happy to play photographer while you all scream your way down the chute.”
“Are those my options?” Daphne glanced nervously around. “Surely, there’s a watch-and-not-talk-to-a-therapist possibility.”
Tegan laughed as she walked up behind them. “I feel like I’ve arrived at just the right moment. The parking lot’s hectic, but this seems worse. What is happening?”
“Gillian and Daphne are weird, I’m not riding that contraption, but the others might, in order to avoid dealing with conversations of indeterminate topics,” Brooke summarized.
Robin raised her hand. “I’m Team Toboggan.”
“Same.” Sawyer raised theirs as well.
“I want to ride with Gillian!” Izzy declared enthusiastically, then turned to her with big brown eyes so much like her mother’s. “Please?”
Gillian didn’t even look at the others. “I didn’t drive all the way out of the city on icy roads to wimp out on your first Buffalo snow day.”
Daphne rolled her eyes. “You have to make everything competitive, don’t you? We can’t ever just have a nice time, can we?”
Gillian turned to her and merely arched one eyebrow pointedly. “Can’t we?”
Daphne’s mouth opened, then shut again, as if she couldn’t believe Gillian had said something so brazen in mixed company. Honestly, she couldn’t either, but she still felt a surge of satisfaction at leaving this woman speechless … again.
“Can I change my vote?” Robin asked. “I think I do want to hear this conversation.”
“There’s no conversation,” Daphne said quickly. “I’m riding, too. Let’s go.”
Before anyone else could press them, Gillian snagged one of the sleds from Robin and started up the stairs.
It seemed like the line should’ve taken longer, should’ve given her time to reflect on her life and her choices, or at least what had happened back there.
If nothing else, she might’ve enjoyed a moment or two just to look at Daphne ahead of her and two steps up, putting Gillian’s line of sight level with the curve of her hips and—
“How many riders?” The man at the door to the metal hut interrupted her inspection.
“Three!” Izzy answered for them all. “I want to sit up front. Mom, you better hold onto me so I don’t fly off.”
“What a lovely image,” Daphne mumbled. “Who’ll keep me from a similar fate?”
Izzy looked at her as if she found the question silly. “Uh, Gillian, obviously.”
Gillian bit her lip to keep from smiling, both at Izzy’s unflappable faith in her and in the way Daphne sighed before repeating, “Obviously.”
The young man working inside the booth loaded their toboggan onto the track and helped them each climb on. Izzy tucked her feet easily under the arching bend of the wood forming the sled’s front edge, and Daphne snugged up behind her, legs alongside her daughter’s.
Gillian took her place behind Daphne, long legs extended to the sides for only a second before realizing that was a great way to lose a limb.
“Scootch closer and wrap your legs around her,” the operator said, rather unhelpfully.
She pressed her lips together tightly to keep from snapping off a retort and did as instructed.
Sliding all the way forward until the centerline of her body pressed fully against Daphne’s back, she literally bit her tongue to keep from making any sort of inappropriate noises or comments, but she couldn’t quite keep her hips from rocking forward into that amazing ass.
Daphne must’ve felt it, too, because she shifted slightly and arched the curve of her back into her.
The subtle softening of her body, the little tells in close proximity, the heat between them in the midst of such cold, it all affected her, and in order to keep her cool, Gillian had to actively remind herself there was a child on board the sled.
Which was about to plummet out of a second-story window.