A Long Way to Fall, page 20
Kennedy had seen some of the guests gather to see what was going on. Bridget no doubt felt embarrassed about that. Anyone would. “She must be furious at Seth,” she said under her breath.
“I think she’s feeling all kinds of things. I wouldn’t be surprised if fury is one of them.” Ingrid got up and went to a kitchen cupboard. She grabbed a drinking glass and turned to Kennedy. “Sorry, I changed my mind about the water, but I should’ve asked first. Can I get one for you too?”
Kennedy shook her head and took a few steps closer. “Can I see Bridget?”
“She’s lost her voice. Screaming into an arctic wind will do that, but regular doses of warm tea should help.” Ingrid turned on the faucet and filled her glass. She took a sip and held the glass up to the light. “Ice cold straight out of the tap and crystal clear. It’s almost a miracle.”
“I could do all the talking,” Kennedy said. “I just really need to see her.”
Ingrid set the glass on the counter and turned. “I guess it depends on what you would say to my daughter.”
“So many things.” Not sure how honest she should be, Kennedy paused for a moment. She didn’t see any ire in Ingrid’s eyes. A mother’s concern mixed with a little bit of curiosity? Yes, she definitely saw that. So she decided to be straight with her. “Bridget and I have had a rough start, but I know there’s something good here between us. Something real. That’s why I need her to know that I had nothing to do with what my brother did. Honestly, I didn’t even remember that this place existed until he asked me to come up here at the last minute. And from the moment I stepped off the helicopter, I’ve felt like I was dropped in to this unknown, cold place without a map or details or knowing ahead of time that everyone I met would hate me because I’m Jerry Fleming’s daughter.”
Ingrid went to the table and pulled a chair out. “Will you join me at this table? I’d like to tell you a story, but I’ll need you to promise me something.”
“Of course.” Kennedy rushed over. She’d promise just about anything if it meant she’d have a chance to speak with Bridget.
“What I’m about to tell you, I’ll also have to tell Bridget at some point. I just need a little more time. She has a lot on her plate at the moment. Can you allow me that time?”
“She’s not really talking to me right now, so I think you’re good.”
Ingrid sat in the opposite chair and clasped her hands on the table. “A very long time ago, your father inherited a piece of property from his father. Your grandfather passed away in his early fifties, so you never met him.”
“You’re right, but how do you know—”
Ingrid raised a hand. “Just listen, and then I’ll answer any questions you may have. You see, Jerry was in his twenties and didn’t know anything about the property, so he took a trip to see if it was something he could sell and maybe make a few bucks for college. Much to his surprise, he fell in love with Elk Mountain. So he hung on to the land and did some camping and fishing here in the summer months. He grew to love it so much, he came out one year for Thanksgiving. On that trip, he woke up in his tent one morning to find a foot of snow had fallen overnight. That’s when he fell in love all over again.”
“That’s very sweet, but I still don’t understand how—”
“You will,” Ingrid said with a laugh. “Your generation is so impatient. You want everything streaming on-demand. There was no instant real-time anything back then. Jerry woke up to a foot of snow and fell in love in a whole new way. That’s when he decided to build a small cabin on the land so he could learn how to ski and snowmobile. The very cabin we’re sitting in, minus the helipad and the weird outcropping on the roof.”
Kennedy shook her head in disbelief. “I should know this story. I’m his daughter. I mean, why keep this place a secret? Why take your family on ski trips to Whistler when you have a cabin right on the slopes in Utah?”
“I can’t answer that question, but if it’s okay with you, I would like to finish my story.”
Kennedy leaned back and folded her arms. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but please do. I’d really like to know more about my own father.”
“One day, a very famous skier knocked on Jerry’s door. He was looking for property because he wanted to build a ski lodge. Jerry thought he was crazy because the ski resort was a long way down the mountain, but he liked the guy and thought it might be nice to have a neighbor, especially one who knew how to ski. So he sold him half of the property and gained what he thought at the time would be a lifelong friend.”
“Boden…Berg?” Kennedy said the name with hesitation. This story was about to go south, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear more awful things about her dad. “Please don’t tell me they were secret lovers,” she half joked. “I know I said I’d like to know more about my dad, but I don’t think I can handle another Brokeback Mountain story. The first one was sad enough.”
Ingrid laughed. “You have no idea how ridiculous that statement is.”
Kennedy wiped her brow. “Whew. I can cross jilted lover off my list of possible reasons everyone hates my dad.”
“Not so fast,” Ingrid said. “This is the part that won’t be easy for me to tell Bridget. Or you, for that matter.”
Kennedy’s mouth gaped open. “Wait. It was you?”
Ingrid took in a deep breath. “Okay, here goes. Before I was Boden’s wife and Bridget’s mother, I was Ingrid Fleming for a time.”
“I don’t understand. Are you saying—”
“I was married to your father, Kennedy. Untenably so, and it was short-lived, but there was a time when I loved him.”
Kennedy couldn’t find any words. Was her entire life a lie? “My mom was my dad’s only wife. Crystal Fleming.” She stated it as if it was fact, but she had to question everything now. Including her own lineage because if her parents could lie about this, they could lie about anything. She needed to put a little more space between them. She needed room to move and throw her arms around and yell profanities because what the hell was true anymore?
“You’re limping,” Ingrid said. “What’s wrong with your foot?”
Kennedy jabbed a finger at her. “Don’t change the subject when you so casually just blew up my life.”
“I’m still a mom who recognizes when a foot looks like it could use some ice.”
“It’s had plenty of ice. I just forgot to put that boot back on because the door rang and—”
“I’ll get it. Sit back down, please.”
Of course Ingrid knew right where the bathroom was. This revelation also explained how she knew which cupboard the water glasses were in. Kennedy needed to stay civil, but a part of her wanted to get up, march over to the lodge, and tell Bridget that their parents were liars. Ingrid came back with socks and the boot. She looked like she was about to bend down and help, so Kennedy grabbed them out of her hand. “I can do it myself.”
Ingrid gave her a smile. “Of course you can. What was I thinking?”
Kennedy eyed her while she put the socks and boot on. “So…eventually, you and Boden ended up together and had Bridget. Is it safe to assume that has something to do with this feud?”
“It is. It’s not easy to admit, but I was the one who fell in love first. Boden tried his hardest not to betray his friend. It was only when he could see that my marriage to Jerry would soon be over anyway that he revealed his own feelings to me. And after that, we were inseparable.”
The wistful expression on Ingrid’s face pissed Kennedy off. “Are you seriously going to wax nostalgic at a time like this? The lodge is in danger. Bridget and I are a disaster. I’m not talking to my brother and will probably never meet my new niece because of this mess.” Kennedy froze. “Wait. Michael isn’t yours, is he? I mean, if ever there was a time for him to be someone else’s problem, but still.”
Ingrid laughed. “I promise you, cross my heart, on your grandfather’s grave, in memory of my mother, this story has no secret babies. None.”
“Well, thank God for that. But, Ingrid, Bridget should know this. Everyone should know this because right now, they think my dad is a batshit crazy man who harassed them for no reason when really, he had his heart broken by you and Boden. My God, this makes me angry for him.”
“You have every right to feel angry,” Ingrid said. “And given the situation, I guess I have no right to demand that you not tell Bridget. She’s going to find out eventually.”
“It’s not that I want to tell her. It just doesn’t seem fair that my dad is seen as this gigantic asshole while Boden is this exalted, beloved person with his picture hanging above the fireplace.”
“Maybe not. Or maybe, at least on this mountain, their legacies are right on point.” Ingrid paused for a moment. “Kennedy, can I give you some advice?”
Advice from a cheater? This should be interesting, Kennedy thought. She motioned for Ingrid to continue and said, “Have at it.”
“The only thing we can control in this life is our own actions.”
Kennedy raised an eyebrow. “That’s not advice. That’s something you needlepoint onto a pillow.”
Ingrid seemed amused by the comment. She scrutinized Kennedy for a few seconds before she said, “I like you, Kennedy. You’re nothing like your father. Bridget, however, got all of Boden’s best qualities, and I think you already know that, or you wouldn’t be out there every day making sure her guests have the wonderful holiday experience they paid a lot of money for.”
“I do know that,” Kennedy said. “She’s amazing. I mean, I practically fell for her the second I laid eyes on her tall, hot, redheaded self.” She slapped a hand over her eyes. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
Ingrid laughed. “It was the same way for me with Boden. Unfortunately, I’ve never loved anyone like that since. It was a once in a lifetime kind of love, and although our marriage didn’t last, I will always cherish every moment I shared with him.”
“Just curious. How can it be both? I mean, if you loved each other so much, why didn’t it last?”
“Unfortunately, love doesn’t conquer everything.”
“Wow. That’s both vague and also pillow-worthy.”
“Maybe you could start a reality-based pillow line with quotes and sayings that you’re not sure how to feel about,” Ingrid quipped.
Kennedy gasped. “That’s a brilliant idea. The tagline could be, confusing the emotions of people everywhere.”
“Seems like it could also be the theme of the week on Elk Mountain.”
“Right? I so badly want to hate you right now, but I kinda dig you, Ingrid. So tell me, how do I fix things with Bridget?”
Ingrid stood and buckled up her cape. “It’s a great thing you’re doing out there at the gate. That’s all she needs from you right now.”
“I can’t do it forever. My brother will put a stop to it eventually.”
Ingrid put her hand on Kennedy’s shoulder. “At least you will have done all you could for the woman you claim to love.” She turned and sauntered to the door.
Kennedy got up and followed. “Did I say that I love her? I mean, I do, it’s just that I shouldn’t blurt those words out all willy-nilly.”
Ingrid stopped at the door and smiled. “You didn’t have to say a word. It’s written all over your face. Keep icing that toe.” She pulled the hood on her cape over her head. “And dress warmly. There’s another storm on the way.”
Chapter Eleven
Donny was up early. And he had company. His usual ETA at the gate was sometime after ten because he didn’t like to have breakfast during the early morning rush. Also, because he was a fabulous diva who needed his beauty sleep.
His ski outfit was different too. Yesterday, he looked like he’d gone back to the 1960s in his tight black ski pants and thigh-length red jacket that buckled at the waist. Today, Kennedy praised the lord almighty because who didn’t love a white man over sixty in a yellow Lycra one-piece ski suit with a red scarf, hat, and gloves? If Ronald McDonald went on a ski holiday…
Kennedy squealed with glee. “Oh, my God, Donny, you just made my day.”
“The Spy Who Loved Me, 1977.” He spread his arms, poles in hand and shouted, “James Bond ain’t got nothin on me!”
James Bond? Oh God. Kennedy swallowed the words, Ronald McDonald. She pushed them right back down her throat and gave him a thumbs up. “Killin’ it, Donny. What brings you out so early?”
The woman next to him raised her goggles. “Lola,” Kennedy exclaimed. “I mean, Sheriff…oh God, I forgot your last name.”
“How could you forget her last name?” Donny asked. “She’s an Olympian. A champion skier. And today, Lola Johns is all mine.”
“For three hours,” Lola clarified.
Donny unzipped his suit and pulled out a small brown bag. “This is from Chef Lawrence. He said it’d warm you right up. Also, after I told him how handsome he was, he said he’d send someone out later with a grilled cheese sandwich.”
“Aw, he’s so sweet. Will you thank him for me?”
“Given the opportunity, I’ll do more than that,” he said with a wink. “Oh, and Bridget looked as gorgeous as ever this morning. Sometimes, all we need is a good cry, right, Lola?”
Lola gave him a hesitant nod. “Right, Donny. Now, do you want to give Kennedy the secret password so we can get going?”
Donny leaned in and lowered his voice. “Time is a tickin, and if I’m going to score myself some hot male skier action, I need Lola to help me up my schuss-bada-boom game.”
“I don’t know what that means, but I think your outfit is going to do all the work for you.”
Donny made the sign of the cross. “From your lips to God’s ears. Oh. The password.” He leaned in and whispered, “I have it on very good authority that Bridget watches you from a window on the top floor, but don’t tell anyone it came from me.” He zipped his lips and lowered his goggles.
It wasn’t the password, but it was extremely valuable information. Kennedy opened the gate. “Enjoy your day.”
Donny went first. Lola stopped next to Kennedy and adjusted her gloves. It seemed like a stall tactic, so Kennedy broke the silence. “What does it cost to ski with you for three hours?”
“This is just a trial thing that Harriet set up. We’ll see how it goes.”
“But how much?”
Lola squinted. “I’m embarrassed to say what she’s charging folks. Anyway, I should get going.”
Kennedy reached for her arm. “Is there something you wanted to say to me? Something along the lines of, wish me luck with Ronald McDonald?”
Lola snickered. “I almost said that out loud when I saw him.”
Kennedy gasped. “Me too.”
“But, hey. At least I won’t lose him on the trail.”
“That’s a good point. And good luck with the shushy-boom thing.”
“Thanks. I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”
She pushed off down the trail, and Kennedy shouted, “Whatever you charge, I’m sure it’s worth it.”
She peeked in the bag and took a whiff of the delicious aroma. “Mmm…chocolate croissants are my fave.” She took a bite and casually scanned the top floor of the lodge. She couldn’t see anyone, but a part of her wanted to march up there and take Bridget by the hand and drag her to the penthouse so they could fight it out and then make up with cuddles and sweet kisses, followed by hot, passionate sex.
Two things stopped her. One, she didn’t dare leave the gate in someone else’s hands. Not even Seth. And two, Ingrid’s words from the night before had stuck with her. She hoped it was true that this was all Bridget needed from her right now because in reality, she had nothing else to give. She couldn’t offer any reassurances that everything would turn out okay. She had no control over anything except the gate. So she’d stay there until Michael or their lawyer showed up and forced her to stop.
She sat on her little stool and took another bite of the croissant, then closed her visor so no one would notice her staring at the windows on the top floor. She stopped chewing when she heard a helicopter.
* * *
Kennedy stepped into the cabin and stamped her feet on the rug. “Welcome to Elk Mountain, secret land of the crazies and home of the even crazier.”
Michael turned from the window and tucked his hands in his pockets. “Oh my God. It’s even worse up close.”
Kennedy glanced around. “Huh. And here I thought I’d warmed the place up with my spunky personality and knack for making good coffee.”
“I was talking about my sister, the abominable snow astronaut. Even the helicopter pilot had a good chuckle. Oh, and we both know you spend five hundred dollars a month at Starbucks.”
She set her helmet on a chair and slid out of her boots. Clearly, Michael wasn’t there to do anything but belittle her and make her feel even worse than she already did, but it was in her best interest to stay calm so they could have a reasonable conversation. “Maybe it’s the water up here that makes coffee taste better,” she said. “And what’s so wrong with my outfit? It’s perfect for the current weather conditions.”
“For one thing, you look ridiculous. And for another, I know what you’re doing, Ken.”
She pursed her lips and resisted the urge to kick him in the nuts. Besides, it would hurt too much, given her bad toe. “How long are you staying?”
“Does that mean you’re planning to stay longer? Ken, you haven’t even asked me if I’m a father yet or how Josie is doing. You’re so wrapped up in your little fling with Boden’s daughter, you’ve forgotten you have a family who needs you.”
