Sonata for Springtime, page 9
One by one, each duo successfully boarded the chairlift and soared away. When it was our turn, I got into position and checked behind me, as I’d been instructed, and landed on the seat as it scooped me up. Beside me, Tara reached up and pulled on the safety bar, and we took off toward our destination.
“So, having fun so far?” she asked as we ascended the mountain.
“Still a little nervous I’m going to wind up breaking my neck,” I admitted. “But it is nice out here, and I needed a bit of a distraction from work and other stuff at home.”
“Good, glad to hear it.” She turned toward me, but all I could see was my own reflection in her goggles. “You seemed a little quiet, so I was worried you were miserable. Skiing isn’t for everyone, no matter how much I love it.”
I snorted. “It sometimes takes me a little while to warm up in new situations. No pun intended.”
“Fair enough!” Laughing, she pressed one gloved finger to her cheek as she studied me. “Hmm, let’s see. Even though you’re starting to open up, I’ve been doing this for a long time, so let’s see how accurate my guesses are.”
My eyebrow shot up behind my own goggles. “I’m listening.”
“At the risk of sounding like a cliché, I know you’re not from around here, so I’m thinking New York City, or at least the suburbs.”
I nodded. “New Jersey, so very close. I’ll award you the point.”
“And you mentioned needing a break from work, so I’m assuming you’ve got some sort of high-powered job down there.” She brushed some loose strands of hair away from her face. “You don’t seem like a doctor to me, so I’m thinking law or finance.”
“Damn, you are good at this.”
“I told you, I love meeting new people and I’ve been doing so for a while.” Her mouth twisted to one side as I waited for her next assessment. “You’re here alone, so I’m going to take a leap and guess no wife and kids, since you don’t seem the type to leave them behind.”
“I’ll assume it’s a compliment,” I said, smirking.
“It is.” Tara exhaled. “You mentioned needing to get away from something other than work. Recent heartbreak, maybe?”
I tried not to wince. “Something like that. It’s a long story.”
“Isn’t it always. I won’t pry, though.” She jerked her head toward the end of the chairlift, which was approaching quickly. “Come on, time to show me how well you absorbed the information I gave you about disembarking.”
I readied my poles and took a deep breath. At the top of the lift, I skied down the short ramp to where the rest of the group waited for us. “See? I knew you all could do it,” Tara called, beaming. “Now, it’s not a race to the bottom, so try to follow me.”
We made it back to the base of the mountain without incident. With every curve my skis sliced through the snow, I gained a little more confidence in my ability to avoid a crash. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever develop a great love for the sport, but I could think of worse ways to spend my time off from work.
For our second trip up the chairlift, I wound up paired with Tara again. “How long are you staying here?” she asked once we were airborne.
I tapped my skis together and the snow fell off of them. “I’m checking out on Saturday. It’s not too long of a drive, and I’ll still have Sunday off before I return to work.”
“Oh, awesome!” A mischievous smile crossed her face. “Every Friday, the staff stays late and puts on a little show for the guests. Yeah, it’s kind of stupid and cheesy, but it’s always a lot of fun, too.”
I matched her sly expression. “You’re not really doing a great job of selling this, you know.”
“Shh, don’t tell my supervisors.” She gave me a little nudge with her elbow. “What if I reminded you there’s an open bar you already paid for?”
A burst of laughter shook my shoulders. “Now you may be onto something.”
“Good. So, I’ll see you there?”
I glanced away from her, though I was sure I failed to conceal my amusement. “Maybe.”
The rest of the week passed quickly, and while none of my classmates could be considered experts, we’d all had an enjoyable time skiing together at our resort. By the time Friday night rolled around, I’d agreed to attend the festivities to cap off the trip. I joined some of the people from my group at a table near the back, large glass of wine in hand, and settled in to watch the show.
The skits and other performances were as silly as Tara had warned me they’d be, but it felt good to laugh at something mindless. In the morning, I’d be heading home, back to work and slushy sidewalks and nosy neighbors and other neighbors I tried not to think about. I hoped my pleasant mood would last at least a few days into my return.
The reminders of my upcoming departure made me want to avoid going back to my room for a bit longer. I refilled my glass and wandered around the common areas of the lower level of the resort. A fire crackled and popped behind a screen, surrounded by empty armchairs and couches. I debated going upstairs to grab the book I’d been reading in the evenings but sat down instead.
No matter how hard I tried to push them away, the thoughts I’d been trying to evade all week kept creeping back inside my head. I sipped my wine and stared at the dancing flames, willing myself to relax and forget everything for one more night. Steve had assured me work assignments wouldn’t pile up too much in my absence, and surely, the dreary weather couldn’t last too much longer, and—
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
Tara’s voice broke through my jumbled inner monologue. I glanced to where she stood at the other end of the couch. Rather than being twisted in her usual braid, her copper hair fell past her shoulders, shimmering in the firelight. Her snow pants and jacket had been traded in for jeans and a fuzzy sweater, yet she appeared the perfect complement to the general ambiance of the resort.
“Not at all,” I said, smiling up at her. “I’m…you know, I’m not even sure what I’m doing.”
“Squeezing in a few more minutes of relaxation before going home tomorrow?”
“Sure, we’ll call it that.” I angled my head toward the cushion beside me. “You’re welcome to join me, unless you have other work matters to attend to.”
“Nope. I’m all done for the night.” She took a seat, tucking one leg beneath her as she swiveled toward me. “I do hope you had fun this week and got to unwind a bit. Even if you were stressing out about crashing half the time.”
I sipped from my glass. “Well, at least the constant fear of snapping my neck took my mind off some other things.”
Tara rested one elbow on the back of the couch. “Being outdoors in the fresh air can be good for that.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m aware of how I need to get out more often.” My shoulder twitched in a little shrug. “Who knows. Maybe I will wind up hitting the slopes again closer to home whenever I’m feeling restless.”
Berry-pink lips curled into a broad smile. “I have faith in your abilities to be a responsible skier once I turn you loose.”
“Thanks.”
We sat side by side, gazing into the glow emanating from the fireplace. After another swig of wine, I felt compelled to fill the silence. “You’re so lucky,” I said. “Doing what you love every day. I mean, obviously I realize it’s not easy and not every moment is going to be sunshine and rainbows. But still.”
“In some ways, I am lucky, yes.” Her fingers threaded through her hair as she leaned on her hand. “I’m sorry you don’t like your job.”
“Oh, I like it. It’s fine. But I don’t love it.” I hadn’t planned on dumping my innermost thoughts on a near stranger, but the words kept spilling out. “For a long time, I was just going through the motions. Not only with work but with everything. It’s not like I was depressed or anything, but I’m not sure if I was happy, either.”
“Then something changed?” Tara prompted.
Stop talking, stop talking, stop talking. My mouth continued to ignore my brain. “I met a woman, and the whole world changed whenever I was around her. You know, brighter colors, sweeter sounds, stronger emotions…whatever’s in all those sappy love songs or poems.” I stared into the depths of my wineglass, tempted to finish off the rest of it in one gulp. “But I can’t be with her. And I’ve felt myself slipping back to the way things were before and I don’t know how to stop it, or if I should even bother trying.”
She reached over and squeezed my shoulder. “You’ll find a way.”
I offered her a halfhearted smile. “See, I am jealous of you. You’re so passionate about what you do. I wish I could feel that way about something.” Closing my eyes, I exhaled, then turned back toward the fireplace. “Shit. I can’t believe I’ve been rambling on and on for so long. This will teach me to have a few glasses of wine in rapid succession.”
A soft laugh bubbled up from her chest. “It’s okay. I did come over here to talk to you after all.”
“Yeah, but I’ve been terrible company.” I set my glass on a nearby table. “I’m definitely going to stop drinking now. Unless…” Glancing at her, I raised an eyebrow. “All this time and I haven’t even offered to grab you anything from the bar. Sorry for the oversight.”
Tara giggled again. “Don’t worry about it. They’re probably closing up for the evening, and besides, I need to drive home soon.” Something in her expression shifted, a spark lighting up her pale-blue eyes. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she tilted her head toward me. “Though, if you’re interested, I could consider staying the night…”
If I’d been drinking more wine, I probably would have choked on it. “Do all your students get such special treatment?”
“Only a couple, here and there,” she said, her lips curving into an alluring smile.
“Oh. Well, uh, this is…surprising,” I stammered. Warmth flooded my cheeks as I let out an awkward chuckle, and not due to the amount of wine I’d consumed. My pulse raced, but in my heart, I knew what the right response for me was. “Um…you’re gorgeous, and I’m flattered, and I’m probably going to regret this tomorrow, but I’m not really into the whole casual thing.” I ruffled the hair at the side of my head and hoped the heat creeping up my neck would subside. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” Her pleasant expression hadn’t faded. “You’re a nice guy and I’ve enjoyed getting to know you this week. I figured it was worth a shot.”
I swallowed. “I haven’t been feeling very nice lately, so I think that’s an even bigger compliment.”
“Then I hope you accept it.” For a split second, something I couldn’t quite interpret flashed across her face. “As I’ve been saying this whole time, I do love meeting new people here at the resort…but there are pros and cons to living in a tourist town, you know? Nothing seems to last too long around here.”
“I can imagine.”
Another beat of silence elapsed. “I’m not going to be drinking anymore tonight,” I finally said, “but I don’t think I’m ready to call it a night yet, so I’ll be hanging out for a few more minutes here, if you want to stick around.”
She nodded. “Sure.”
Tara settled back against the couch cushions, leaving a space of a few inches between us. Neither of us spoke, yet the quietness of our surroundings wasn’t uncomfortable. Despite all my mixed feelings about everything going on in my life, I admitted the short trip away from home had been a good idea, and resolved to actually use more of my vacation time in the future.
“Jonathan?” she said softly.
“Mm?”
She let out a long, steady breath, her eyes trained on the flames before us. “I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.”
The dull ache in my chest which had never seemed to disappear over the past month intensified, and a whirlwind of emotions churned in the pit it left. I rubbed my eyes and tried to tamp them down. “I hope you do, too.”
Chapter Twelve
Muted sunlight peeked through the slats in my blinds as I rummaged around in my closet. While I hoped the snow was finished for the season, the stinging flakes had been replaced by cold rain, the mountains of snow at the edges of the street melting into dingy puddles. Keeping Rocky out of them during our walks could be a challenge, but at least it looked like there wouldn’t be any precipitation falling on my head this morning.
I grabbed an old hooded sweatshirt, shrugged it on, and zipped it up. With luck, I wouldn’t have to use the hood, but I figured it was always good to be prepared for the unpredictability of early spring. I shoved my feet into a pair of worn sneakers without bothering to undo the laces and set out to collect the dog for his walk.
Outside, I headed down the walkway to the sidewalk rather than cutting across the grass, in an effort to keep my feet dry. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t ignore the latest addition to the street—a For Sale sign in front of Natalie and Chris’s unit. A lump formed in my throat as I walked by, my shoes scuffing along the pavement. It was probably for the best. Maybe I could forget this whole year ever happened.
Rocky hopped up and down when I opened the door, his tail wagging as he barked his greeting. I bent over to scratch his head before retrieving his leash. “I’m here!” I called into the kitchen.
“I’m coming, I’m coming.”
Mrs. Wilkes emerged, thrusting a plate of cookies in my direction. I took the top one and bit into it. “Delicious, as always,” I said after swallowing.
“Thank you.” She set the plate on an end table. “There’s not much else to do with all this wet weather we’ve been having, but I want to take Rocky out myself once it dries up a bit and gets a little warmer.”
I knelt to clip the leash onto his collar. “I don’t mind—”
“I know. And I hope I express my appreciation enough.” She tugged at the collar of her cardigan. “Besides, it’s always good to get out and about after a long winter.”
“Yeah, winter must be tough for you.” Straightening, I smirked. “It’s hard to keep up on the neighborhood gossip when you’re cooped up inside.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m surprised you haven’t asked me what I’ve learned about the situation across the street.”
My stomach lurched. After a long pause, I sighed. “I don’t want to know.”
“Are you sure?”
I mulled over the simple yet loaded question. “All right, fine,” I finally said. “You’re obviously dying to tell me, so you might as well spill.”
Delight sparkled in her eyes at the prospect of sharing her findings with me. “I didn’t get all the details—yet—but I did hear the wedding has been called off.”
“Oh.” I twisted the end of the leash back and forth in my hands. “I haven’t spoken to either of them in months. And I’m planning on keeping it that way.”
“Probably a wise choice.” She glanced toward the front window, though nothing had changed outside since I’d entered. “It’s a shame, really, but I suppose it’s better to make the decision now rather than many unhappy years down the road.”
“I guess so.” A fresh wave of guilt bubbled in my stomach. “Whatever happens, I hope they each wind up in a good place.”
“Me, too.”
I led Rocky toward the door, but Mrs. Wilkes stopped me. “Oh! I almost forgot. I have something for you.”
My hand holding the leash dropped as she disappeared into the kitchen. When she returned, she was clutching a folded piece of paper. “I went out to lunch with my friends the other day,” she said. “I think I’ve mentioned Lorraine before? The one whose husband used to work for the city, and she thought it made her better than everyone else, until she got into trouble with one too many parking tickets, and then—”
“Yeah, sounds familiar,” I lied. “She seems great.”
She shot me another irritated look then continued. “She was telling us about her nephew, who recently opened a new business. He’s making his own fancy beers, or something like that.”
“A microbrewery?”
“Yes! See, I knew you’d know more about this than I would.” She smoothed her hair. “Not only does he want to make the beer, but he also wants to get into hosting events, maybe start serving food one day. Turn it into a fun spot where people want to gather, I think.”
“Super.” I raised a suspicious eyebrow. “So, what does this have to do with me?”
“Well…” Averting her gaze, she drew out the word. “Lorraine said he’s hosting his first one this Friday night and asked if we knew anyone who would be interested in attending. We all took a couple of fliers to help her out, but I thought it might be nice for you to go.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Without looking at me, she held out the flier. I took it from her, gingerly holding it by one corner as if it might explode. Looping the end of Rocky’s leash around my wrist, I unfolded the paper and scanned the text. “A game night? What, you want me to sit around playing Monopoly and drinking shitty beer with strangers for a few hours?”
Mrs. Wilkes forced a smile. “If you make friends, they won’t be strangers anymore!”
I glared at her over the top of the flier. “This is ridiculous.”
“What’s a few hours? It’s not like you have anything better to do on a Friday night.”
Rolling my eyes, I crouched and ruffled Rocky’s fur. “It’s a good thing you’re such a good boy, or else I’d stop coming over here to listen to insults all the time.”
“Okay, fine.” She sniffed, lifting her chin in the air. “Do it as a favor for me, then. If I actually get someone to go to this thing, then I get to brag about what a wonderful friend I am at our next lunch outing.”
I tilted my head as I scratched behind the dog’s ears. “If I go and have a miserable time, I’m going to complain about it nonstop every time I see you for at least the next month.”
“It’s a deal.” She flashed a grin.
I stood and took a step toward the door, gently tugging on Rocky’s leash. “Let’s get out of here. If I stay any longer, who knows what else I’ll wind up agreeing to despite my better judgment.”
