chapter five
SOMETHING NEW
“Gotcha,” Link exclaimed as he reached out to grab me before I hit the ground.
“Thanks, I so didn’t notice that ice patch,” I breathed with a grimaced as I steadied myself. “When did you get back?”
“Yesterday.”
“Where did you go?”
“I drove down into Mexico. I don’t do well with holidays. There’s no Thanksgiving there.”
“Too many Memories?”
“Yeah, I just didn’t want to smell roast turkey and mashed potatoes and then be reminded of family dinners,” he admitted.
“You’ll have to start making new ones that’s all. You could have had dinner with us. Friends make good holiday partners too. We are still going to be friends, aren’t we?” I questioned. His sudden absence had caused me to wonder.
“Yes, we are. If you still want to be. On the other hand, I am kinda old to be hanging out with a little girl like you.”
“Get over it. I’ll get you a cane so you don’t hurt yourself, old man,” I kidded him. “In about two months I’ll officially be an adult. Will you feel better then? You could just avoid me until February.”
“I’m not sure I could do that,” Link looked at me, his expression sober.
“I don’t think I would like it much either,” I admitted.
“What should we do?”
“I’m not sure.”
“How about skiing? Friends ski. The trails will be open in a few days. Ski with me,” he brightened.
“Can’t ski. Some kids from school are going this weekend, but I bowed out. I didn’t want to spoil their fun.”
“You – can’t – ski?” Link emphasized each word as he spoke.
“Nope,” I said.
“That’s a travesty.”
“What should we do?”
“I’m teaching you. You, me, base of lift four, Saturday, nine o’clock sharp,” he ordered.
“We could wait until Meadows is open. Everyone keeps saying that’s the easiest green,” I offered.
“Nonsense, Village Bypass is a green. So is Lower Boomerang,” he paused as I stared at him, completely lost in his ski trail name rattling.
“I’ll show you a trail map later,” he responded to my confused look, and then teased, “I won’t let you tumble down the mountainside.”
Link flashed his brilliant smile.
“No, I can take care of the tumbling part all by myself, I’m quite sure.” I grimaced at how easily I could picture myself tumbling head over heels down an embankment of snow. “But seriously, Link, I have no gear. I told Aunt Rachel I could be at the boutique with her on Saturday. I’m not prepared. Let’s wait.”
“Ask her for a pass. And, gear is not a problem. I’ve seen how you live. Remember? I’m sure you’ve got a credit card somewhere, with an enormously high limit. Believe it or not, despite my male status, I’m an excellent shopper – very patient. In fact, if there is one thing that Telluride is not lacking in, it’s ski shops. Let’s go.” He held out his arm and I reached out to lock elbows with him.
We walked just a few yards, arm in arm, to the nearest ski shop. Both of us had identical silly grins on our faces as we walked through the door.
I tried on so many pairs of boots (I stopped counting after four), before I found a pair that was comfortable (if you can call ski boots that), pretty (blue – my favorite color), and had all the features that Link insisted were necessary. The skis were an easier find. Once I was shown the selection of skis that were suitable for my height? weight? or was it skiing ability (zero)? – I don’t remember what they were checking for. I chose the prettiest ones in the shop, blue again (with floral accents). Link rolled his eyes at me.
Next we moved on to clothes. Link sat patiently while I tried on various ski pants and jacket combinations. His face was pretty transparent when he didn’t like an outfit. A slight frown would tug at the corners of his mouth, even while the words “it looks fine,” came out of his mouth. I got that brilliant smile when I emerged from the changing room in tight fitting, black ski pants and a light blue, cropped jacket.
“Nice threads, huh,” I said to him.
“Very nice threads,” he echoed my words.
Link added hats, scarves, gloves, goggles, hand warmers, and socks to the pile. I marveled at the amount of gear required in this sport. Finally we brought the entire load up to the counter and I waited for the painful total.
“My aunt and uncle are going to flip when they see that charge.” I cringed in shock as we headed back to the vehicles. A piece here, and a thing there, added up really fast.
“You needed this for school too, right?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“I’m sure they’ll be fine. This stuff will last for years. You’ll get good use out of it. I’ll see to that,” he promised and his smile reached all the way to his eyes.
“I’m glad you ski, everyone at school seems to snow board.”
“Grandpa skied, he took me every winter. He taught my mom to ski when she was a little girl. We all skied together when I was very young - Grandpa, my parents, and me. Then after my parents died it was just the two of us. Grandma always said her legs were not built for skis. But she enjoyed the snow. So the three of us went to Mammoth Mountain two or three times every season.” Link smiled at the memory. It was a small sad smile.
“Thank you for sharing this with me then. It’s good that you are still honoring their memory this way. If your Grandpa loved it so much, he’d want you to continue doing it. Don’t you think?”
“That’s why I’m a so called ski bum. It makes me feel closer to him when I’m racing down a mountain.”
“Can we just meander down the mountain this weekend and save the racing for later?” I smirked at him.
“I’ll do my best,” Link promised as we packed all my new gear into the back of the SUV.
“See you Saturday, nine o’clock sharp,” I promised out the window after I climbed into the driver’s seat.
“I’ll pick you up instead. I think you’ll need some help with all that stuff,” he said, altering his original plan.
“I think you are right,” I agreed.
A huge snowstorm blew in that night, dumping snow for two days straight. When I awoke Saturday morning, apprehension rolled around in my stomach. It created a ball of nervous knots. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself. I imagined myself falling five, ten, fifteen times during my first run. I cleared my head, determined to control my silly fears. I could do this. My cell phone started buzzing around the bathroom counter, and I jumped. It was my habit to always keep it on vibrate mode.
“Hello,” I answered it without checking the screen.
“Hey, Emily. It’s Summer.” She sounded excited.
“Oh. Hi, Summer. What’s up?”
“Well, I just found out that there was enough snow from this last storm to open Meadows. So now you can go with us,” she exclaimed.
“Oh, well, actually I can’t...” I started.
“No, really, you can. I already told Rusty I was calling you. Burke convinced Dee to let him teach her to board. So, we can all go together,” she burst through before I had a chance to complete my sentence.
“Well, what I was trying to say is - I already made plans to learn to ski. Lincoln Knight, who works at the hardware store, offered to teach me. I kinda wanted to ski instead of board anyway. I hope you’re okay with that.”
“Lincoln Knight? From the hardware store? Oh my God! That’s the hot guy that just started working there a couple of months ago. How did you meet him?” she squealed into the phone.
“Long story,” I said.
“How old is he?”
“Twenty-Two... We are just friends. He wants to teach me to ski. It’s no big deal,” I explained.
“I can’t wait to tell Delilah. See you on the slopes,” Summer sang as she hung up the phone. She was dying to spread the gossip.
/> I shook my head as I exited the bathroom, and decided it was time to get myself ready for the day. I struggled to get all my new ski gear together. The tall socks, ski pants, and long sleeve shirt I put on in my room. I left my boots, skis, poles, jacket, goggles, and knit cap by the side door. I slipped my sheepskin boots on my feet and waited for Link. He arrived at nine o’clock sharp, just as promised.
“Hello, Mr. Knight,” I greeted him, opening the door before he knocked.
“Well hello, Miss Johnston. You’re looking a bit apprehensive this morning. Are you ready?”
“I don’t think I have quite enough gear over there,” I replied, using sarcasm to cover my nerves.
“Oh? Looks like the right amount to me.” He smiled that brilliant smile again and my heart skipped a beat, maybe two. “As soon as lift ten is open you can use Galloping Goose to ski right out of here and then you won’t have to lug this gear anywhere.”
“That sounds perfect, let’s wait for that,” I suggested.
“Come on, little girl, let’s go,” he said as he picked up my skis and boots and headed to his SUV.
I picked up the rest of my stuff and followed him to the back of the vehicle. “Keep me upright, Big Daddy,” I ordered.
“I’ll do my best,” he promised.
Link said he knew a guy who worked at one of the resorts that was walking distance to the lifts. The guy let him park in the resort’s underground garage. So that was our destination, instead of the public parking areas. We spent the short drive to the parking garage in relative silence. I was praying I would not break any more of my bones in front of Link. I was pretty covered up so cuts and scratches were not on my worry list.
We parked, got out of the vehicle, and I put the goggles over the cap on my head. I slid my arms into my jacket, leaving it open in the front, and worked my hands into the gloves. Next came the hard part, the boots. I sat back down on the passenger seat and slipped my feet out of my comfy boots. I looked at the armor coated, hard plastic, ski boots with distaste as Link brought them over to me. He helped me work my feet into them and then loosely did all the clasps.
Then it was his turn, and he was done in mere seconds it seemed. “Amateur,” I silently scolded myself. He grabbed his skis and poles and then reached for mine as well.
“I can carry them,” I protested.
“So can I, and we will get there faster if I do. So, let’s go. Follow me,” he ordered.
I followed him, taking slow, awkward, heel-toe steps, which were all that was possible with these constraints on my feet. My self-consciousness was short lived, as I noticed everyone else was doing the same funny little dance of a walk. “Don’t fall,” I whispered.
Our first stop was to get lift tickets. I bought a Junior Season Pass, pulling out my driver’s license to show that I was, indeed, seventeen. The Adult Season Pass was more than triple the price – poor Link. Okay, maybe being a kid wasn’t so bad in this situation. We walked over to the cameras and posed for our pictures. As soon as the passes were printed they each went on a cord, and then around our necks.
From there we had to walk up a small hill to the top of Meadows. The entrance to Meadows frightened me. I warily looked down at a small slope that immediately got quite narrow as it went under a bridge. How was I going to make it through that on skis?
“We are going to walk down this part and put our skis on when we get through. Walk with your feet sideways. It will be easier, I promise,” Link explained and I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Lead on,” I responded.
As soon as we were out from under the little bridge the vast expanse of the Meadows came into view. It was very wide, very open, and I could distinguish that some parts were obviously flatter than others. Up until that moment, I had imagined it would be skis on, straight down, and don’t fall. But this was different. I had hope.
We walked over to the side, to keep out of the oncoming traffic, and Link began with a basic lesson, “This is what they tell kids – make a pizza slice with your skis and you will go slower - make fries with them and you will go faster. Don’t let your skis cross or you will fall, straight down. So if you are going to make a pizza or ‘plow’ as I call it, keep the tip of your skis slightly apart. And don’t look down, you’ll lose your balance.”
“How am I supposed to keep my skis from crossing if I never look down?” I complained.
“Brief glances, that’s all. To turn, you put pressure on the opposite foot of the way you want to go. Pressure on the ball of your right foot turns you left. Pressure on your left foot will turn you right. Never head into the tree line. Serious injury will occur. For now just plow hard to stop,” he said, finishing my very brief lesson.
He was trying to hurry this along. I could tell. I, on the other hand, was doing the opposite.
“That’s a lot of info. What if I forget something? Maybe you should go over it again.”
“I’ll stay right beside you. You’ll be fine. Trust me.” He flashed that smile at me and I could protest no longer.
Link helped me tighten my boots and get my skis on. When we were both fully geared up and ready to go he pointed to the right.
“That is a slower off-shoot of Meadows called The Peaks. It is extremely tame. We’ll start there.”
And off we went.
Weirdly, I found it nowhere near as hard as I had imagined. Link sped up just a tiny bit so he could turn around and ski backwards right in front of me. Showoff! As we made our way down the slope Link would shout out little instructions. “Straighten your left ski a little,” or “Press down on your right foot we are coming toward a curve,” and “Keep the skis straight for a minute we need to build up a little speed here.” The instructions kept coming and before I knew it The Peaks had joined Meadows and we were soon at the bottom of the hill.
We got in line for the ski lift, our passes were scanned, and I shuffled and maneuvered my way to the lift. It was a weird sensation, sitting and being lifted up all at the same time. My feet, heavy with boots and skis, dangled in the air. I gazed out at our surroundings and watched all the other skiers below us. You could see them whizzing down, falling down, and gliding down the hill. I was extremely proud of myself for making it, without the falling down part.
“Get ready, we’re coming to the end,” Link said.
“Oh no, what do I do?” I turned to him with panic filled eyes. I hadn’t anticipated the getting off part.
“Just keep your skis straight and stand up when your feet are firmly on the ground.”
I looked at him with little confidence. “Okay,” I squeaked. I watched the people in front of us, determined to copy their movements. My skis hit the snow and I stood up. I started to slide forward, but my feet wouldn’t move the way I wanted them to. I looked down, saw that my skis were crossed, I lost my balance, and then I fell. An alarm sounded behind me as the ski lift came to a halt. Link reached out his hand to pull me up.
When he was sure I was steady he grabbed my poles out of the snow and whispered in my ear, “It’s okay, everyone falls down sometime.”
“I thought I was doing so well,” I whined.
“You are, you’re doing amazing.” He smiled.
I managed to move out of the way, thanks to Link, and the lift re-started. My cheeks were burning. I was mortified. My humiliation deepened when I looked up and noticed Summer and Rusty waving at me, a laughing smile played on their lips.
“Told ya she’d be falling down,” Rusty whispered to Summer while keeping his eyes on me as he continued to smile and wave.
“Shut up, they’re coming this way,” she hissed back at him.
Sometimes I really wished my hearing wasn’t so sharp. I smiled and waved in return. Then we made our way over to where they stood, with one boot on their boards, one in the snow.
“Hey, guys, pretty smooth huh? Are Burke and Delilah with you?” I directed my question to Summer, too self-conscious from my fall to look Rusty in the eyes. His expression still scr
eamed, I told you so.
“They’re down there somewhere. We decided to do a couple of runs with them and then we’ll head over to lift four. Dee’s having a pretty hard time of it,” Summer answered me but kept staring at Link.
“Sorry... Manners... Summer, Rusty, this is Link. Link... Summer and Rusty.” I hurried through the introductions.
“Hey,” they both chimed at the same time.
“Nice to meet you.” Link smiled.
“You guys go on ahead, we’ll start in a sec,” I urged, not wanting an audience for my next screw-up.
“Okay, see ya at the bottom,” Summer waved goodbye and caught up to Rusty who had disappeared in a flash the second I’d dismissed them.
As soon as they were out of sight, through the narrow entrance, Link grasped my shoulders, “We’re going through that entrance. Just watch your speed like I showed you. We’re not going to do The Peaks this time, just Meadows. If you feel like you are going way too fast then turn and head back up the hill. That’ll bring you to a stop. Remember, I am with you.” He squeezed my shoulders and flashed me my smile.
“Okay, thanks for the pep talk. I’m feeling brave. Let’s do it.” I smiled back a little more confident now.
I dug my poles into the snow, pushed off, and skied through the narrow entrance. I plowed my way to a stop as soon as we came to a flat part. My face glowed in excitement. I did it. It wasn’t so hard. It was actually a little thrilling.
Link squeezed my arm. “That was pretty darn good.”
“Thanks, let’s keep going.”
We pushed off again and this time I was eager. The wind ripped through my hair and bellowed in my ears as I picked up some speed. Link came up from behind me, fast. He turned in front of me, circled around me, and then passed by me as I steadily headed downhill.
“Showoff,” I yelled as he turned his head and flashed a smug grin.
When we reached the bottom, I caught sight of the guys from school, and plowed to a stop in front of them. Delilah was sitting down in the snow, openly displaying one of her pouts.
“I’ve spent more time on my butt than on my feet. This butt is too cute to be abused this way,” she glowered at Burke.
“You’re absolutely right, Babe, but this was just your first run. It’ll get better. Give it some time.” Burke gave her a wary smile, hopeful.
“You,” she pointed at me, “how many times did you fall?”
“One,” I said.
“How many runs?” She demanded.
“Two,” I answered timidly, frightened by her expression.
“Eight times, one run,” she snapped.
I glanced over at Summer and Rusty in time to watch them turn their heads and do a poor job of trying to cover their smiling faces. They were truly amused by Delilah’s absolute frustration.
“But I’m skiing and you’re boarding. Don’t compare the two,” I offered, hoping she would agree.
“Come on, Dee.” Burke reached down to help her. She accepted his hand and, still pouting, he plucked her up out of the snow. Burke pulled her into his arms, enveloping her tiny frame in his immense hug. I watched as her expression changed from a disappointed pout to a contented smile as she buried herself in Burke’s embrace. He leaned down to kiss the top of her head and her smile widened.
“Jeez, let’s go!” Rusty exclaimed.
My second shuffle to the chair lift went much smoother. I glanced down below and wondered what a fall from such a height would do to a person. If someone were to lean just a little too far forward they would plummet to the ground. I secretly smiled at the thought of jumping down, landing all twisted and injured, and then walking into school on Monday as if nothing had happened. The shock value alone, to witness the confused horror plastered on the faces of the students and faculty, was tempting. But I knew I could never pull such a stunt. Even though it wouldn’t permanently hurt me, it would still hurt – and not just me physically, but everyone else emotionally. I pushed the thought out of my mind and watched all the empty seats pass by, making their way down to the waiting skiers. We passed an enclosed capsule with a man inside. He was scanning the slopes below.
“What’s that?” I asked Link.
“A gondola,” he answered, surprised by the question.
“Okay, Captain Obvious. I knew that. I guess I should have asked, what is it doing on the lift?”
“It’s for transporting the non-skiers, people meeting others at the restaurant down there, hikers in the summer, whatever,” he looked at me. “Have you been on any of the gondolas yet?”
“Actually, no.”
“How is that possible? You’ve been in town for almost two months,” he was clearly shocked by my admission.
“So take me,” I challenged him.
“Oh, I will,” he smirked.
We got off the lift and I stayed upright. Yay! During the next two runs I only fell one more time. My skis crossed again, this time halfway down Meadows. One ski came off, poles went flying, and snow invaded my gloves as I attempted to break my fall. I got up, brushed myself off, and with considerable help from Link, was soon on my way down again. At the end of that second run, Summer suggested lunch. We all agreed. At this point in the day, food was necessary. Skiing was strenuous work.
It felt marvelous to unbuckle the ski boots and more freely move my ankles. Sadly, the heel-toe shuffle was still necessary as we made our way into the restaurant at the base of Meadows. I shuffled in line between Link and Summer. She pushed her elbow into my side, and when I glanced at her she was sporting a cheesy grin. She wanted info. I mouthed, “Later,” at her and turned to the guy behind the counter to order a bread bowl filled with beef stew. The aroma of the warm stew made my body realize how ravenous I really was. My stomach grumbled, loudly, and Link looked at me.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Famished,” I answered.
We all sat down at one of the empty tables and I examined our little group. Delilah and Burke were leaning in toward each other. She was giggling at something he had just said. Rusty had one hand on Summer’s leg as he stuffed fries in his mouth with the other. Link sat next to me, silently eating. I wondered if he felt strange, sitting at this table with a bunch of teenagers. Why was he here? Why did I want him here so badly?
After lunch, Delilah proclaimed she was finished boarding for the day. Burke accepted defeat, and said he would take her home. Summer and Rusty said they were going over to lift four. They were tired of Meadows and wanted something faster and more challenging. Link and I said we were going to stay. I waved goodbye to everyone and Summer mouthed, “Call me,” as she left.
I sighed, happy to be alone with Link again. We spent the next few hours improving on my new skill. I loved skiing with him. He was an ideal teacher and with his patient instructions, I felt myself getting better with each run. My stops were a little cleaner and my turns a little smoother by the end of the day. Exhaustion started to take over just as the lifts were about to close. We took our skis off, loosened our boots, and made our way to the parking garage.
When we reached his vehicle I completely de-geared, which seemed to go a lot faster than the gearing up did. My feet were in heaven as I removed my armored boots and slipped them into my soft sheepskin ones. I wiggled my toes, “Wow! That feels amazing,” I said as I stretched my arms behind my head, lengthening myself in the passenger seat.
Link smiled at me as he entered the vehicle. “Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked.
“Very much,” I yawned as a day’s worth of hard exercise caught up with my now still body. “Thank you, you were the perfect teacher.” I smiled in return.
“I’ve got powers,” he teased.
“Awesome powers,” I agreed.
“I’m glad you liked it. Does that mean you’ll ski with me again?” he asked, uncertainty present in his voice.
“Does that mean you’d really want to spend another day babysitting me on the slopes? Wouldn’t you rather ski at your own level? I’m h
olding you back,” I worried.
“I can ski the harder stuff on my days off and during the week when you are in school. I’m getting a kick out of watching you,” he said with a laugh.
“Well I’m glad to be the source of your amusement,” I sulked, suddenly worried about being laughed at.
“That’s not what I meant,” he corrected me. “The way your face lights up when you’re getting it... I just love to watch it,” he paused, thinking, and then continued, “Honestly, I just like being with you. I’ve been alone the last couple of years. It’s not a good feeling. But when I am with you it feels right, familiar, comforting... Hell, I don’t know how to explain it,” he trailed off lost for words.
“I want to be around you too,” I admitted as I placed my hand on top of his, “and honestly, it scares me a little. I usually keep myself rather guarded around everyone, except my aunt and uncle. But when you are with me, my guard slips away without my being aware. I am more myself with you than I’ve been with anyone I’ve ever met, in any city I’ve ever lived, in a really, really long time,” I searched his face, his eyes, for a sign that he questioned my statement. I understood that it probably sounded a bit strange coming from the mouth of a supposed seventeen year old. But Link held his gaze steady and nodded his head in agreement.
We skied together all day Sunday as well. We were more at ease with each other the second day on the slopes. Laughing, teasing, talking, but again staying away from any conversation too serious. We just wanted to enjoy ourselves. I was more confident on my skis. It helped to know that Link was always close by, to lend a hand if I fell. My sunny happy day was overshadowed by a nagging cloud of doubt. How much longer could I keep pretending to be someone I was not, to this man that I was inexplicably drawn to?
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