Page 26 of On the Slopes of Tahoe
“I mean, not in so many words, but kind of. I don’t blame him. I’m not you, and I shouldn’t have tried to be. I haven’t really spent much time with them in the past week, not wanting to crowd him. But now that you’re here, it’s a little awkward being pushed back together. I don’t know how to give him space and be around him.”
“I’ll talk to him. I doubt he was—”
I cut him off. “No, Wes, please don’t. It’s fine, really. He’s going through enough and he needs you to be there for him.”
“Yeah, but I need to be here foryoutoo.” He says it quietly, and I can hear the sadness behind the words. He knows how much I miss him. I know he misses me too. And he misses his friend. It’s hard all around.
“He needs you more than I do. He’s the one who could use his friend, so I’m glad you’re here.”
“Rory.” His voice is soft and placating, but I don’t want his pity.
“Really, it’s fine. I’m going to go to bed.” I carefully put weight on my foot and am thankful there’s only a dull ache as I take my first step toward the stairs. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Okay. You sure you’re good?”
“Yep. I always am.”
I continue my slow limp away and only just hear him when he says, “Yeah, but you shouldn’t have to be.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Breck
Wes and I head up the chairlift on the backside of Empyreal, a cold wind cutting across our faces. It’s just the two of us as Willow is taking one more half-day lesson and Joss is down there with her, taking a lesson of her own. Wes—smart man that he is—told her something along the lines of “I want to get married in nine days, and you might not want to marry me if I try and teach you.”
Lessons have been a godsend for Willow over the past week. She gets more confident with each one, more comfortable withthe skills they’re teaching her. There hasn’t been a single tear shed, nor any complaints. Not even when she finishes class and I take her for a couple of runs. She’s a natural, just like when she surfs, and I love that. I love that she and I can share this sport, the way my parents shared it with me.
“Man, this feels good,” Wes says with a sigh, tipping his helmeted head back to look up at the blue sky.
“Yeah, it does. This mountain is quickly becoming my favorite place. No wonder you love it here so much.” I can see now why leaving for good was such a big deal.
“It will always be home in a way. But Sydney feels like it’s really mine, you know? I was born to love Tahoe, and it will always have a special place in my heart. But Sydney… It’s the home I choose, with Joss.”
I sigh, looking over to where the lake sits in the distance, an expanse of blue surrounded by steepled mountains of grey and white. “Sydney’s always been home, at least it has been since my aunt and uncle moved me to live with them after my parents died.” Wes knows all about my parents, and while Aunt Tracey and Uncle Bill passed before we met in college, he’s heard me speak about them plenty over the years. “But I don’t miss it as much as I thought I would. Plus, it feels tainted somehow.”
I look at my friend and his lips are pulled down at the corners. If not for the goggles, I know I’d see his furrowed brow as well.
At his silence, I say, “We have just over a month left here, and part of me is already dreading the idea of going back.”
He gives me a solemn nod, and I know he’s taking every one of my words and rooting to the core of them. “Have you heard from her?”
His question lands like a punch and I’m thankful our chair reaches the top of the mountain at the same time—our movement to get off covering my flinch. I don’t answer, feigning preoccupation with strapping into my board as my mind reels.
I haven’t heard from her. Part of me hates that, hates it for Willow, that Talia really could just write us off and walk away so easily. But I’m also glad for it. It would be harder to have her be one foot out the door. If she wants a clean break, then so do I.
“No, I haven’t,” I finally reply. Then I take off down the mountain, letting the snow cover the multitude of feelings I have rushing through me.
I don’t want to relive the moments of that last phone call, in the wake of her leaving. I didn’t expect her to call me back, not after all I said.
I fly down the run, my board cutting through the soft powder like it’s butter, and the torrent of memories floods my mind.
I pace the living room, listening to each long ring like it carries me toward a cliff I’ll fall over as soon as she answers. But she doesn’t. Instead, it’s just her voice, melodic and soft. “This is Talia, leave a message,” followed by a resoundingbeeeep. I breathe against the phone and have to swallow back all the emotion.
“Talia. Please call me. Please. I don’t understand. Willow doesn’t understand. Please, don’t do this. Don’t leave. We can figure it out. We can find a way to make this work. I don’t…” My voice breaks and I swipe a tear from my cheek. “I don’t understand. Please, Talia. I don’t want this for Willow.” The emotions surge and anger starts to beat out the rest as I continue to speak into the void. How dare she not answer the phone. She didn’t even attempt to have a conversation with me before leaving, and now this. “Talia, you’re better than this. We’re a family, and you can’t just walk out on your family. Dammit. You can’t do this.”
I pull each breath through my constricting throat, and it physically hurts. My hands shake, and I want nothing more than to throw the phone across the room, like I did the lampin my office last night when I found her letter telling me what she’d done. That she’d left—with Drew—and wasn’t coming back.
“It’s not just about you and me, Talia. What about Willow!? And what about the turnover of the business… You’re just going to walk out on our obligations and expect everything to transfer over to the new owners smoothly? You’re a coward. You’re a bloody coward doing this. I’ll never forgive you for this. Willow will never forgive you for this.”
