Page 104 of Even After This
Gracie’s blank eyes glance to me when she takes my hand, then she turns. “Boys, come say hello to Meredith.”
Two young guys looking through a storefront glass at a snowboard display turn at the sound of their mama’s voice. The sight of them takes my breath away. The taller one shares his mother’s blue eyes and his dad’s lighter hair. But the younger one... The younger one is the spitting image of Harlan. Dark eyes, dark hair, and a very familiar gleam in his smile.
“Clark here is thirteen.” Gracie loops her arm through her son’s.
“Ma’am.” He makes eye contact while he shakes my hand, thus defying the reputation of aloof teenagers.
William grips the other boy’s neck and gives a gentle shake. “This is Scott. He’s ten.”
Harlan’s clone offers a more bashful “Ma’am,” then he turns. “Hey, Uncle Harlan.”
“Hey, man.” Harlan completes a complicated high-five-turned-handshake-turned-pull-in-for-a-hug thing with Scott.
Clark repeats the same ceremony with his uncle and says, “I was hoping Alex could join us on the mountain this year.”
I slide my gaze over the group. What are they thinking? She’s three. I’m thirty-six, and I think I’m too young to ski.
“Yeah, I know. It’s not my year for Christmas with her.” Harlan claps his hands together. “I know you all want to hit the slopes, so here’s an overview of the day. You guys go do a warm-up run while I get Meredith situated with her rentals and find her ski school. After that, I’ll join you. Later, we’ll meet up for lunchwith Meredith and then enjoy the rest of the day together on the mountain.”
“Uncle Har, when we race Cimmaron this year, I’m gonna kick your—”
“Language, son.” William clamps a hand on Clark’s shoulder.
Harlan winks at his nephew. “You wish.”
William opens his map of the resort, and Harlan, Gracie, and Clark circle around to plan slope runs and meeting spots.
Scott hangs back with me, glances up, and catches my eye. “I heard it’s your first time to ski.”
“Yeah.” I offer a shaky smile.
He steps toward me. “Are you scared? I was really scared my first time.”
I bug out my eyes at him and nod.
“I brought something for you.” My new best friend pulls a Sharpie out of his blue Columbia jacket pocket. Before I understand what’s happening, he grasps my right hand, yanks down the glove, and writes a bigRin the flesh between my thumb and forefinger. When he’s finished, he repeats his actions with my left hand, labeling it with a ten-year-old, wobblyL.
“Uncle Harlan said you might be nervous. He did this for me when I learned to ski. I had a hard time remembering which way was which.” Scott offers me a somber nod. “That should help.”
I am completely in love with Scott.
I am also completely in love with Harlan.
Which is why when I study this precious boy, almost the exact replica of the man I am dating, something deep inside me aches. Placing my hand just under my collarbone, I rub the spot over my heart.
Harlan doesn’t have any sons. No one to pass down his family name. Is that something he wants?
From me?
“Ready to tackle the mountain?”
Harlan’s enthusiastic words jostle me out of my thoughts, and I shift my gaze to his.
Am I ready for the mountain? I answer with the word that is repeating on high volume in my head.
“No.”
Dream big.Harlan’s last words before he abandoned me at ski school a while ago. It’s not an exaggeration to say that small children are skiing circles around me. Dream big?
