Page 106 of Even After This
The death chair awaits us.
I stare at the ski lift for the longest time before Harlan places his hand on the small of my back and offers an encouraging shove in its direction. While we wait in line, my silence speaks for my fear.
Harlan brushes my temple with his lips and murmurs, “You got this.”
When it’s our turn, we awkwardly shuffle-sidestep-move over to the loading spot.
The altitude mocks my Texas lungs, and in spite of only moving a few feet, I strain for oxygen. “No matter what happens, I apologize in advance for injuring you.” I twist my torso to the outside, looking for the chair and bracing for the impact.
Once we swing out above the ground, I let go of the breath I was holding.
Harlan shifts in his seat. “You’re a pro. No harm during the takeoff.”
My eyes slide to his. “You aren’t out of danger. We still have to jump off this thing.”
I’m surprised when the gentle sway of the lift, the beauty of the mountains, and the solid mass of the man sitting next me coax my spirit into settling. Several minutes of silence pass, and my breathing slows.
“My family enjoyed meeting you.” Harlan holds out his hand. “Let me take your poles.”
“I’m excited about spending more time with them.” With laser focus, I release each pole to his possession. It would be my luck to drop one into the snowy abyss below. “I know I just met her, but Gracie seemed distant this morning.”
Resting the poles across his lap, he nods. “William said she wasn’t feeling well. She stayed at the bottom of the mountain.”
Not wanting to rock the chair, I keep my body facing forward but turn my head to glare at him. “If I had known that, I would’ve called Sally to go shopping. I’m sure she has enough sense to stay off this mountain. Skipping was an option?”
“Not for you.” He winks. “Besides, Spence and Sally are spending Christmas with his brother in Denver. We won’t see them until the twenty-ninth. And I should probably mention that Sally was a ski instructor in college.”
“Of course she was.” Sighing, I shake my head. “Why are you being so patient with me?”
Still holding the poles, he places his free hand over mine. “Because I’m proud of you.”
I roll my eyes.
“I’m serious.” He chuckles. “It’s hard to try something new.”
“Thank you.” As I hold on to the side bar, I throw a gloved hand out in the direction of the austere scenery. “I admit, it’s good to get out. The sunshine makes the temperature warmer than I expected. Plus, it’s gorgeous up here.”
“Dad and I had some of our best talks on ski lifts.” Harlan turns his head away from me and stares out over the mountains. “Ski lifts, the pasture, and the chapel on our ranch. I always knew I’d get something honest from him in those places.”
Still clutching the bar at my side, I reach with my opposite hand and squeeze his knee. “I wish I could have met him.”
His stare shifts to my hand, and he takes my palm in his. “Me too.”
Lifting our hands, I scratch the skin near my wool cap. “What was the best and what was the toughest part about him being your dad?”
Harlan’s gaze returns to the open air. “He was a man of few words. More like William.”
I shift my weight as far back in the chair as I can. When I’m sure I won’t fall to my demise, I release him and unzip my ski jacket. “Which part was that? The best or the toughest?”
He nudges me with his elbow. “Both.”
Grabbing a protein bar out of the inside pocket of my coat, I nod.
“When he was disappointed in me, he could level me with a fierce, convicting stare.” Harlan exhales a weighty breath. “If he actually spoke words, that meant whatever you had done was especially bad.”
My gloved hands do nothing to help me open the snack. I place the wrapper between my teeth and tug.
He slides a glance my way. “If you fall off this thing trying to open that, what do I tell the coroner? Death by protein bar?”
