Fireside (32 page)

Bo felt ambushed by Kim and AJ. They rushed around, borrowing gear from Noah Shepherd, who had plenty to share and no sympathy at all for Bo’s aversion to snow and cold. In Noah’s sloping yard, Bo and AJ learned the rudiments of snowboarding, which only added to Bo’s apprehension and AJ’s excitement. On Saturday, he leaped out of bed, making enough noise to rouse Bo even before the sun, and by nine in the morning, they were among the first to arrive at the ski resort.

There was something called a chairlift that scooped up the skiers and snowboarders and transported them, against all laws of physics, up the side of a frozen mountain. Bo felt as if he was being lifted up to be dropped into a volcano. Saddle Mountain, which looked so quaint and picturesque when viewed through the window, now appeared as forbidding as the frozen mountains of Middle Earth, in
Lord of the Rings.

Bo turned to his two companions, who were chattering away with excitement and looking around at the scenery. They acted as though this was a kiddie ride at Disney World.

“We’re going to die,” he said. “You know that, don’t you?”

“Quit being a baby,” Kim scolded. “You’re not going to die. I won’t let you die.”

She looked crazy beautiful, even in the unfamiliar getup of a snowboarder. AJ looked pretty cool, too, in an outfit and equipment borrowed from Max Bellamy. As for Bo, he felt a deep distrust of this whole process. There was nothing natural about it. For the chairlift ride, they each had one foot fastened to a snowboard, the other dangling free. Kim promised when they reached the top, they would fasten the other boot in place, which made him even more apprehensive. But he kept his mouth shut because of the expression on AJ’s face. For the first time since his arrival in Avalon, the kid looked animated, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

“It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?” Kim said, as AJ twisted around to check out the valley below.

“Yeah, it’s like we’re flying,” he said.

“When the day is clear like this, you can see all the way across the lake. That’s the main part of town there.” She pointed out the toy village clustered at one end of a vast field of white. “That’s the square, and you can see Blanchard Park. There’s a puff of smoke coming out of the skating house. That’s where people go to warm up and rent ice skates.”

Do not promise him ice-skating.
Glaring at her over the boy’s head, Bo tried to telegraph the message to her with his eyes.

“Ice-skating is really fun,” she went on, either oblivious to or willfully ignoring Bo’s glare of warning. “Your dad and I will take you skating soon, maybe tomorrow.”

“Cool,” said AJ.

“You think you’d like that?”

“I doubt he would,” Bo said.

“I’d definitely like to try,” AJ said.

“You bet,” said Kim.

“No way,” said Bo.

“Come on,” she said, “it’s really fun.”

“That’s what you said about snowboarding, and so far, I’m not having fun.”

“You haven’t even tried it,” AJ insisted.

“I’ll be glad when this is over.”

“It’s gonna be great,” AJ insisted.

Kim sent Bo a look of triumph, then resumed her guided tour. “At the very far end of the lake is Camp Kioga. Meerskill Falls is open for ice climbing this year.”

“Ice climbing?” AJ perked up yet again.

Oh, geez,
thought Bo.
Ice climbing?

“When a waterfall freezes, it creates a thick wall of ice.

That’s where we did the photo shoot. I’m told it’s a great way to climb, fun and challenging. I’ve always wanted to try it.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

They both regarded Bo expectantly.

“Sure,” he said. “I can think of no better way to injure myself right before my first major-league season.”

“The town has a winter carnival,” Kim went on. “I’ve never been here for it, but I’m told it’s a big event.”

“I was here for it last year,” Bo volunteered.

“What was it like?” asked AJ.

“Hell—heck—I stayed inside where it was warm,” said Bo. “They have ice-hockey tournaments, stuff like that. Oh, and there’s this insane race—an Iron Man triathlon. Noah does it every year. It involves snowshoeing, dogsledding and cross-country skiing.” Bo shuddered.

“Dogsledding?” AJ’s eyes lit up. “You mean, like in the Iditarod?”

Kim nodded. “Mush, and all that. I bet Noah would take you and your dad.”

“Forget it,” Bo said.

“Excellent,” AJ said.

“Man, for a kid who doesn’t like sports, you’re sure interested in trying a lot of them,” Bo remarked.

“So can we go dogsledding with Noah?”

“We’ll see.”

“Heads up,” Kim said, lifting the safety bar. “We’re near the top. Now, remember what I showed you about getting off the lift. Just step off and slide away from the chair. Ready?”

No,
thought Bo.

“Yes,” AJ said, leaning forward.

“Here we go.” Kim put her arms around AJ and helped him glide smoothly off the chair lift.

Bo fell on his ass. “Hey,” he wailed. “This sucks.”

“You’ll be fine.” Kim extended her hand to him. “Get up and let’s get our boards on.”

A few minutes later, they had fastened their booted feet onto the snowboards, and they stood together at the top of the slope. It was marked with a green sign.

“Green means this is the easiest way down,” Kim explained.

Bo regarded the long, forbidding incline with gut-clenching dread. “The way I see it, the easiest way down is with those guys.” He gestured at a toboggan being towed behind a snowmobile.

“That’s the ski patrol bringing an injured person off the mountain,” Kim said. “You don’t want to leave like that.”

Bo still wanted to leave. Yet one glimpse of AJ’s face reminded him to keep his mouth shut. The boy’s eyes shone. There was no other word to capture that bright, intense glow of interest. Maybe Kim was onto something here. Here was a chance to connect with AJ, give him something to like about this place. And maybe even about his father.

“I’ve never stood on top of a mountain before,” AJ said. “It’s like being on top of the world.”

Kim took a cell-phone picture of him. “You
are
on top of the world. Come on, guys. Let’s go snowboarding.”

All around them, skiers and snowboarders zipped past, seeming to coast down the hill. Bo and AJ spent more time on their butts than on their boards. There was a silver lining, though. In order to help Bo get up on his board, Kim spent a lot of time clutching him around the waist, trying to hold him upright. Eventually, they reached the bottom. Bo yearned to call it quits, but it was no use—she made them ride the lift back up and do it all over again. And again.

AJ picked up the basics fairly quickly. “Hey, check it out,” he yelled on the third or fourth run, easing down the hill like a surfer in slow motion. “Hey, it’s working.”

“How come he picked it up so fast?” Bo demanded, frustrated.

“He’s got a lower center of gravity. That helps,” Kim said.

“Yeah? What’s going to help me?”

“I will.” She grabbed his waist, coaching him until he managed to keep his balance. She was stronger than she looked, manhandling him into position. She coaxed and guided him down the hill, showing a patience and forbearance he hadn’t known she possessed.

“Hold me tighter,” he said as they made their way to the bottom. “I don’t want to fall.”

It was too late, though. He was already falling. The snowy surface raced up to meet him, gathering speed. He and Kim went down together, hitting the ground in an explosion of fresh snow.

AJ didn’t exactly laugh aloud, but he couldn’t keep the amusement from his eyes. “You look like the abominable snowman,” he called, laughter flowing behind him as he glided down the hill.

“I’ve been trying to make him smile for days,” Bo said. “Turns out all it took was wiping out in a snowbank.” He felt a lump of snow slither down his neck. “This is humiliating.”

“But worth it,” she said, offering her hand to help him up.

“Why? Because I get to grab you?”

She rolled her eyes. “No. Look.”

At the bottom of the hill, AJ was talking to some kids his age. Bo forgot his misery for a moment as he watched them laughing together.
Laughing.
Bo didn’t think there was anything sweeter in life than seeing your kid laugh. Friends could make all the difference.

The boys were still hanging out when Bo wobbled to a halt near AJ. “I made it down again,” he said. “All in one piece. But you beat me by a mile.”

“Uh, yeah.” AJ’s smile disappeared. Clearly, he wasn’t sure what to do in the situation.

Bo took off his goggles. “Bo Crutcher,” he said, greeting the kids. “And this is Miss Kimberly van Dorn.”

The boys introduced themselves. Bo couldn’t tell whether they were more impressed by the fact that they were talking to Bo Crutcher or by the fact that Kim was a world-class looker. One guy, Vinny Romano, declared himself a die-hard Hornets fan. “I went to every single home game last summer,” he said. “You had an awesome season.”

“Thanks,” said Bo.

“I came to your pitching clinic,” said another boy, whose name was Tad.

“You did,” Bo confirmed. “I remember you. You’re a lefty like me. AJ’s a southpaw, too.” At the moment, he felt like giving these boys a generous tip, because they made him look good in front of AJ.

“These guys were going to take me up the other chairlift,” AJ said, gesturing at the longer lift. “And then over to the half-pipe, where you can do tricks and stuff.”

Bo was dying to say no to that. Kim gave him a look. It was remarkable how much she could convey in a single look.

“I’ll be careful,” AJ promised. “I’ll keep my helmet on.”

“Meet us at the lodge when the lifts close,” Kim said. “We’ll be by the fire, relaxing.”

“In fact, we were just headed there now,” Bo said.

“We’re not.” Kim bullied him toward the chairlift again. “We’ve got two more hours before they shut down the lifts.”

He tried not to groan aloud. “Okay, see you,” he told AJ. “Be careful.”

As AJ and the boys headed for the last line, Bo heard one of them say, “That’s your dad? Man, you’re lucky.”

Kim gave Bo a nudge. “Hear that? His friends think he’s lucky.”

“I wonder what AJ thinks.”

“He’s warming up to you,” she said. “Especially after today. I can tell.”

She worked him like a ranch dog for the rest of the afternoon. She was the most relentless of coaches, pushing him, yelling at him, praising him, scolding him. After each fall, he made a big show of rising to his feet, making certain he grabbed her and held fast for longer than was necessary. Damn. She felt so good in his arms, he was almost grateful for the outing. Almost.

Eventually, he was able to ride down the slope without mishap. He couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “I feel like I just pitched a shutout.”

“Good for you.” She high-fived him, but refused to let him rest on his laurels. “Let’s try the other chair.”

“Let’s try a cold beer by the fire.” He gestured at the lodge, so friendly-looking, with its glowing windows and puffing chimney.

“Ha. You’re on a roll, Crutcher. I’m not letting up on you now.”

“Media training and now this. What other tricks do you have up your sleeve?”

“Let’s see, ice-skating, tobogganing, snowshoeing…”

“Forget I asked.” He gritted his teeth and endured another chairlift ascent, longer and steeper than the other. This side of the mountain had more challenging runs.

“You want to see me dead,” Bo accused.

“I’ve never lost a client yet. Not to snowboarding, anyway.” She gave him no time to worry or talk himself out of taking on the intermediate slopes. Besides, there was this invisible but huge element in play—his pride. With dogged determination, he forced himself to conquer the hill. And somewhere between the bone-jarring wipeouts and soul-numbing cold, he actually learned how to ride a snowboard, and it started to be fun in a way he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

“Look at you.” Kim clapped her mittens in excitement. “You’re snowboarding.”

He dared to try a little more speed. In his mind, he was like the Silver Surfer in comic books—confident, agile, effortlessly graceful.

“AJ’s over at the half-pipe,” said Kim. “Let’s show him what you’ve learned.”

They found the boys taking turns on the engineered slope. It was a gully carved out of the snow, designed to facilitate airborne turns.

“Watch this!” AJ called out when he spotted them. With his friends calling encouragement, he surfed the half-pipe, taking a spill or two, but managing a couple of clean, sharp turns. He wobbled as he landed, but stayed upright.

Bo felt a crazy kind of pride. “That’s my boy,” he said.

“Yes, it is,” she agreed.

“My turn.” Before he lost his nerve, he went to the edge and teetered there.

“Go for it,” AJ called, his voice echoing through the pipe. “Come on, you can do it.”

Bo took a deep breath and watched Kim demonstrate. She made it look effortless and fun, looping back and forth, from one side of the U-shaped trench to the other. To Bo, there were few things more attractive than a woman who was good at sports. Growing up, his crushes had always been for woman athletes—Gabriela Sabatini, Jackie Joyner-Kersee. Kim easily qualified for membership in their club, because she was fearless and good at what she did. Best of all, she was close enough to touch.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself over the edge and down the slope of the half-pipe. Instantly he knew he had miscalculated his aim. Instead of gliding down one bank and up the opposite side, he slid down the middle of the pipe, gathering speed by the nanosecond. Vaguely, he could hear warnings being shouted, although he couldn’t make out the words.

He was going faster than he’d ever gone without the benefit of an internal combustion engine. If he crashed now, he would break every bone in his body. He needed to figure out how to slow himself down. In desperation, he tried the weight-shift move Kim had shown him and, amazingly, he turned, diverting his relentless downhill run. Now he was headed up the steep side of the pipe. The steepness would slow him down like a runaway truck lane off a freeway.