Snow Angel (12 page)

He pointed out her side window. The water was already standing in deep puddles all along the side of the road, as well as on the road itself. Soon they’d need a boat to go any farther. The windshield wipers swished on their highest setting but barely made a dent in the heavy splatter.

“Hey, maybe the drought’s over,” Christian said hopefully.

“It’ll take more than one stupid storm, doofus,” Gabe answered. “Anyway, we aren’t in California anymore, it doesn’t count.”

Just when it seemed they’d have to pull over for a bit, the rain cut off like turning off a spout, and the winter sun sailed forth, glaring off the standing water in blinding swaths of light. A cheer went up inside the car.

After that, the weather dogged them intermittently, spitting snow, rain, ice, or a mixture of all three for long minutes at a time, with brief respites of sun. Melinda alternately napped and stared out the window. Whenever Mitch crept into her thoughts, she resolutely shut him right back out. A simmering anger for the way he’d treated her had overtaken the sadness. She welcomed its heat breaking the hold of the cold clutches of grief.

By the time they made it through the top northwest corner of Arizona and into Utah, the sky was darkening toward an early evening, hurried along by the low-lying clouds. As they started the climb up to Marshall’s Peak at last, the rain mixture turned solidly to snow, adding new inches to the already white-covered landscape, and they slowed their speed once again.

Finally, they pulled into the parking lot of the condo’s rental office. A collective sigh of relief wound through the vehicle.

They’d made it.

With all the delays, it was already past five o’clock. The trip had taken double the amount of time it was supposed to, but if they hustled through unpacking, Gabe informed them, they might still get in some night skiing.

They stayed in the car, waiting while the adults went inside to sign the paperwork and get the keys, and the snow continued to pile higher, snow on top of snow on top of snow.

“This powder is gonna
rock
,” Christian said, rubbing his hands in glee.

“Dude,” Wendell agreed, giving him a solid fist-bump.

“Man, I can’t wait to get out of this tin can,” Jacob said, laying his legs across Gabe’s lap to stretch their length.

“Get off, peewee,” Gabe said, shoving at him.

“Come on,” Jacob invited after he sat up. He patted his hands on his own thighs. “Your turn, big guy.”

Gabe waved him off, staring intently through the front windshield. “What’s taking them so long?”

“Patience, Jedi,” Christian said in a voice he evidently thought made him sound like a wise elder. He rubbed a hand on top of Wendell’s red head as though for luck. “Skiing doth come to him who waits.”

“Shut up,” Wendell said, and shoved him, so of course Christian shoved him back.

Somehow Jacob and Gabe got pulled into it, too, so that all four of them were half-standing in the car, making it rock, and laughing wildly.

“Knock it off,” Danny yelled suddenly, and everything stopped in mid-motion. He was staring at the rental office. “Something’s wrong, look.”

Sure enough, the grown-ups were exiting the building, hands waving, and speaking in a clearly aggravated manner.

“Oh, man, what now?” Jacob asked.

“Dude, this is the trip from hell,” Christian put in, his former powder-euphoria draining instantly.

Danny rolled down the window as Karen stomped toward them through the driving snow, letting in a blast of freezing air.

Her mother, usually so calm and collected, had a fighting light in her eyes that Melinda knew meant trouble.

Uh-oh.

“So,” Karen said, bracing her hands on the car door. “There’s a small problem.”

Everyone seemed to hold their breaths waiting to see what the next issue would be.

“We’re down one condo,” she said.

“What?” Danny looked around at Melinda as if asking her if it was true.

“Evidently, a water line burst early this morning and flooded four of the condos. They’ve been shifting people around ever since, but they’re sold out, so since we’re all one big party—”

“Yeah, exactly,” Gabe interrupted, “one
big
party. How are we all going to fit in two condos?”

“It’s not that bad, actually. There’re enough beds, it just requires some strategizing to get everyone settled. The bigger problem is we’re also down two bathrooms and a third kitchen, which, with sixteen people, means we’re going to have to be very cooperative with each other.”

“Awesome,” Melinda said, though not loudly enough for her mother to hear. She didn’t want that battle light turned on
her
.

Jacob heard her and gave the back of her seat a warning kick.

“Why the hell didn’t they call us to let us know?” Danny asked.

“They only had the house number for some reason—”

“What kind of—” Gabe began.

“Anyway,” Karen continued, overriding him and handing a sheet of paper to Danny, “here’s the map. We go up this way,” she traced her finger along a curving blue line, “and park in this garage here beneath the condos. We’ll figure out exactly where everyone is sleeping after we get unloaded. Melinda, since you’re a bit gimpy, how about if you get dinner started while the rest of us unload?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, then. Let’s move.”

Karen marched to her own car, the set of her shoulders the only evidence of her vexation. Silence descended inside the SUV as they followed Stan and Karen’s car to the condo’s indoor parking garage.

What a day.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The exterior of the multi-unit, two-story condo building wasn’t particularly remarkable. Covered in charcoal-gray siding and white trim, with a steeply pitched roof to encourage the snow to slide off, it had regularly-spaced-but-smallish covered balconies along the upper floor. It reminded Melinda of the barracks-style housing found on a military base more than a luxury resort.

Not that it mattered. In the distance, trails of colored lights snaking down the mountainside had already captured the attention of everyone in the SUV. No one would care about the condo as long as the slopes lived up to their expectations.

As they drove down the hill, curving around the side of the condo to the parking garage underneath, she glimpsed a wide, covered walkway running along the front of the building. Doors to each condo opened into the porch-like structure, which was open at both ends of the building and plenty wide enough for people to juggle their gear and put on their skis. Guests could then ski right out of the building toward the loading area for the resort’s shuttles, situated at the bottom of the far slope.

A group of people huddled there now, skis and snowboards clasped in their hands, waiting on the next bus. The shuttles would ferry them to the lifts and back, or to the main lodge, the small market, and other local points of interest.

The parking garage, on the backside and underneath the condos, was as nondescript as the building itself. At the far end, yellow crime-scene-style tape barred four doors, and orange traffic cones sat around a wide, icy patch covering the parking spaces directly in front of them. The water had evidently leaked out the doors of the flooded condos and frozen into a solid sheet on the concrete.

Danny shook his head when Melinda pointed it out.

They parked in the assigned stalls, and Nancy unlocked the doors to their two adjacent condos. Melinda grabbed three bulging bags full of groceries and headed inside the first door, trying not to limp, while the rest of the group organized the unloading.

A narrow staircase led straight up from the garage door. She navigated the steps carefully, taking one at a time, as it hurt to push up on her injured foot, especially with the added weight of the groceries in her hands.

Once at the top, the stairway opened into the condo’s laundry-slash-mudroom. That was a nice bonus feature—no having to truck loads of laundry to the main lodge if they needed to run a load, and it had room for muddy boots and for hanging wet snow gear to dry.

The laundry room sat directly across from a large, eat-in kitchen with a table big enough to seat eight. A breakfast bar fronting the kitchen would seat three more. Everyone else would have to spill into the family room to her right when the whole group got together.

The wood furnishings were simple but sturdy, the chairs covered in thick red cushions. The kitchen had a double oven, another plus with a group their size, a microwave, and an oversized fridge.

In the family room, the widescreen TV would keep the guys happy when they came in from the slopes, and the forest-green recliners and plushy couches looked comfortable with their massive pillows and mountain-cabin-themed upholstery in reds, browns, and greens.

Next to the front door, which would open onto the covered walkway she’d seen at the front of the building, a wooden, tightly spiraled staircase in the far corner led up to a loft area. It overlooked the high-ceilinged family room, where huge floor-to-ceiling windows opened toward the ski slopes, now blazing with light through the still-falling snow, ready for night skiing. From her vantage point in the kitchen, she could just make out the sliding-glass doors that opened onto their tiny outdoor balcony from the loft.

Melinda set the bags of groceries on the kitchen counter. Wandering the other direction, back past the laundry room, she headed down the short hallway toward the back of the condo.

On her left, a door opened onto the master bedroom. It had a king-size bed, a small private bath, and the same stunning view as the family room. It sat across from a storage closet big enough to house all their sporting gear.

The second bedroom, smaller than the master, and with the same incredible vista, was at the end of the hall across from the communal bathroom, which had dual-sinks and a glassed-in shower but not a lot of spare room.

She predicted fierce competition for shower time and hoped she wouldn’t have to share a bathroom with Rick. He always took forever.

Originally, she was supposed to share the loft sleeping area, which had twin beds, with Mitch. Now, between the reduction in bedrooms and Mitch’s absence, she had no clue where she’d be. Probably still in one of the lofts, since she doubted they’d have her share a larger bed with any of her cousins—they hadn’t done that since they were little. But who would be in the second bed?

Oh, she’d had plans for that loft. Snuggling up with Mitch and watching the snow drift down late at night while everyone else slept. Sharing long, slow kisses. Holding hands and talking about their hopes and dreams, their future plans, how much they loved each other.

Damn him
for ruining everything!

Scrubbing hard at the corners of her eyes to ward off the prickling tears, Melinda breathed deep and locked him back in the cell she’d created for him in her mind.

“I hope you’re happy back with Captain Crazypants,” she said out loud, thinking of Mitch with his ex, Christina. “You deserve each other.”

She couldn’t believe he’d gone back to
her
, of all people. Creepy, crazy Christina.

The one his parents hated.

The one who’d had an affair behind Mitch’s back six months ago, then had thrown the news in his face like a weapon during yet another one of their endless, blazing arguments.

The one who’d deliberately crashed her car into his brand new one when he broke up with her, sending both of them to the hospital for stitches, plus a cast for Mitch’s broken leg.

He’d gone back to the crazy one and dropped Melinda without a backward glance.

Bastard, bastard, bastard.

Shaking it off, Melinda went back to the kitchen to start putting the groceries away just as her mom came up the stairs with more bags.

“Here you go,” Karen said in a sing-song voice. Then she frowned, looking at Melinda’s face. “Are you okay?”

“Yep, fine,” she said, putting as much cheer into her voice as she could manage. “Hungry. I was exploring a bit, but I’ll get this rolling now.”

Karen studied her for another moment, then nodded. “All righty. I’ve got Jake and Eddie bringing up the coolers.”

Her mom went back for another armful, and Melinda got started on the dinner prep as the guys lugged in the heavy coolers.

With everyone helping, it didn’t take long to get the cars unloaded. They piled all the gear into the second condo, awaiting dispersal once they had their sleeping assignments.

Once the rest of the foodstuffs they’d brought were delivered to the kitchen of the first condo, it became abundantly clear that food storage was going to be their biggest problem, at least initially. Luckily, it was a problem that would resolve itself as items were eaten, so they decided, all in all, they’d gotten off easy, despite the reduction in space.

Melinda put the finishing touches on their traditional first-night meal of submarine sandwiches, chips, drinks, and homemade chocolate-chip cookies. After she had everything arranged for people to make up their own plates, all she had to do was get out of the way.

For such a large group, they ate mostly in silence, a few grunts passing as answers to requests for condiments or napkins.

Fatigue settled over everyone like a blanket, and the falling snow outside further muted any sound. Melinda’s eyelids were drooping by the time she’d finished her sandwich, and it wasn’t even seven o’clock, despite the hour time difference between California and Utah.

Reaching for another potato chip, she saw Danny surreptitiously swallow a couple of pills and frowned at him. He sent her a look to keep her quiet. Danny had suffered from migraines since he was a kid, but usually if he took his meds early enough at onset, he could head them off.

She hoped he’d caught it in time.

By tradition, it fell to the guys to clean up after eating, so the women gathered around the large dining room table to work out the logistics of getting everyone into the right beds.

“Okay,” Aunt Pat said, straightening from the table. “Here’s how it’s going to go. We retained the two biggest condos, three bedrooms each, including the lofts. The condo next door will sleep Allan and I in bedroom one, Nancy and Peter in bedroom two, Eddie and Gabe in the loft, and Danny and Rick on the pull-out couch in the family room.”

Her two eldest sons erupted immediately, complaining over the arrangements. Pat stared down her nose at them both, despite their superior height, and raised an imperious hand, silencing them with one fierce glance.

“Every two nights,” she continued, “we will rotate the pair on the couch with the pair in the  loft on the twin beds. If you don’t like your bedmates, switch it up.”

“But—” Danny started.

“I didn’t want to saddle Eddie with Rick,” Pat interrupted. “He’s your brother, you’re used to him.”

“Eddie’s plenty used to him, too,” Danny pointed out.

“Appreciate it, Aunt Pat,” Eddie said, giving Danny a smirk.

Melinda had to laugh. As Rick’s best friend, Eddie had had to bunk with Rick plenty of times in the past—as had they all at one point or another through childhood—and knew exactly what he was getting out of. Rick reached over to give her a pinch, but she evaded his grasping fingers.

“Fine,” Danny said, though his voice was less than conciliatory. “If Rick kicks me all night long, I’m dumping his ass on the floor.”

“He’ll dump me whether I kick him or not, Mom, you know he will,” Rick said. Pointing at his older brother, he added, “Watch the face, man. It’s my livelihood.”

Danny snorted. “Any lumps you pick up could only be an improvement.”

“Daniel,” Uncle Allan said.

“Just be glad none of you are paired up with The Cuddler,” Wendell put in, jerking a thumb at Christian, who made a rude hand-gesture at his friend, out of sight of his mother’s sharp eyes.

The other guys laughed, but Danny wasn’t done bargaining.

“Why can’t Rick stay in the loft bed by himself and the rest of us rotate?” Danny asked.

“Because I didn’t think it was fair for everyone except him to have to share a bed,” Aunt Pat said, “but if that’s how you guys want to handle it, it’s up to you.”

“Score,” Rick said, grinning.

Gabe placed a hand over Rick’s face and shoved. “We haven’t voted yet, numbnuts. Maybe we’ll vote for you to sleep on the floor. Problem solved.”

“Huh,” Rick retorted. “Maybe Danny’ll go on one of his nighttime wanderings, and I’ll get the foldout to myself anyway.”

“If I sleepwalk,” Danny said pointedly, “it’ll be in search of a weapon.”

“Mom,” Rick whined.

Ignoring them, Pat continued.

“In this condo, Karen and Stan are in bedroom one, Lois and Bill in bedroom two, Christian and Wendell are on the couch,” she spoke right over Wendell’s long-suffering sigh, “and Melinda and Jacob are in the loft on the twin beds.”

“We realize this isn’t ideal,” Nancy put in, smoothing a hand over her white-blond hair, “but we’re not going to be in the condos that much, really, we never are.”

“Exactly,” Peter said. “As long as we can work out the shower schedules, the rest is just eating and sleeping. It shouldn’t be too hard on anyone.”

Bill gave a roguish growl and squeezed Lois around the waist. “The wife and I can shower together and save a rotation.”

Lois batted at her husband’s hands, a flush rising on her cheeks. “Bill!”

“Dad, gross,” Jacob said, groaning into his hands and not looking at his parents.

“Now there’s an idea,” said Uncle Allan, waggling his eyebrows at Aunt Pat.

Drawing herself up to her full height, Aunt Pat said, “Don’t even think about it,” while all three of their sons clapped hands over their ears.

Gabe and Wendell kicked back on two of the dining-area chairs, ankles and arms crossed, obviously enjoying the fact that neither of their parents were present to get in on the act.

“My ears are bleeding,” Rick moaned. “I think my ears are bleeding.” He turned to Christian, his eyes wide and traumatized. “Are my ears bleeding?”

Eddie pointed at his parents and Melinda’s, who were all giggling shiftily. “Grown-ups,” he said. “Stop.”

“You’re no fun,” Stan said, grinning at Eddie but winking lecherously at Melinda’s mother.

Melinda blushed. Karen clicked her tongue with a
tcha!
sound and shook her head. Peter and Nancy exchanged a look no one had any trouble interpreting.

“I said stop!” Eddie repeated.

“All right, all right,” Stan said, waving them all quiet, his eyes still twinkling, “everyone know where they’re going? Grab what’s yours and take it to your rooms. It’s already after seven, so we’ll deal with the rest tomorrow.”