Carpe Diem (23 page)

“But, if I …”

“Kyle, no. I know it will be hard for you but you cannot blame yourself.”

“I’m so sorry for my part in your loss. That is why I left the card at Jack’s grave, and that is why I tried to stay away from you.”

“The card was from you?”

“Yes. I hate that I played any part in your pain.”

The dots are finally being connected and it all makes sense. The pain I always saw in his eyes, the brush-offs, the odd way he avoided any details about his wife.

Kyle and I stayed on the phone another hour or so. I think it was helpful for him and in a small way it was helpful for me. In the end, I did let him know that although I still do not blame him, I wasn’t sure what kind of friendship we could have, now knowing how we are forever connected. I assured him that if he needed me, I would always be here for him, and that I wished him happiness before telling him good-bye.

I may not be able to forgive Helen for what she has taken from me. Maybe one day I will. However, today is not that day.

I suppose I should be mad that Kyle didn’t tell me who he was in the beginning. Who knows, if he had I might not have been able to hear him. I might not have been able to share my grief with him. In a strange way I’m glad I got to know him before I knew who his wife was. Knowing why she was there and knowing a little bit of her story, in a small way, helps. She wasn’t just a woman being vain about how she looked for another normal day of work or shopping. She was a woman who was trying to save her marriage.

W
hen Flynn gives
me the letter for my next adventure, I’m not sure I give him the response he is looking for.

Dear Piper

The weather might be frightful but it will be so delightful as we frolic in the snow. Okay, that is about the best rhyme I can come up with. Today we take a trek up the hill to try your hand at skiing. Now don’t be scared, because I will be there, you are going to do just fine.

Flynn

“No way, I’m too old for that!” I tell Flynn.

“Come on, I will be right there.”

“I’m going to break something.”

“You’re right, you will probably break a hip or something,” he jokes.

“Hey, I’m not that freaking old.”

“Then stop acting like it and get it the car.”

“Fine, let me grab my stuff.”

The fresh coat of snow we got last night made today the perfect day for my next adventure. I get to ski. When I was in high school, I used to drive to the ski hill and would imagine how fun it would be to give it a try. Then spring would come, telling me I missed my chance for that season. After Bryna was born, we never had the money or the time to try something so dangerous.

Okay, so it is not super dangerous. Nevertheless, when your bank account is as broke as a
twig that Big Foot stepped on
and there is a larger potential for a small injury causing an emergency room visit that would add to your already financial strain, things like this no longer become an option.

However, now that those old excuses no longer hold water and since it was on my list, I have no choice but to follow along with this latest insane Carpe Diem adventure.

Waking up three weeks ago to find that I had both kissed Flynn and made him stay to cuddle with me, I would have thought it would make a day like today rather awkward. On the contrary, the drive to the ski hill is filled with teasing digs at one another and we are not holding back.

After talking to Kyle I called Flynn. I finally understood why Flynn reacted the way he did. He was looking out for me. He told me about me kissing Kyle. He had assumed that it meant more than me being drunk. When I explained that we had only been friends and that I ended the friendship, I could hear the relief in his voice. I could tell without a doubt how worried he was and that it weighed heavily on him.

“Okay, you ready for this?” Flynn asks.

“As ready as I will ever be I guess,” I answer with hesitation.

“You will do just fine. If you can jump out of a plane, you can slide down a hill on sticks.”

“Yeah, right. We will see about that. At least with the skydiving there was someone attached to me in full control.”

We both exit the car and make our way to the warming house to get fitted for our equipment. The area is alive with people. The new snow has them all excited. It’s funny to see this many people excited by the weather. I am a summer person and tend to hibernate in the winter like most sane people do from November to March. I love to sit cuddled up in the warmth of my house with a cup of hot cocoa and a good book or movie to keep me company.

We enter the large warming house that is crowded with people warming themselves in between runs down the slopes.

Flynn leads me to the shop where I assume we will pick up our ski equipment. When we enter the shop, it is full of everything you could ever need or want for this insane sport. The back wall is lined with skis and snowboards. The center is filled with jackets, snow pants, and head gear. Other shelves are scattered around with other supplies one would need to hurl themselves safety down a snow-covered hill. Idiots.

As we make our way to the counter, the white-haired man looks up and greets Flynn.

“Mr. Avery, I thought we might see you today,” he says.

“We couldn’t ask for a better day for a beginner,” Flynn responds.

“This must be Piper.”

“Yes, hello.”

“I’m Henry. It’s so nice to meet you. I have heard a lot about you. I hope you enjoy your day on the hill. Let’s get you set up.”

A short time later, Flynn and I are covered in more gear than I could have ever expected. Between the thermal layer, fleece layer, and the outer layer, I’m surprised I’m able to move. To my surprise, it is actually pretty flexible.

We move over to the ski equipment next and Henry set us up with skis, helmets, goggles, boots, bindings, and poles.

“Okay, you should be all set. Detter should meet you on the bunny hill for your lesson,” he tells us and points in the general direction to get us to the bunny hill.

Grabbing our stuff, we head outside and start walking the trail signs that will lead us to the bottom of the bunny hill.

“Detter?” I whisper to Flynn as we walk.

“I guess. I’ve never met him.”

“We are getting lessons from a guy with the name Detter? He sounds like a pothead high school kid.” I laugh.

Then I hear a voice from behind me.

“Nah, I always thought hippy lettuce was a waste of time.”

I turn to see a very attractive, tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed man. I give him an embarrassed smile and turn back to face Flynn.

“Don’t worry, happens all the time. My parents were hippies,” he tells us.

“Hello Detter, I’m Flynn and this judgmental ass is Piper,” he says, holding back a laugh.

My jaw drops in shock at Flynn’s words. In retaliation, I punch him on the arm and give him a dirty look.

“Ow, that hurt,” he cries out.

“Oh stop being a baby. I didn’t hit you that hard.” I laugh.

Detter waits for us to finish our dramatic scene and then leads us toward a conveyor-belt-looking thing that will take us to the top of the small hill. A few feet away, to the right of the belt, is an area people use to get their skis on.

Detter guides us to the “prep area” and has us each set our skis down parallel to each other. After scrapping off some snow on the bottom of our boots, he instructs me on how to attach my boot to the sticks of death, I mean skis.

“Okay, did you hear that click?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“Good. That means you are locked in and ready to go,” he tells me.

“Oh goody,” I say sarcastically.

“Now, before we go up I want you to get a feel for the weight and the movement of the skis. Go ahead and slide them back and forth. You can also pick them up and move left to right if you feel comfortable,” he instructs.

After a few minutes of playing with my balance and trying to get a feel for these things, Detter tells me I’m ready to go up the hill. We make our way to the belt. Flynn goes up first so Detter can help me.

Looking down the hill, it doesn’t look too incredibly terrible, and with the number of kids that are going down with no problems at all, my fear subsides a little.

“Now, to start I want you to keep your skis parallel and use your poles to give you a little nudge.”

I do as he says and get a gold star for execution.

After about ten minutes of continuing to practice on that, he teaches me how to pizza. A move named because of the pizza slice shape your skis make when you shift the back of your skis inward, forcing the front to spread wide, he explains this is to help me slow down.

Once Detter feels I am ready, my next stop is the bottom of the bunny hill. With both Flynn and Detter close by my side, we slide down the hill at a slow yet steady speed. My heart is pounding. I can feel the adrenaline coursing through me. When we arrive at the bottom of the hill, they each give me a high-five and up the belt we go for another run.

Three hours later, I have a hard time believing I was nervous about this. I graduated to the green hill, and I’m feeling pretty confident at this point and feel I’m ready to try the blue hill.

Flynn and I jump on the lift and wait patiently for our off point. This has been an awesome way to spend such a wintery day.

We are a few seconds away from getting off the lift when my pole gets caught on something. I’m working fast to try to free it before I can tell Flynn he is hopping off the lift while I am forced to stay on.

“PIPER, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” he yells to me.

“MY POLE IS STUCK, I WILL RIDE IT BACK AROUND,” I yell back.

“NO YOU CAN’T! YOU HAVE TO GET OFF AT THE BLACK DIAMOND, DO NO GO TO THE TOP! WITH OR WITHOUT YOUR POLE GET OFF…” Flynn’s voice is getting softer and softer at the end. I can see he is still yelling and pointing but I can no longer make out he is trying to say.

I watch as he turns and starts down the hill. I only have a few moments to try to get my pole lose before I have to get off. Flynn was pretty adamant that I get off on the next hill so I better do what he says.

“Finally!” I yell when I free the pole.

I’m right in time to see the warning sign to prepare to get off the lift at the black diamond. It took a lot longer to get to this next hill then I thought it would.

I glide off the lift and maneuver over to the start point. Looking down the hill from here, I damn near shit my pants.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I say to myself.

The hill is much steeper than I thought it would be. The people flying past me from the double black diamond hill above are going at a speed I have not achieved yet.

“I’m going to get killed. No freaking way, I can’t do this.”

I walk over to the lift attendant. There has got to be another way to get off this damn hill.

“Excuse me? Is there another way of going down the hill?”

“On your skis or on your butt,” he tells me as he keeps his attention on the lifts.

“I’m sorry?’

“Only two ways you can get down from here, on your skis or sliding on your butt,” he explains again.