The Christmas Sisters

Today that feeling was absent.

Suzanne hauled her pack onto her back. “Don’t you worry about the kids when you’re out in the mountains?”

“Why?” Cheryl frowned. “They’re with someone.”

“I mean if something happens to you and Rob. I would have thought it would make you more careful.”

“Nothing is going to happen to us except that you’re going to spoil a brilliant climb with your paranoia. You don’t even have kids, so what do you know about parenting anyway?” Irritated, Cheryl turned away and Suzanne felt hurt.

“Wait,” she called after her. “Cheryl, I’m sorry. Don’t be angry.”

“You called me a bad mother!”

“I didn’t—” Maybe she hadn’t said those exact words, but it was true she’d been judgmental. “You’re right that I don’t know anything about parenting. Can we start this again? This trip was supposed to be a treat. Relaxation.”

“You’re the one who is tense.” Cheryl walked away, leaving Suzanne feeling miserable and frustrated. There was an ache behind her ribs and the pounding of her pulse had nothing to do with the altitude or physical exertion.

She was aware of Lindsey and David trudging toward them. Thankfully they were slower and had missed the exchange.

On the Carbon Glacier, they roped up and navigated the crevasses with care and attention and Suzanne bit her tongue as Rob filmed the avalanches thundering down the Willis Wall.

They climbed through clouds, through deep snow that dragged at their boots and made muscles scream.

Occasionally Rob would slide back and let out a stream of profanities.

By the time they made their final camp at Thumb Rock, Cheryl was smiling again.

They dug out a tent platform, scooped up snow and boiled water as they ate their uninspiring rations. It was bitterly cold and the wind buffeted the tents.

“Sorry about earlier.” Cheryl adjusted the flame under the pan. “I guess we have different opinions on it.”

Suzanne didn’t say that these days they seemed to have different opinions on most everything. “Forget it.”

“Rob doesn’t believe you should change your life just because you have kids, and neither do I.”

Suzanne noticed how tired her friend looked. “How are the kids?”

“Posy is amazing—” A smile crossed Cheryl’s face. “Rob is right. She has it, Suz. She’s fearless and coordinated. We’re taking her hiking next summer. Rob thinks we could pack up and take a couple of months. It’s education.”

Rob thinks, Rob thinks...

“Won’t Hannah hate that?”

Cheryl turned off the flame and made tea. “Rob thinks it will be good for her. He’s bought Posy these little hiking boots. You should see them. She looks adorable. I have a picture on my phone. Remind me to show you.”

They had three children and the only one they talked about was Posy, Suzanne thought. “Did Hannah like the books I sent?”

“What books?” Cheryl frowned. “Oh yeah. Thanks, but don’t send her any more. Rob says it gives her an excuse to avoid exercise and physical stuff.”

Suzanne bit back her response. “And Beth?”

“Beth is a girlie girl. All she wants to do is put makeup on people and join the ballet. You can imagine what Rob thinks of that.”

Suzanne wondered why Rob thought he had to mold his children in his image.

Cheryl balanced her mug on the floor of the tent. “Can we stop talking about the kids? Today I’m me, and not somebody’s mom.”

“Sorry. I love your girls, and I don’t get to see them so much lately, so I like hearing their stories.” She often reflected on how ironic it was that she, who had always wanted a family, was still childless, whereas Cheryl, who had never seemed bothered, now had three.