The Christmas Sisters

“I know you love them. Talking of which—” Cheryl’s tone was casual as she leaned forward to ease off her boots “—you’d take them, right?”

“Take them where?” In front of them the sun was dipping down, beaming fire across the snow and ice.

“If anything were to happen to us. I’d want you to take the kids.”

Suzanne forgot about the sunset. “Me?”

“I don’t have family and neither does Rob. You’re like a sister to me.”

Sisters fell out, didn’t they?

Approaching the topic as cautiously as she had the glacier beneath them, she tiptoed over the thorniest issue.

“What does Rob think?” Surely she’d be the last person Rob would want caring for his kids.

“Rob thinks we’re invincible.” Cheryl picked up her tea again. “Look at that view.”

Suzanne was looking at her friend. “You’d want me to be their guardian?”

“They love you.”

“I love them.” Three kids. “As you said, I don’t know anything about parenting.”

“This is all hypothetical. Nothing is going to happen. Especially with you checking the snowpack and every crevasse.”

“Right.” Climbing with Rob made her jumpy. His lack of caution made her feel the need to be extra cautious.

Cheryl turned to her. “So would you do it?”

“Take the kids? Of course.”

Hypothetical.

She repeated the word as she lay that night listening to the wind battering the tent.

At 3:00 a.m. the following morning they made coffee and checked the weather. If they wanted to make the summit, they had to start early because they still had to climb four thousand feet of steep snow and ice up the heavily glaciated north face of Mount Rainie

r.

“Looking good,” Rob said as he heaved his pack onto his shoulders. “Let’s nail this thing.”

Suzanne led. The ice was hard and her calf muscles shrieked at her.

The mountain was quiet, but that did little to calm her nerves. A sleeping dragon was still dangerous.

As they paused to rest, she looked toward the summit.

“Lenticular clouds.”

Rob devoured an energy bar. “Looks like an alien spaceship hovering there. Not a breath of wind.”

“They’re stationary.” Suzanne narrowed her eyes. “A storm is coming.”

“Would you listen to yourself? A storm is coming.” Rob rolled his eyes. “We’re in the mountains, honey. A storm is always coming, it’s just a matter of when. In this case we’ll be at the summit and back in the valley drinking a beer before it hits.”

Suzanne felt her own temper flash. Don’t call me honey. “Read the weather, Rob.”

“Never been much of a reader.” He swallowed a mouthful and stowed his water bottle. “If there’s a storm coming, we’d better get started.”