The Perfect Holiday

“I don’t need your hell.” I laughed. “It doesn’t mean anything, besides the fact that she was pretty, and I am attracted to her.”

“Sure,” Glen said. “I mean, I chase down girls and think about them for hours because I’m just attracted to them.”

“Shut up,” I groaned. “She is not the typical girl. You didn’t see her. I can promise you, if you had seen her, you would have been bounding out into the snow after her, too.”

“No, probably not.” He laughed. “But I do wish I had been able to see you out there freezing your ass off, chasing a ghost of a woman through the snow. I have to admit, it warms my heart a little to know that maybe, just maybe, you aren’t a complete and total douche bag from hell.”

“Don’t count on it,” I said with a smirk.

We finished setting up everything just as the group of beginners made their way up from the bottom of the hill. One by one, we helped them off the lift, instructing them on where to go and how to set up for the class. Everyone had bright and shiny new gear, and most of them had bright and shiny new snowsuits. I was assuming neon was in fashion these days because the class looked a bit like a group of highlighters in the snow. The only exception were two girls, and I could only tell they were girls from the shape of their bodies, standing in the back row. They were completely bundled up from head to toe, including shaded goggles for the sun. At least their outfits were neutral colors. Otherwise, the brightness of it all might have blinded me. I looked over at Glen as he looked over the troops, shaking his head and lifting his shoulders. As usual, he started the class out, and I stood by, lifting up gear as we explained each piece and the purpose of those pieces.

“So, this is the latch that you will slip your boot into,” Glen said, holding up the boot. “Don’t do it yet. Just watch. We will get to all of it very shortly.”

The girls in the back were struggling to bend over or grasp anything because they were dressed like the little boy from A Christmas Story. I tried my best to hide my smirk and chuckle as the shorter one almost fell over, reaching for the taller one and nearly taking them both down. They looked so ridiculous bundled up like that, but I assumed they were probably from somewhere warm and had been bamboozled by the local shops into buying everything in the store for their probably one trip down the bunny slope. It must be nice being that rich that you can spend that much money on completely unimportant items of clothing, just to never wear them again. At least they didn’t have their cellphones out, not that they could press the buttons with the thickness of the gloves that they were wearing.

The wind had died down a lot since the day before, and I felt like if I had been bundled up like they were, I would be sweating to death by now. However, I guessed that I was used to the frigid temperatures, and some even worse. I can vividly remember a time where we were hired by the National Park service to come out for a week straight and give safety lessons to skiers who trekked to Denali to brave the natural slopes. It was definitely the most gorgeous place I had ever skied, but damn if it wasn’t bite through your jacket cold out there. After the first day, I had them take me to the closest town to get a temperature-rated coat and snow pants. That was what these girls looked like, except their movements were going to be very restricted because of all the layers. At least if they took a fall, they would just roll down the hill and not get injured.

When it came time to help everyone with their movements, Glen sent me over to the overstuffed girls, laughing at me as I tried to help them through their clothing. The short girl was hopeless, and had gone into full out laughing mode, sitting down in the snow and telling me to just help her friend. I shook my head and laughed, trying not to make them feel silly.

“What are your names?” I asked.

“I’m Hailey,” the one on the ground said.

“I’m Bea,” the tall one replied with a giggle.

“Are you girls from California?”

“No.” Bea laughed. “Believe it or not, we are from Colorado. You would think with the way we are dressed that we had never felt cold weather before.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to say anything.” I chuckled.

“At least I won’t be cold when I go inside,” she said, a smile in her voice, though I couldn’t see her lips at all.

“All right, show me how to put on your skis,” I said, standing back.

She slipped her feet right into the latches, but grunted and giggled as she strenuously bent at the waist and clicked the straps in place. She then stood up and grasped onto the poles to keep her balance. We went through several different motions, her arms going in all the right places. She was actually pretty good at this, and I was a little surprised they were taking a beginners’ course.

“So, have you girls skied before?”

“Maybe when I was a kid,” Bea said. “Believe it or not, we live in a ski town, but work is so crazy, and until now, I didn’t have skis.”

“Oh, well, what do you do?”

“I’m a writer, a ghostwriter actually,” she said.

“What is a ghostwriter?”

“I write books for a publishing company, for authors that aren’t actually authors but want to publish a series of books,” she explained. “I sign my rights away to the material, and then the client purchases it.”

“That’s interesting,” I said. “I didn’t even know that was a thing.”

“Apparently,” Bea said, laughing.

“All right, Hailey,” I said, reaching down and helping her to her feet. “Your turn.”

&nb

sp; Hailey was a bit more challenged by bending over, and her movements were a little jumbled, but they were good enough to make it down the mountain without breaking her neck. At least, I hoped they were. Part of me was curious what Bea looked like, since she sounded really sweet and probably around my age. However, her full-on mummy suit kept me from seeing more than her cheekbones, which was unfortunate, or fortunate, depending on the way that you looked at it.