And he takes mercy on us. He gives me water, makes toast. He sits both of us on the couch while he watches us eat. When we’re done, he puts his arm around me, and I lean into my big brother’s shoulder, Caleb on my other side.
“How could she be engaged?” I mumble, over and over again. “How the hell can she get married?”
When I wake up, I’m on the couch, a sleeping bag draped over me, a trash can nearby. Caleb’s on the floor inside the other. I’m twenty-two, so my hangover is gone with a cup of coffee and when Levi comes in, he’s merciful enough not to say anything.
I never go back to the Whiskey Barrel, but that night, I go out alone to a different bar. I buy a woman a drink. Her name is Allison, and she smiles at me, laughs at my jokes, and at the end of the night she takes me home with her.
She’s the second woman I’ve ever slept with, and I’m amazed at how easy it is. Later that week, I do it again: Natalie. Then again. Then again.
It doesn’t fix what’s wrong with me, but at least I’m good at it.Chapter FortySethPresent DayDelilah comes to a hard, full stop, her skis scraping the snow beneath them.
Ten feet later, I finally halt, feet in full pizza position with my toes in and heels out.
“You doing okay?” she asks, pushing of her poles and gliding up to me, then stopping with no fuss at all.
“Great,” I tell her, and try for a charming, winning smile. “You having a good time?”
“We can head back if you want,” she says, pulling her goggle from her face, a smile around her eyes. “You seem like you might be done.”
She’s right. We’ve been skiing since the morning, and the sun’s now hovering over the mountains, all of Snowpeak, West Virginia bathed in light that’s still more gold than orange for now.
It’s the second time I’ve been skiing in my life. Growing up, I had four brothers and there was no money tree in the back yard, so the one and only time I’ve been was for a friend’s birthday in college.
Skiing is hard. I’ve fallen down more times than I can count, have a bruise blossoming across one knee, definitely did something funny to one elbow. I run and lift, so I’m usually prepared for physical activity, but muscles I didn’t even know I had are begging me for mercy.
“How about I head back and you do a few more runs?” I offer. “You’ve been babysitting me all day, go have some fun.”
“I wasn’t babysitting!” she protests, laughing. “You made it down that intermediate slope all by yourself, you’re doing great.”
“I lost a ski halfway down, and after you got it back, it took me four tries to get back on my feet,” I point out.
“That’s because getting up is the hardest part,” she admonishes, gently. “Aside from getting off the lift. I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve had face-planted doing that.”
Well, it was zero this trip. I, on the other hand, skiied into a tree and fell over the first time I got off a lift while four-year-olds zipped past me like they were born to it.
“Go,” I tell her, nodding back at the mountain. “I’m going to shower, grab a beer, and get in the hot tub. Come join me when you finish.”
“Seth, are you incentivizing me to make it fast?” she laughs.
“Just saying I’ll be slippery and wet when you find me,” I say, lowering my voice. I am, after all, literally surrounded by families.
“And disappointingly off-limits,” she teases.
“Says the woman who brought a white tank top to sleep in,” I remind her.
Delilah’s eyes crinkle, her goggles on her forehead. Except for her eyes, her face is deathly pale with some sort of specialty sunscreen, and she looks a little like a strangely-colored raccoon.
Still fucking gorgeous, for the record.
“I didn’t mean to,” she says. “I thought I brought an appropriately black, oversized shirt, but I’m pretty sure it’s still on my bed waiting to be packed.”
No matter what she intended, she still wore a white wife-beater to bed last night, over rainbow pajama pants. Yes, it was practically see-through. No, she didn’t wear a bra to bed, and yes, I think I deserve a gold medal for self-control.
“Ski a couple black diamonds and then come find me,” I tell her.
“All right,” she says, and offers herself for a kiss.
The moment our lips touch, I slide away.
“Fuck!” I mutter, trying to maneuver my feet into a triangle.
“Use your pole!” she says, and there she is, gliding alongside me.
I jab one into the ground and come to a stop. Then I give her a look, and she closes her eyes, laughs.
“Right here, with all these people around?” I say, low enough that no one but her can hear.