Right.Thiswas supposed to be something fun, if nothing else.Whenwas the last timeIwent away for a weekend on my own?Itwas a beautiful sunny day with plenty of fresh snow on the mountain, andIshould make the most of it.I’ddroppedPaigeoff at my parents’ house earlier, and they were all thrilled to spend some quality time together.I’dstayed for coffee and freshly baked banana bread before leaving and would have dinner with them whenIpickedPaigeup in a couple of days.
Iraised my chin and skied over to the lines whereVanHalen’s“PrettyWoman” cover blared from a speaker.WhenIwas paired up with a tall, handsome skier with graying hair at his temples and a dazzling smile, my mood lifted.Maybethis wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Behindus in line, a woman pointed out, “Theyplay classic rock at the chairlifts of every mountainI’veskied at inNewHampshirethis season.”
Aman with her chuckled. “Itmust be the official soundtrack ofNewHampshirewinter sports.”
Oncewe moved up the line,IhopedIwouldn’t do something disastrous like miss the seat, lose a ski, or any other mishapI’dseen with people simply trying to sit on a chair.
Ourturn.Imoved my butt into the chair.Polesstill in hand.Skison feet.
Success!
Oncewe ascended and pulled the bar down, he introduced himself asTom.
“Cassandra,”Isaid.
“Cassie.”Henodded. “Ilike it.”
Myshoulders tensed. “IpreferCassandra.”
“ButCassieis more sassy,” he teased and then laughed with far more vigor than was necessary for a bad joke.
“Still,IlikeCassandra.”Itwas my name, after all.Tomove past my irritation,Iglanced out over the mountains.Theview of snow-covered trees and glimmering snowflakes dancing looked almost magical.
“Whatdo you do?”IaskedTom.
Ibit my lower lip.Whilehe told me,Ihad better come up with my answer.TellinghimIworked in a network that helped supernaturals navigate the human world might not be wise outside ofSalem.Manyof the residents there didn’t give a flying fig about witches living in their town, and visitors considered us a tourist attraction.Butthere was a reason we provided services to help supernaturals travel underground, and that was because of humans.Theycould freak out and cause chaos.Theyalready did enough of that even to other humans.So, tellingTomthatIspent my days working on spells and potions or investigating forbidden magic might lead to an awkward encounter.
Itturned outIdidn’t have to provide any more info other than my name.Myone question provided all the incentive he needed to tell me how he worked as an investment adviser.Hetold story after story about his clients and their financial situations as if these were fascinating tales.Ithought they were as entertaining as counting the bristles in a broom.
Myleg twitched, causing my right ski to bounce up and down, soIforced myself to stop.Willingthe lift to move faster was as productive as waiting for a cauldron to bubble.
Oncewe reached the top of the mountain,Ipractically threw the safety bar overhead.
Althoughwe could have skied down the mountain together,Isaid, “Niceto meet you,Tom.Havea great day!”ThenIskied off, hoping he wouldn’t follow.
Hedidn’t.
Thatshort-lived “date” lacked more sparks than a fireplace doused by a firehose.Ishook it off and focused on the gorgeous scenery ahead.ThenIpointed my skis downhill, tried to remember proper form, and skied down an easy green trail.AfterImeandered to the bottom,Iheaded back to the lifts for round two.
Mynext date was...interesting.Hewasn’t as handsome asTombut appeared friendly.Heintroduced himself asJimmy.Hisvintage ski jacket had so many neon stripes that it appeared to have been resurrected from the eighties.
“That’sa unique jacket,”Ipointed out.
“Ah, yes,” he agreed with a smile. “You’llnever guess whereIfound it.”
“Avintage store?”Iasked.
“Nope.”Hiseyes gleamed with excitement.
Ithought flea market but didn’t know if that would offend him, soIsaid, “Igive up.”
“Thedumpster!” he declared with pride. “Canyou believeIfound this baby while dumpster diving?Youwouldn’t believe all the cool stuffIfind.”Heslanted toward me, causing the chair to bob, and my muscles tensed. “Ihave a collection of things,” he added. “Fromcoins to all kinds of tchotchkes.”
Iblinked slowly.Thatwas the strangest hobby to reveal to someone he just met.
“Oh, wow,”Isaid.Iwasn’t sure what else to add.Ipictured him living in a place cluttered with furniture and items pulled from the dump.
