The couch really does sink when I sit down. I am greeted by the smells of old leather and cinnamon candles.
For a while I just listen to the fire and the clock ticking above it before I hear the owner’s steps again. She appears behind the counter, phone still at her ear. “Of course I’m taking my vitamins. All good. Love you, too, sweetheart.” There’s a smile on her lips as she puts the phone back down. “That was my daughter, Aria. She’s studying in Rhode Island. At Brown…”
“Oh, wow. That’s…really good.” I rub the tips of my boots together and wonder why she’s telling me. What am I waiting around for? “You must really miss her.”
“I do.” She sighs again. She casts a glance at the phone, drums her fingers on the counter, then walks over to me. I notice she’s limping. “Aria is full of life. She’s such a positive person. Sees the best in everything and… You haven’t tried the chocolate?”
“Oh!” Surprised by her quick change of topic, I sit up with a start. “No, I…”
“You’re missing out. Here, take a whole handful and put it in your pocket. The nougat balls are the best in Aspen!” Before I can say anything, she’s tipped half the bowl into my jute bag. “Hard to believe how little you’ve got with you. If Aria were to get a look at you, she’d die. Well, better for you.” She shrugs. “Less to carry to your room.”
“My room?”
“Why I called my daughter. She’s fine with you sleeping in herold room. But beware: for years Aria’s sworn a marten’s been up to all manners of mischief under the floorboards.” Her eyes twinkle. “I can’t let you freeze to death out on the streets of Aspen. What kind of headline would that be? And in high season of all things!”
“Oh my God.” My knees begin to tremble in thanks as I spring up from the couch and reach for the woman’s hands. “You’re saving my life. Really. God… Thank you! I don’t know how to thank you.”
She runs her hand through the air. “Find the marten.”
I let out a laugh. It sounds wild and raw, not like me at all. But after the last twenty-four hours, it doesn’t surprise me whatsoever.
“I’ll lure it with your chocolate,” I say, making my way behind her. “My name’s Paisley, by the way.”
“Ruth. Be careful with this step here; it creaks. This here is the floor with the guestrooms, and through this door,” we came to a dark wooden door with a brass handle at the end of the hall, “you’ll come to where we live.” Ruth hands me a key before turning her own in the lock. We step into a corridor decorated with bright-colored pictures. She points to a log ladder at the end of the hall. “Up there is where your room will be for the next little while if you’re up for a work exchange? I don’t like to rent in the family quarters but I can use the help. High season, like I said. It’s yours as long as you need it. You can help me with the food and the guestrooms. When something opens up downstairs, we can switch to a rental if you want. Whatever you want to do.”
My heart is pounding even though we’re only talking about a room. But, for me, it feels like a milestone. Another step I’m taking into my life, the one thatIwant, the one thatI’mcreating.
“Thank you,” I say again, yet I feel as if it’s not enough. “I’d love to help out with the guests. At the moment… I’d really like that.”
Ruth smiles. “Of course, sweetheart. And stop thanking me all the time. Here in Aspen, we help one another. Get used to it.”
I’d rather not. Getting used to something means becoming careless. And carelessness can lead to horrible things.
Horrible, horrible, horrible.
I shake my head to chase off the images. I smile at Ruth instead. “And would you happen to know where I might be able to find a more permanent job?”
Ruth runs her fingers through her graying hair. “Let me think. A few après-ski bars downtown and on the slopes are looking for help. Maybe you’ll get lucky at Woody’s, too. That’s our local supermarket. And, hmm, hold on a sec…” She tilts her head. “You’re a figure skater. In shape, right?”
I nod.
“Then you can give the southern slope a try. The young up-and-comers need an endurance coach. Well, no idea if they still do, but you can give it a shot.”
“Thank…”
Ruth lifts her hand to interrupt. “Don’t you even finish.” Instead of letting her hand sink back down, however, she keeps it there. The amused look in her eyes disappears and turns sad. Her fingers caress the soft skin next to my right eye and wipe the strands of hair out of my face—a soft, comforting gesture, but I flinch as if she’d hit me.
“You’re safe here,” she says softly. “In Aspen you’re safe.”
I hardly took a moment to inspect my new temporary room. All I noticed was a dream of rustic wood furniture, string lights, and a whole mess of decorations before I jumped into the shower and hurried back out the door.
Ruth’s map of the slopes in hand, I step out of the little bus that took me right to Snowmass Mountain. I study the colorful image with all its descriptions until I find the little symbol of the Aspen Ski & Snowboard School.
“Hey!” I hear a voice call out next to me. I look up and into the face of an older man whose dark beard looks almost white from all the snow. He points to the gondola. “You want to come along?”
I stomp through the snow toward him. “Will that take me to the Aspen Ski & Snowboard School?”
“Of course. Hop off at the second station; you’ll be right there.”
