“Anyway. . . Enough of the self-pity. Do you want to watch a movie tonight? Part of my ski-trip traditions is to watch a 1980’s ski flick. Unless you have an early morning. And, you are sleeping on the couch, so I don’t want to be keeping you up. . .” She trailed off, talking herself out of it.
“I’d like that. And, I have just the movie in mind.” I pulled out a favorite from my childhood. It was a movie that involved skiing and a mystery about a pair of missing skis and poles. The person who had them taken had to go down the ski hill on his rear end in order to get to the bottom. Very silly premise, but enjoyable and light.
During the movie, I found myself watching Presley see it for the first time. Her laughter, perfectly timed at the best parts, rang through the house. She peppered me with endless questions about the actors, about the filming location, but her passion for living in the moment was contagious. I found myselfretrieving my phone so I could look up some of these answers myself, when I saw I had several missed calls from my manager.
Apparently, the phone had been powered on, but the volume had been on silent. I wished I could have gone back to ignorance of the calls and returned to the movie with Presley, but with the Winter Games being tomorrow, I really had better see what was happening.
“Excuse me for a moment—I have to call my manager.”
“Want me to pause it?” Presley asked, Priscilla in her lap as she started looking around for the remote.
“No, don’t bother. I’ve seen this so many times that I know exactly what I will miss,” I said, walking into my office and closing the door so I wouldn't disturb her movie. Jack answered on the first ring.
“I hear you’ve been shacking up with a woman. Is that why I haven’t been able to reach you?” The tone in his voice sounded very judgmental.
“You got it all wrong. It’s not like that. . . But who told you that, anyway?” I asked.
“Billy. The delivery guy. I had him personally call me to tell me that the phone had been delivered. You don’t even want to know what I had to pay to get that thing flown in.” I groaned,knowing full well the bill would be passed on to me. The freedom of not having my phone had been so nice; I regretted that I had even signed for it now.
“Well, like I said. She’s just my neighbor. Anyway, what’s up? You don’t usually call me this late unless something is happening,” I pressed, wanting to take this conversation forward so I could get back to. . . Presley.
“Tomorrow is the Winter Games. Are you ready?” he asked, his voice still hinting at annoyance.
“Define ready,” I smirked. Jack was silent. “Yeah, I’m prepared. I just have an ill feeling about this cheating scandal and what it will mean for my competition. If someone wins, I want them to win because they are the best. Not because someone threw the race,” I said.
“Well, in that case, I have good news for you: The skijoring association has agreed to wipe the slate clean for those who have been suspected or accused of throwing races. But every single race is going to be monitored much, much closer with a full auditing team in place.” I was relieved to hear that.
“That’s great news. With these new parameters put in place, we can move on to a new generation of rules for the sport.” I felt overjoyed at the defined perimeters. I was blatantlyagainst cheating of any kind—it did not belong anywhere in sports. But now, we had formal rules against it and steps to ensure it didn’t happen.
“So, is your neighbor pretty?” Jack’s voice relaxed. I rolled my eyes. He’d always paid extra special attention to the ladies, as he was a lifelong bachelor who’d never been able to find the right one.
“If you must know. . . Her name is Presley. She’s just. . .” I paused, trying to find the right words to describe this incredible woman, “A lot—” Jack cut me off.
“Oops. Sorry, Ford. I’m getting another call. See you tomorrow.” Jack hung up.
“Okay, bye,” I said to the blank phone. I didn’t get to finish my sentence. I wanted to tell him that she was a lot different than anyone I’d ever met before. She was a godly woman, which was so refreshing. And she took extra care to ensure she lived intentionally in every way. As I reflected on these facts, I realized I was past the point of falling for her—I was in my feelings, deep. I considered my heart; was this a relationship from God? Saying a quick prayer about it, I realized just the fact that I was praying right now, again, was the biggest sign that it could be. This woman brought my hardened heartout of the pits of darkness, where I had been hiding from God, and back to the arms of Him.
For a moment, I thought about bursting through the office door and telling her how I felt. I wondered what she would say? Would my feelings be reciprocated? Instantly, I changed my mind; this was something that I wouldn’t do lightly. I had to know, for certain, that this was the woman that God wanted me to be with before I said or did anything about it.
Chapter 9: Presley
Ski, Pray, Misconstrue
I couldn’t believe what I had heard. All of my greatest fears came true at that very moment when I decided that I would pause the movie and wait for Ford to return. I wasn’t trying to listen in, but the open concept and his sky-high ceilings didn’t make it hard for voices to carry in this chalet. Plus, he sounded so joyful. I wanted to hear him happy; so, I may have slowed my breathing as I craned my neck. I may have ensured Priscilla stopped chewing on her toy for a moment so I could hear the happiness exuding from this brooding cowboy. But it was then that I heard the words.
“She’s just-—a lot. . .”All of my insecurities came rushing back to me. I was too much for men. I wasn’t enough of whatever they thought they needed to see me as wife material. It was devastating. I quickly un-paused the movie; I would act as though nothing had happened. I wouldn’t let Ford know I’d heardthose words coming out of his mouth. It was too embarrassing for me to know it, let alone if he knew that I had heard it? I wanted to save myself from that confrontation.
The room felt stuffy, which was impossible, because it was quite possibly the largest living room I’d ever been in if you counted its height. I needed to remove myself from this situation—to hide from Ford. To hide from myself.Lord, help me.
I scooped up Priscilla and the chew bone she was so eager to continue her masterpiece on and briskly went up the stairs. I made it right before I heard Ford open his office door again. He would have seen that I was gone by now, since the office went right into the living room. My heart ached at the situation. Here I was, thinking we were jiving. The past few days were a blast. He was opening up to me and sharing. We just had an incredible day on the slopes together—and a moment I thought was worthy of a kiss. And, we had a moment where I really thought we bonded over forgiving those who have hurt us.
No matter what I recalled from the day, I felt stupid. Silly.Insignificant.Not only was all of that in my head—Ford did not have feelings for me like I had shamefully thought—but right now, he was probably feeling relieved to be away from me. If only I had realized this sooner! I grabbed my phone from mynightstand and looked up hotels in the area. Turned out, the books had turned. Many cancellations likely happened since the roads were still closed, and one hotel was having a special deal for tonight. I could get out of Ford’s hair and let him have his bedroom back. I could leave Sage Mountain first thing tomorrow. I couldn’t click the “Book Now” button fast enough. It was done; all I had to do was quickly pack my belongings, and I would be out of this grumpy cowboy's hair forever.
There was just one problem: the roads were still closed. I looked at the local community digital bulletin board for the town, and it said the tentative opening date was tomorrow. Turned out, there was a problem with the fleet of trucks they used to plow the major interstates. Some sort of manufacturer recall, and since they were all brand-spankin’-new, bought by a local donor last winter to ensure something like this would never happen, they had no other vehicles to fall back on. I went to my knees and prayed.
“God, You sure do have a sense of humor. You have my attention; there is a lesson here I am to learn in Sage Mountain, and I’m all ears to find out what that is. Just please, Lord-—spare my heart any more aching. I don’t think I can handle this much rejection in one lifetime.”
Once my things were packed, I tiptoed down the stairs, holding Priscilla in one arm and carrying my roller bag in the other hand, and quietly grabbed her food out of the fridge, slipping it into my bucket bag slung over my shoulder. Ford, sitting on the couch, stood.
