I raise a hand, cutting her off. “It’s fine, I’ve got it. Go get him.”
She knits her brows. “I just really need money, especially now that we're headed to the doctor. I don’t want to give up the extra hours.”
I unlock the drawer at my desk as she speaks, and pull out a couple hundred-dollar bills from a zippered cash deposit bag, walk over and shove it in the front pocket of her apron.
“Lerana, really, don’t worry about it—I shouldn’t have asked you to come in, you’ve already got a full plate. Go be the awesome mom you are already!” I shoo her out the door and grab my own apron hanging from the coatrack in my office.
She’s raising Jack on her own, thanks to a no-good piece of scum that’s reminding me an awful lot of Daphne’s fiance.
It takes a village, and as someone who never had one, I’ll cherish the village I have now and pay it forward as much as I can.
“Thank you,” Lerana says quietly, her eyes getting misty. “This means a lot, you know.”
“Oh stop it, you big softie,” I scoff, both of us knowing that I’m the soft one. It takes a lot to get such an emotional response from my best friend.
She takes it as her cue to exit and leaves me running the bar. It’s late, and a weeknight, so I don’t expect there to be many guests there. My breath catches in my throat, though, when I see the sole customer sitting sadly at her barstool.
It’s Daphne, and she’s swirling the cherry around her pink drink with a black bar straw, sniffling.
“Hey there, stranger!” I say more loudly than I would have liked. I can’t help myself, there’s just something about her that piques my excitement.
She starts, dropping the straw into her drink, and red-rimmed eyes shoot up at me.
“You really keep catching me off guard, don’t you?” she says, swiping her hand under her eyes, catching a tear as it falls down her cheek.
“I don’t mean to…are you okay?” I know that skeezy little turd of a human must have done something to her.
“I’m…” She pauses and looks around. “I’m just feeling a little out of my depth, you know?”
“With skiing or something else?” There’s obviously more to her story than just not being great on the slopes. “Because don’t fret about that, I told you I’d help you and I meant it.”
“Heh, I guess that’s the question, isn’t it? I think I mean everything, though. The wedding, trying to fit in with Gerald’sfamily, and god, even skiing. You know we came here because no one acquainted with the Van Kleeth family could see me learn. We literally have the family ski trip in Vail in one month. I want so desperately to fit in with them. I don’t even know why I’m trying, they all know I’m white trash.”
Should I feel strange that this literal stranger is offloading onto me? Because I don’t. I just have the overwhelming urge to help her, however I can.
“Woah! Absolutely not, we’re not shit talking ourselves—knock it off.” It’s a gut reaction, and I fear it may come across a bit harshly, so I do my best to smooth it out. “Can I ask if you even want to learn to ski? Or better yet, why would you want to be with someone who doesn’t like you as you are?”
Her eyes shoot up to me, wide as saucers, as if the concept of someone loving her for her is a foreign one. She absentmindedly fiddles with the giant rock on her hand, spinning it around her finger.
“Because I want a family, never really had one of those.” Her face drops at the same moment my own does.
Family—I have a found one here in Hallow’s Cove, but snowmen aren’t known for cohabitation. Mothers set up cubs in a cave with enough supplies to make it through the first winter on their own before they leave. Only the strong survive, and our population numbers show it. I’ve never met someone like me, beyond my mother, and that was 27 years ago.
“Gerald gives me a chance for that, and even though I’ve had to put academics on hold, I want to make a go of this. Who knows how many more chances I’ll have with someone who's willing to love me?” Her voice cracks, and I can’t help myself from placing my hand over hers. I know that pain, though I’ve tried to bury it deep.
Daphne’s voice catches in her throat, but she doesn’t move her hand. We lock eyes, and I want to tell her that she’d be so easyto love. I deflect, because it’s easier, because she’s not mine—and that fact suddenly stings.
“That’s a big one, looks heavy,” I whisper before trailing my furry fingers gently over her own before retracting my arm behind the bar.
“Heavy, that’s a good word for it.” She cradles her palm against her chest, her brows knitting as she takes me in—like she’s trying to figure me out. “Why did you offer to teach me for free? Gerald has plenty of money to pay you, just so you know.”
“I didn’t like the way he was treating you,” I tell her honestly as I busy myself cutting citrus, needing something to keep my hands busy so I can suppress the urge to touch her again. What’s going on with me? I’ve never been like this with a woman before.
“He’s not a bad person,” she says, almost like she’s trying to convince me and herself at the same time.
Before I have a chance to argue with her, to convince her she deserves better than that schmuck, the devil himself walks in. Though his cheeks are rosy and you could write that off as an effect from the blustery weather tonight, I can tell by his movements that he’s fucking sloshed. From where though, I’m not sure. No one is running the gondolas to town this late, so there’s no way he managed to get down to the town bar and back up to the lodge. He certainly hasn’t been drinking at my bar tonight, either.
“Gerald!” She straightens before rushing to his side as he nearly trips over a chair in his path. “We should get to bed,” she says calmly, pulling him toward the front door.
