Half the projects in the company could be more efficient, more effective, if I were the one organizing them. And then I would have plenty of time for family—if I could just influence work to be a bit more time-efficient. There’s no doubt in my mind. But every time I send an email detailing inefficiencies, the replies are vague, dismissive, or nonexistent.
“Right now?” I ask, and the line goes deafeningly silent on the other end. I can see Don’s face—surprise, amusement, melting into disappointment.
“Unless you’d rather I loop someone else in on this one…”
“No. I’m already out the door.”
It’s true. I’m standing on Kirstin’s porch, shivering, staring out into the opposite yard where some precious little kids all bundled up in their snow suits are sledding down a particularly steep and spacious backyard.
My heart squeezes, and for just a moment, an image of me, in my own coat, laughing as my kids sled down a hill, flashes into my mind.
“Great.” Don’s voice draws me out of the vision, and I shake my head, like I can physically clear it away.
When I go back inside to say goodbye, the twins are sad but mostly distracted by their toys. Kirstin gives me a tight-lipped smile and pushes a goody bag into my hand.
As I tuck myself into my car, which is still slightly warm, I turn up the radio and turn down the street, eyes flitting to the sledding kids.
Someday, that life will be mine.
Just as soon as I square away my professional life, I can slow down and be the mom in the snow.
CHAPTER 3
EVAN
Ilove spending time with Gramps, but the quiet calm of the cabin is the balm to my soul whenever I return from town. And I can’t wait to get there tonight, settle in, and make some chili.
With the snow coming down as heavily as it is, I’ll barely make it out of town in time. Leticia Gates catches me in the general store, her bony hand on my arm as she asks after Gramps. Every time I see her, I can hardly believe how old she’s gotten, her hair white now, her smile just as broad but with far more wrinkles around the corners.
Back when I was in high school, she was the secretary, sometimes the back-up librarian.
Now, she’s retired and spends most of her time hanging out in her granddaughter’s flower shop. Or being in the right place at the right time to delay me on my way back to my cabin.
I tell her that Gramps is doing fine, that I’m doing fine, and ask her if she’s going to make it home okay. She thanks me and says her grandson is coming to pick her up at any moment.
And outside, while loading up my truck, Carp finds me.
River Carpenter is the current mayor and head of the town council. Tall, the kind of guy that might be called a hipster if he wasn’t so damn down-to-earth. Tattoos up and down both of his arms, a pair of aviators under his maroon beanie, his thick, green wool coat instantly recognizable around here.
“Hey, man,” he says, first clapping me on the back, then reaching down to grab a bag of salt and haul it up into the back of the truck. “How are you?”
“Good. Don’t need help, Carp.”
“Course you don’t,” he says, hefting in the next item. “How’s your grandpa? Heard Beverly paid you a visit.”
“So that was a setup.”
Carp’s grin only grows. “Hell, man, can you blame us? Ever since Wilbur had that fall, the project’s been dragging. Nobody around here has the skills to do what you guys do.”
I bite my tongue to keep from giving in. If I say yes now, I’m only going to suffer in the future. Unless I can sneak into the site in the middle of the night and make progress alone, which is not a suggestion I’ll even make. Carp will definitely have something to say about insurance and liability if I do.
“You’re right,” I say, closing the bed of my truck and turning to look at him. “I can’t blame you, but I’m still saying no. You have any other jobs that need doing, you let me know. But I’m not up for this one.”
Carp sighs and follows me around to the driver’s side of my truck, waving to me as I hop in. Before I pull away, he points at his temple, making athink about itmotion.
I nod, even knowing I won’t be thinking about it, and start the long, careful drive up the side of the mountain.
I shouldn’t have stayed in town for as long as I did. The roads are already starting to get bad. Luckily, I know every turn and curve of this mountain road. I know the valleys and smooth parts, where the guard rails disappear and leave nothing but a steep, tree-filled decline below.
