It wasn’t about ego anymore; it was about fulfilling dreams. Big ones.
She took another drink of cider before abandoning the mug to the table and joining her parents at the almost-bare tree. Someone had strung twinkle lights around it earlier, and the pinpricks of white amongst deep green reminded Rachel of the tapestry of winter stars that peeked through the forest skyline. So different from the city, where lights sparkled and shined too, but with a manmade luster.
It truly was different up on this mountain. Life was different here. And so was the air, which made Rachel wonder if that elevation was getting to her head. She shook hers.
“I’ll get started on this box.” She squatted low, lifting the brown lid to the box on her left. The ornaments and decorations that looked up at her from their cardboard confinement nearly had her rolling her eyes. Of course, she would choose this box.
“Are those what I think they are?” Paula sidled up behind her daughter to peer over her shoulder.
Rachel’s stomach churned. “They sure are.”
Each salt-dough ornament mocked her with childish paltriness.
“I can’t believe you made one for each contest in the Christmas Competition you had going with that Hart boy.”
That Hart boy. Rachel snickered, wondering how she’d never fully recognized her overwhelming immaturity until now. Until a box of ornaments called her out a decade later.
Paula’s hand dipped into the box. “Oh, remember this one? You made this for that snowman building contest back in…what grade was it again?”
“That was freshman year, I believe,” Stewart supplied. “Yep. See the date right there?” He lowered his glasses and read the year etched into the back of the handmade ornament.
“And this one.” Paula took out another. “The year you and Holden competed for ice hockey champion. That was a fun one.”
A fun one, until the moment the puck met Rachel’s mouth, nearly knocking loose her two front teeth, not something she wanted to include on her Christmas wish list that year. Still, she grinned, absently running her finger over her bottom lip.
Her parents continued riffling through the box and the memories continued filtering back with each trophy-like ornament.
“Whatever happened to Holden?” Rachel broached, curiosity bubbling up within her as each recollection surfaced.
Paula and Stewart exchanged an indecipherable look that had Rachel’s gaze ping-ponging between them.
“He’s still around,” was all her father supplied.
There was more to it than that, but neither offered anything other than to shut the lid on the box, slide it to the back behind the others, and open the next carton of keepsakes.
Rachel wanted to ask more, but it was as though her curiosity was trapped within that box too. When her parents began pulling out new ornaments to hang on the tree, she joined them, leaving questions about Holden in the past, right where they belonged.
CHAPTER6
Holden was more stuffed than a Christmas goose crammed with all the holiday fixings. His mom always made sure there was enough food on the table to feed a small army, and while he and his dad could pack it away, the amount of leftovers bordered on embarrassing.
Even Scout couldn’t clean it all up.
“Once again, I’ve over prepared.” Jill pressed the lid to the container to seal the contents inside, then passed it to Holden.
He stacked it in the refrigerator like a carefully constructed game of Jenga. One misplaced carton and the entire Tupperware structure would come crashing down.
“Before you leave, let me pack up a bag for you to take to the boys at the shop for lunches this week.”
“I’m sure they would appreciate that.”
Most of the time, lunch breaks consisted of beef jerky, an apple or other easy-to-eat fruit, and a soda from the vending machine. It was always a grab-and-go sort of situation, their hectic schedules leaving little time to prepare, much less enjoy, a home cooked meal.
“How are things going at the place?”
“Really good, actually.” Holden closed the fridge and turned around to lean against it. “We just approved our new storefront logo, so we’ll actually have some signage soon. And we’re looking into hiring another guide. It’s become almost more than Lance and I can do on our own, which is a good problem to have, I suppose.”
His gaze pulled from his mother to the stairwell where his sister appeared, holding a freshly bathed Laney in the most adorable reindeer-printed footie pajamas. “How is Lance doing?”
