I grabbed my backpack with the list inside and slipped out, noticing that Lauren hadn’t even changed out of her clothes before passing out on top of her comforter. I rolled my eyes and closed the door quietly behind me.
Downstairs, the lodge had that just-waking-up feeling. The really dedicated ski bums sipped coffee in the lounge, surrounded by their gear, ready to hit the slopes before anyone else could even contemplate breakfast. People spoke in hushed tones, respectful of the early hour, and the Christmas music could be easily heard over the quiet conversations. As I crossed the lobby, a man belly-laughed, and the sound was so startling that everyone in sight looked up. I smiled and headed for the fireplace. But Christopher wasn’t there.
Not shocking, I supposed, since it was so early, but I still felt a sinking disappointment in my gut. I decided to hang out on his couch and wait, figuring he’d be along soon. He’d mentioned that he was more of a morning person than a night person, and breakfast was his favorite meal of the day. It wouldn’t be long before his stomach sent him in search of French toast. I pulled out my book and settled in to read.
A half hour went by. Then another. The lobby grew louder and more crowded around me as families headed for breakfast or out to the slopes or ordered cars to take them into town for the day. Every now and then I glanced up and scanned the room, just in case Christopher had spotted me and decided to camp out somewhere else. I hoped he wouldn’t do that, but you never knew. After an hour and a half had gone by, I was so hungry I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I shoved my book back into my bag and went to the Antelope Room for breakfast. Maybe Christopher had gone straight to the buffet instead of stopping off in the lobby.
The dining room was crowded. I saw Carina sitting alone with her book at a far table, completely absorbed by the story, but no sign of Christopher. Or Loretta for that matter. I had this odd ominous feeling. Like I was missing something. Whatever it was, I didn’t like it. What if Loretta was already in some meeting with her lawyers? Or locked in a heated battle with Christopher’s parents in one of the conference rooms? I joined the line for pancakes, but kept one eye on the door. If I could just see Christopher, I knew I’d feel better. Instead, I saw his parents.
For a minute, I just watched the Callahans, trying to figure out what to do and get up the guts to do it. Christopher’s dad looked a lot like Christopher, except his blond hair was slicked back from his face, and he had a more distinguished air about him. His mom wore slacks and a cashmere cardigan, her light brown hair cut to chin length and not a hair out of place. They walked over to the bar where they served coffee and espresso, the dad’s hand on the small of the mom’s back. Watching them made me feel hot all over. These were the people who were going after Loretta, after the Lodge, after my family. Why couldn’t they just drop it? Let everyone move on with their lives? Yes, Christopher had been hurt, and that was awful, but everyone got hurt once in a while. My parents hadn’t sued the company running the skateboarding competition when I’d broken my ankle.
I glanced behind the Callahans, figuring Christopher would be bringing up the rear on his crutches, but he didn’t appear. A few more families and groups streamed through the doors, but no Christopher.
My heart began to pound uncomfortably. Where was he? I looked at his parents, who were now chatting while the woman behind the counter made their coffee drinks. I could just ask them. But that would be intrusive. And odd. I’d only ever met his mother once, briefly. And they looked so…I don’t know, formal. Forbidding? Like people who didn’t want to be bothered by other people. Especially by the granddaughter of the hotel owner they were suing.
Also, I was so bad at talking to strangers.
But this was an emergency.
Sort of.
I was almost at the front of the line. I could just grab a plate full of pancakes and retreat to Carina’s corner and be done with it. But no. This was too important. It was time to be brave. I’d talked to Carina, and that had turned out fine. I could talk to these people, too.
Before I knew what was happening, I had stepped away from the carb line and approached. The couple was just picking up their tiny espresso cups and turning around when I stepped in front of them. Christopher’s mother let out a little “oh” and almost spilled her coffee.
Of course.
“Oh! Sorry! I didn’t mean to….Sorry,” I said.
She narrowed her eyes at me like maybe she was trying to remember where she’d seen me before. I wanted to die right there.
“Can we help you with something?” Christopher’s father said.
Yes, you can drop your lawsuit and go back to Princeton already, I thought. But maybe leave your son behind so we can make up?
“Yeah, I’m just…sorry,” I said. “I was looking for Christopher?”
Sheesh. How many times could someone say sorry in the span of ten seconds? I sounded like I hadn’t woken up yet.
“Christopher?” his dad said, as if he’d never heard the name before.
Wait. Did I have the wrong couple? Oh God, I really was going to die.
“Oh, right! You’re that girl he was talking to! Jess!”
“Tess,” I said, and blushed.
“Right. Tess.” She gave a tight smile. “Richard, this is Tess Sachs. Granddaughter of Loretta Sachs?”
He stiffened up so quickly I was surprised he didn’t drop his coffee. Clearly he didn’t want to be around anyone with the last name Sachs.
“I’m afraid Christopher’s not here any longer,” he said tersely. “He went to his cousins’ house.”
“Oh. Okay.” I almost backed off, but somehow held my ground. “Sorry,” I said again. “For the day?”
“For the rest of break,” his mother replied in a kinder tone than his father had managed. “He was just so bored sitting on that couch all day. Not that I could blame him. It must have been torture for him watching people coming and going from the slopes all day and to be stuck there with nothing to do and no one to talk to.”
My face burned even hotter, and I felt like crying. He had me to talk to.
“So…wait. You mean he’s not coming back?” I asked.
“No. We’re going to pick him up there the day after New Year’s and fly home,” his mother said, and gave me a sympathetic frown. “I’m sorry he didn’t let you know.”
“Oh. No. It’s fine. We weren’t. I mean, I didn’t—”
Christopher’s father glanced at his watch. “We should go, Maggie. We have that…call we need to be on.”
He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye as he said this, and I knew he was taking a call with their lawyers. Suddenly I wanted to grab that stupid little coffee cup out of his hand and throw whatever was left in it right in his face.