“No to the dancing, and no to the torrid affair. I had to run out before the director killed me for interrupting the scene rehearsal. And you know I’d never cheat on Brandon, or anyone else. Why the sound manager, anyway?”
“I don’t know. It seemed like someone cool to have an affair with. Don’t they get their own booth where you two could have crazy sex on the control board and then you’d accidentally turn on the microphone switch with your bum and suddenly the entire cast would hear you make guttural sounds?”
I blink. “You watch too much TV. And the sound director is fifty.”
“Ah, bet he might teach you a trick or two.”
I shake my head. “You’re impossible.” I walk a few paces away from the doors to make sure no one hears my “family emergency” and ask, “Please tell me you have good news for me?”
“I searched for a vacancy on ski resorts all over the country, and they’re all booked solid for Christmas—”
“But,” I interrupt. “There must be a ‘but’ at the end of that phrase.”
“Buuut… just as I was checking my favorite agency in Park City, a spot magically opened. Christmas week went from red to green under my eyes. But it won’t stay green for long, so I’m going to give you all the facts pronto. The house is a refurbished cabin in the woods about fifteen minutes from the town’s center with very cozy, mountain-chic decor. The downside: it only has four bedrooms. Amy and Trevor could sleep in the master with the twins. Then there are two singles, one for your mom, and the other has a full bed that might fit you and Brandon if you want to hug tight at night—”
“Brandon can’t come, so that isn’t an issue.”
“Let me guess, work?” Mindy asks.
I roll my eyes and bite my tongue. I’m not in the mood for one of her your-boyfriend-doesn’t-value-you-enough pep talks. “What about the fourth room?”
“It has a bunk bed that would be perfect for the older kids.”
“And Joshua?”
“That’s the thing, he’d have to sleep on the sofa bed in the living room.”
“Mmm. Where is Park City, anyway?”
“Utah.”
“Utah? That’s like super far.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Mindy sing-songs. “I’m telling you, this is your only option, and if you don’t book it fast, it’ll be gone before lunchtime.”
“The town is nice?”
“Very quaint, with old storefronts and cozy restaurants, but also some gourmet options if you decide to go foodie. And the location is perfect, right in the middle of a few of the best ski resorts in the country: Park City, Alta, Deer Valley, Park City Mountain… you can try a different one each day if you want.”
“Okay, I’m sold, book it. Could you also sort the plane tickets? Five adults, two kids, and the twins, but they don’t pay yet, right?”
“Sure, I’m going to need a copy of everyone’s IDs. And I guess you’ll also want a couple of rental cars to move around once you get to Utah.”
“Yes, yes, those too.”
“Or would you prefer a minivan that can fit the whole gang?”
I consider for a second. “No, better do the two cars so we can split if people want to do different activities.”
“Perfect.” I can practically see Mindy seated at her minimalistic desk, taking notes as we speak. “To recap, one cabin, nine plane tickets, two cars, and four car seats? Or are Vicky and Owen old enough to go without one?”
“No, yeah, Amy still uses car seats for them.”
“Four car seats it is, then. Your family vacation is so Home Alone I want to gag.”
“Nah, come on, in Home Alone they had at least ten kids, we only have four.”
And if Brandon keeps being so career centered, I’m afraid we won’t be adding to that tally anytime soon.
“All right,” Mindy says. “The house is booked.”
Four
Riven
Three solid hours of writing later, I crack my neck as I look away from the computer screen for the first time. Outside, the sun is already descending over the mountains while still shining brightly. I check my watch: two-thirty. My stomach growls in response.
I pat my belly. “Yep, it’s past our lunchtime, buddy.”
I could grab a burger at the local pub before I drop by the rental agency and catch two birds with one stone.
I snatch the car keys from a bowl on the kitchen island and, as an afterthought, pick up my phone as well. As I turn it on, it buzzes with a million notifications, mostly from my sister.
I have half a mind to ignore her and not call her back until later tonight. I already agreed to go home. What else could she want? But then I find a missed call also from my dad. He never calls unless something is up—he, contrary to everybody else in my family, understands why I had to get away from LA and how important my writing time is.
I call Dad back first, but he doesn’t pick up. With a sigh, I tap Tess’s contact next.
She answers on the first ring. “Where were you? Why was your phone off? I’ve been trying to call you for hours.”
I was WRITING!!! I want to scream. They all assume that since I can work from home at any hour of the day, my job doesn’t warrant the same respect or boundaries of a nine-to-five desk gig. I bite down my retort and ask instead, “Has something happened? Is Dad okay?”
“Yeah, he is. But his house isn’t.”
“Why? What happened?”
“Busted pipe. I just came back from Dad’s and it’s a disaster. The lower floor is flooded. The contractor said he has to replace all the pipes, break the floors, the walls—it’s going to take weeks.”
“Where’s Dad staying?”
“With us. The kids will bunk together for a few weeks but we can’t have Christmas dinner at our place. Our house isn’t big enough. Did you already book your flight to come home?”
“No,” I say. “Are you telling me not to? I thought the Clarks couldn’t skip Christmas.”
“And we can’t, but what if we came to you? The cabin is huge, right? It’d fit us.”
I make a quick count of the bedrooms. If I leave the master for Tess and her husband, Dad and I can each sleep in one of the singles, and Tess’s kids can sleep in the bunk beds. But what about Skeeter, our younger brother?
I move to the couch and tentatively lift the seating. It gives. It’s a sofa bed. Skeeter can sleep here. College kids aren’t too fussy about sleeping arrangements.
Yeah, I could host the Clark clan, but… “Shoot, Tess, I told the real estate agent she could sublet the cabin while I was gone.”
“What? Nooo!”
“Don’t despair yet, I only agreed to the deal a few hours ago. I doubt she’s already rented the place. Listen, I’m going into town anyway to pay my rent, I’ll check with the agency right away and let you know, okay?”