2. Nicholas

TWO

Nicholas

Hark, how the bells / Sweet silver bells / All seem to say / Throw cares away.

11:47 am

We ski into the base of the mountain, Benjy slows the sled carefully as the rescue team comes into view. Fucking shitty that my session with the backcountry guide had to be cut short. When I saw who it was, that only compounded my irritation.

The skies are getting grayer by the minute, so the likelihood we are going back up is slim to none.

Paramedics are waiting for us. Benjy radioed in that there was an injured skier he was bringing in, so I'm sure they have everything ready to roll as soon as he delivers her.

The experience of all of this, while frustrating, surprisingly hits me like a punch to the gut. It's been four years since I lost my sister. Eventhough I deal with ambulances and paramedics multiple times a day, somehow the sight of it all in this setting, the time of the year, the urgency in their movement—all of it takes me back. I grip my poles tighter, willing myself to focus, but my mind drifts back to that day.

December 29, 2020. Helena, my sister, and her husband, Bobby, had just gotten back from Florida after spending Christmas with his family. She'd taken Sammy, their son, out for a quick trip to the store. Just a simple errand, nothing out of the ordinary. But that's when it happened.

I can still hear Bobby's voice when he called. I'll never forget it: shaky, panicked. "There's been an accident, Nick. Helena and Sammy... they're hurt."

By the time I got to the scene, the ambulance was already pulling away. Blue and red lights flashing through the cold winter air.

Her burgundy SUV was completely crushed at the driver's door. I don't even know how they got her out. I don't know how anyone would survive that level of impact.

Helena was gone. And Sammy, only fourteen months old at the time, was inside that ambulance—tiny, strapped in, so damn fragile.

I'm an ER doctor, trained to deal with trauma, but knowing it was my nephew in that ambulance, knowing his mother, my sister, was gone... nothing prepares you for that. And that feeling I felt that day will never leave me, and moments like this unexpectedly bring it all roaring back as if it were yesterday.

Bobby's been raising Sammy on his own ever since and he's a damn good dad. I've done my best to be there, to help where I can, to make sure Sammy knows who his mom was. I thank God every day that Sammy has such an amazing father, and I'm even more grateful he has stayed in Knoxville.

Bobby has been amazing at keeping all of us in Sammy's life. And for that, I will always be eternally grateful.

I'm not ready to relive this. Not today. But here it is, staring me in the face like it does from time-to-time when I least expect it.

I should be relieved instead of conjuring up that awful outcome. We got her down without too much trouble. Now they can take over from here and I can put this whole unfortunate reunion behind me. This will not hijack my getaway holiday vacation.

It's not just the dredging up of painful memories that has me all twisted up right now. The tight knot in my chest the moment I realized who was lying there in the snow still remains.

Of all people. In all places. How did Rives Delaney end up here the same week I chose to get out of town? What are the odds?

I glance over as they start unstrapping her from the sled. She hasn't seen me, hasn't realized who was skiing beside her the whole way down. That's fine by me. This whole thing was already awkward enough, no need to upset it more by letting her know her mortal enemy, her ex from hell, is part of her saving grace.

I could've told her. I could've pulled off my helmet, let her know it was me. But what would that have done? Made things worse? I doubt she'd be thrilled to see me again, especially not like this. The past is better left locked away and buried.

She's in good hands now, and I'm free to walk away. Just like I did five years ago.

This was supposed to be a getaway, an escape from Knoxville and the fact that I'm not spending Christmas with Nicky, my six-year-old son, for the first time since he was born. Not to be reminded of losing my sister and seeing the last person on earth I'd like to see.

Bev, Nicky's mom, my other ex, decided to take him to Charleston this year with her new boyfriend's family. That left me all alone in a city that only further reminds me of my son, who I should be spending Christmas with.

Bev and I split only a week after Nicky was born. Since he was a baby, we've worked out sharing the holiday, each of us taking every other Christmas Day, but still both of us seeing him throughout. It was always fairly easy because we all stayed in Knoxville. We'd share the holiday in our own way, me taking Christmas Eve and Bev taking Christmas Day, or vice versa. It worked out.

This year, Bev wanted something different. She wanted to take Nicky down to Charleston, which meant he would be gone for a full week. It was her turn to have him for Christmas, so I couldn't really say anything.

I made the last minute decision to come out west to ski so I wouldn't mope around Knoxville missing him. This old mining town just got a whole lot smaller knowing Rives is in it.

It's been almost five years since I last saw Rives. Five years since we said things we couldn't take back, delivering the final blow, and went our separate ways. She tried to hang on, calling several times after we split, but I wasn't going to drag out the inevitable. So, when we said our goodbyes, that was it for me. No looking back.

The breakup wasn't pretty. Hell, it was ugly. We were fire and gasoline, burning brightly in the beginning. It was nine months of passion, excitement, adventure. But then reality hit, and it hit hard. That's when the fire and gasoline turned destructive.

Nicky turned one that October and I realized I needed to be more grounded and present in his life. Juggling work as an ER doctor and being a single dad takes a lot of energy. If someone else isn't in that same frame of mind, it can be a drag. I get that.

Rives was fresh out of grad school when I met her, full of energy, chasing thrills and adventure as a young respiratory therapist at the hospital. It was cliché and fun, the doctor and the therapist flirting at the hospital and having wild sex wherever we could.

We were very compatible in that way: in the bedroom. If only our relationship could have survived on that alone.

As much as I wanted to do the spontaneous ski trips or last-minute cruise to Alaska, my life didn't really allow for that. Rives didn't understand it. She couldn't, really. She was in a completely different place in life—free, ambitious, always looking for the next rush. My life held her back.

I couldn't keep up with her, and I couldn't give her the kind of day-to-day life she wanted.

Rives was always ready for something new; I was stuck in survival mode, trying to juggle diapers and night shifts. I think, for a while, she tried to adapt. But it wore her down and I was tired of feeling like I didn't give her enough.

We fought. A lot. Until one fight was one too many, and everything unraveled. She said she was done begging for more of me and I was tired of fighting.

I tried to explain, tried to make her see that my life wasn't going to change anytime soon. But the truth was, I wasn't what she needed, and she wasn't what I could handle. We just weren't compatible.

We ended things, but it wasn't clean. It never is, is it? When she said she was done it might have been in the heat of passion, something she didn't mean. But I said, "Bye," and didn't look back. I needed a clean break.

I grit my teeth, pushing the memories away as the rescue team lifts her onto the waiting ambulance to get her to the clinic. I hang back, keeping a low profile, feeling the tiniest bit of guilt watching from afar, knowing she is there but she has no idea I am.

As far as I know, anyway, she has no idea it's me. If that is the case, that's for the best. She's got bigger problems right now—like the fact that her leg's busted and whether she wants to or not, she might just have to slow down her bullet-train, adrenaline-fueled life after all.

I plan to pretend this didn't happen, move on with my trip, and put her out of my mind. She will never have to know I was the other guy on the mountain who found her. I can go back to my vacation, and she can go back to hers. I'd very much like to get through this holiday without having to dredge up the past anymore than I already have today.

This is Telluride, though, and it's a small town. Not even to mention it's Christmas. People always end up crossing paths in places like this. The odds are not in my favor.

Once the paramedics are gone I figure that's it for me. Unless I can jump on the lift and get a run or two in on the front of the mountain.

Benjy turns to me, motioning to the darkening sky. "Sorry again about today, man. I know we had to cut things short with the rescue, but with the storm rolling in, looks like we'll have to call it a wrap."

I glance at the sky, the wind picking up, carrying flurries of snow with it. It's clear this storm's going to be a big one.

"No worries," I say, adjusting my gear. "You did what you had to do. Hell, that was a learning experience in and of itself, seeing you pop that sled out and take command of the situation. And, to tell you the truth, it took everything not to jump in and help. But out on a mountain and in the E.R. are very different, and you had it all under control. What a wild ride."

It was difficult for me to take off my doctor hat and observe. But as soon as she removed her goggles and helmet and I saw that it was her, there was no way I was getting anywhere close to that once I knew Benjy was in control.

Benjy nods, pulling off his gloves. "If there had been a compound break or an open wound, I would have put you to work. But we see these types of injuries a lot out here. I can secure a downed skier and pull a sled in my sleep."

"You certainly do your job well. She's lucky it was you and not me in this situation." In more ways than one, I think to myself.

"I do what I can. Listen, I'll tell you what—if you're still in town after the storm passes, I'll take you out for a half-day in the backcountry. Make up for cutting it short."

"I'll be here until Wednesday," I reply, grateful for the offer. "That sounds good if it works out."

Benjy raises an eyebrow. "You want to grab a beer? I could use one after that."

"Sounds good," I say, following him toward the town center.

The Last Dollar Saloon

100 E Colorado Avenue

12:26 pm

We walk into the cozy, packed bar. It's like we take a step back into time with the old wood floors and dark wood paneling. The place already filling up with skiers trying to get warm as the temperature continues to drop.

Benjy orders two beers, and we settle in at a small table near the window, watching as the snow starts to fall harder.

"You handled things well out there," Benjy says after a moment. "Most people panic in situations like that."

I shrug. "I'm an ER doc. Kind of used to to that scene. I would have stepped in to help, but you didn't need me."

"It honestly slipped my mind in the moment that you were a doctor" Benjy lifts his beer as if to apologize. "I should have deferred to you."

"You didn't need me! You did a great job." I take a sip, feeling the warmth spread through me. "You've got a good handle on things. It's impressive"

"Appreciate that," he says, taking a drink. "Still, I'm glad you were there in case we needed you. She looked pretty banged up. Think she'll be alright?"

I nod. "Yeah, probably a knee injury. Nothing too serious. She was moving her toes, so that's a good sign."

Benjy leans back in his chair, thoughtful. "You see a lot of stuff like that in the ER?"

"Yeah, but usually more car accidents, workplace injuries, that kind of thing. Knoxville's a college town, though, so we get some pretty wild cases, too."

"Oh yeah? What's the craziest thing you've seen?"

I chuckle, remembering. "We had this kid come in once—fraternity prank gone wrong. His buddies duct-taped him to a mattress and threw him in a pool. Problem was, the mattress flipped over, and he got stuck face down in the water. You never realize how heavy a saturated queen mattress can be."

Benjy winces. "Damn. Did he make it?"

"Barely. We pulled him through, but he was in rough shape. You wouldn't believe how many weird things like that come through the ER."

He shakes his head, smiling. "I bet you've seen it all."

"Pretty much." I set my beer down, the conversation turning quieter. "What about you? How often do you deal with rescues like today?"

"Not too often," Benjy says, glancing out at the swirling snow. "But when people get out in the backcountry, they can get into trouble real fast. Tourists, mostly. They think they can handle it, but it only takes one bad fall."

I nod, knowing Rives is probably more experienced out there than most, but I don't let him know I know her. She could've ended up in much worse shape if Benjy hadn't spotted her.

Benjy finishes his drink and looks out the window. "Storm's coming in hard now. If the wind gets bad, they'll shut down the lifts tomorrow. Just be careful if you're thinking of heading out."

"Thanks for the heads up," I say. "I doubt I'll be going too far. Cold beer and burgers is all I need, as long as they don't close down the Last Dollar Saloon.

He claps me on the shoulder and heads for the door, pulling his jacket tight as he steps back into the cold.

I sit for a while longer, finishing my beer as the storm swirls outside, wondering just how much this trip is going to be derailed by the weather—and by Rives.