CHAPTER 7

Drew woke up with a slight headache. She hadn’t had that much to drink in a while. It was possible that she’d had one too many and should’ve cut herself off after her second gin and tonic instead of accepting the third one someone had handed her. That made the next, fourth one, two too many, so that one had definitely been a mistake.

When she heard something a second later, she turned her head to the door.

“Room service, Miss Oakes.”

“Room service?” she said to herself and rubbed her face with both hands as she got out of bed to open the door.

She hadn’t set an alarm for herself, wanting to sleep in, but she’d been woken by the door, apparently.

“Did I drunkenly order breakfast for myself last night? If so, well done, past Drew.”

She pulled open the door and found a man with a rolling cart standing there.

“Good morning, Ma’am. May I come in and set this up?”

“Who is this for? The Army?” she asked mostly past Drew because it looked like she’d asked for everything on the menu, and there was no way present or future Drew would be able to eat all this food in a week.

“Ma’am?” he asked as he pushed the cart inside the room.

“Sorry, I don’t remember ordering this, so I’m a little surprised that I would’ve ordered this much food.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy it.”

“A tip!” She hurried over to the desk where she’d left her wallet.

“No need, Ma’am. It’s taken care of.”

“What do you mean?”

“Enjoy your breakfast. You can put the cart back out in the hall when you’re done, or leave it in here if you wish, and we’ll pick it up later. Whatever’s easiest for you,” he said and quickly left the room.

Drew put the wallet she’d just picked up back down on the desk and stared at the cart filled with food. There was a pot of coffee along with what looked like two carafes of juice. One was probably orange, and she guessed the other was grapefruit. There was a basket with a few assorted pastries, a container of what looked like gravy, one with syrup, some pads of butter, small bottles of hot sauce, ketchup, jam, salt and pepper, a plate with two slices of toast, and two plates covered with silver cloches. She lifted them both at once and stared down at a stack of pancakes with bacon and sausage on one plate, and another plate filled with eggs and two biscuits.

“Jesus,” she said to no one. Then, it hit her, and she sat down on the bed in front of the cart. “Another peace offering,” she added.

Drew had been certain that Selma had said some mean things last night, but Drew had also said some stuff that she wished she could take back. She couldn’t even claim that it was the alcohol, either. She could try, of course, and, at least in part, it would be true because she’d still been a little tipsy after going to the bathroom and picking that book back up because she hadn’t been ready to go back to her room, but it wouldn’t be the whole truth. Hearing Selma call Drew her idol had been nice in a way because Drew did have a little of an ego on her, and she liked hearing people tell her how good she was on a board, but hearing that from Selma and knowing what had happened at the Olympics had had Drew thinking that it would’ve been better for Selma to stick with skiing. And since alcohol had lowered her inhibitions, she’d actually said those words out loud.

While this meal was a nice gesture, it wasn’t a real apology from Selma, which Drew still thought she deserved; not for the crash, but for some of the assumptions Selma had made about her character. Yes, Drew liked to brag and tell stories, and maybe she hadn’t known the whole story about what had happened to the girl who had yelled at her, but the girl had been rude, and Drew hadn’t been a fan of that kind of confrontation. Still, she hadn’t told her teammates to mess with the girl or write the number three on her mirror in her own lipstick; they’d done that all on their own. All Drew had known was that the girl hadn’t come back the next year. How was it her fault that she hadn’t been in the social media loop about the girl’s situation?

She supposed she now owed Selma an apology as well for saying what she’d said and a thank you for the cookie and, now, this breakfast. Unless things had changed at this place, Drew knew that Ruth made ends meet and did a little better than that, but she wasn’t raking in millions a year or anything. The other, larger and more popular resorts and lodges did, but Ruth hadn’t ever been in the business for the money. She loved the people. That meant that this breakfast probably cost Selma and Ruth some money to just give away.

Drew ate what she could but couldn’t finish everything. Then, she pushed the cart into the hallway against the wall and called downstairs to let them know that it could be picked up before she climbed into the shower. While in there, she made a decision that today was the day she was finally going to go for a run. As she towel-dried her short hair, she looked at both her board and her skis, knowing that she didn’t want to ski today. She wanted to be back on her board, and she wanted to race it down a damn mountain, let the air hit her face, and without doing too much, test her knee at the same time.

She dressed for the occasion and grabbed everything she’d need for the day. She also realized that she should’ve talked to Becks and Jo and the friends they’d come with to see if she could tag along with them today, but she hadn’t thought about it last night, and today, she was actually glad that she hadn’t because she just needed a day up on the mountain to herself. She could always check in with them later to see what they’d be up to for dinner or tomorrow.

Drew had paid for the package that included her lift tickets, so she joined the relatively short line and headed up. She knew this mountain like the back of her hand now, so when she got to the top of her run, which was one of the easiest on the mountain, she patted her knee and told it silently to behave. She had wrapped it, but not too tightly, and she knew it would probably swell at the end of the day since she hadn’t done a lot on it recently, but she needed this.

She turned her board and headed down slowly, intentionally not going for speed and just enjoying herself. The trip down was way too short, and she headed right back up to the top to do it again. This time, Drew tried for a little speed and added in a couple of twists and turns of her board and her body to really see what her knee could do. She didn’t feel any pain, which was a win, so back up she went.

After a few hours, she was ready for a break and some lunch, so she went inside the restaurant at the bottom of the run, sat down at a table there, and looked around the room as she removed her helmet, gloves, and goggles, waiting for a server to approach. The place was busy, but it always was this time of day, so she perused the menu since it had changed since she’d been here last, and when the waiter arrived, she ordered a burger and fries, thinking she needed the protein and carbs to get her through the rest of the afternoon.

Drew chose to people-watch as she ate, leaving her headphones out of her ears and her phone facing down on the table. The place was filled with groups of people at big tables and families showing their kids how to ski or board, which made Drew smile and think of her own family. She used to love the time they had on any mountain. They’d ski and eat in places like this, filled with people who understood them. Her parents would talk to other people and introduce Drew to the other kids, who would become Drew’s vacation friends for the week. They’d all go out on the mountain together to have fun, but quickly, Drew would realize that she was taking things more seriously than those vacation friends. She wanted lessons from coaches to get better. She wanted competitions and races to show off her skills and get wins, podium appearances, and medals. They wanted to have snowball fights, sit around when they got tired, and drink hot chocolate or even go inside when there was the perfect snow outside waiting for them to take advantage of it.

When she finished eating, Drew made sure to down a whole glass of water to help keep herself hydrated. She headed back outside, but not to get back on her board yet. She needed her food to start digesting a bit first, and yes, her coach would hate that she’d just had a fatty burger and fries, but he was the one who told her to take a break and recharge, so she deserved a damn burger, in her opinion. There were chairs along one side of the front porch of the restaurant and a long bench on the other side. The bench was filled with people sipping from paper cups, talking, laughing, or putting on their skis. There were four chairs on the other side, and one of them was free, so Drew put her gloves back on and headed over. She took a seat, holding on to her helmet, put her goggles back on to protect her eyes from the blinding snow, and watched people again.

She didn’t get to do a lot of this because when she was boarding, she was usually in training or competing these days, but she enjoyed people-watching. It calmed her, for some reason, and as she watched a woman talking to what looked to be her student, showing her how to get herself clipped into her board, Drew smiled because she remembered having to be shown that herself all those years ago.

The girl, who looked to be between seven and nine, if Drew had to guess, stood up tall on her board, looking proud of herself, with her hands on her hips, and her coach started working with her, showing her how to turn her board on the snow, which required either gliding it into the snow if they were on the edge of something because the tip would eventually hang over it, or taking a little jump and turning it in the air a few inches off the ground. The girl was having a hard time with the jump and fell down on her butt a few times. At first, she laughed it off, but eventually, Drew could see the frustration even in her goggle-covered face.

She sat there, continuing to watch without being able to hear them from the sounds of the restaurant behind her, the people talking on the bench and chairs, and the general crowd on the snow in front of her. Drew squinted and wished she could, though, because she’d just watched the coach try to show the girl how to make a turn in the snow, causing her to fall over yet again. This time, when the girl got back up, she unclipped her boots from the board. Then, she said something to the coach and left the board in the snow as she took a few steps away. The move the coach was trying to show her was technically fine, but clearly, that girl needed the basics, and that move wasn’t something Drew would show someone who had only just learned how to clip in.

“Hey, I see you’re learning how to board,” Drew said to the little girl as she approached.

“Not anymore.” The girl crossed her little arms over her chest and stared down at the snow beneath her feet, kicking it a bit.

“Hey, that move is pretty hard even for me, and I’m a pro, so maybe you could start with something a little easier next time. I’m sure you’ll get it.”

“Drew? What are you doing here?”

Drew turned to see Selma standing there, lifting her goggles to her helmet and looking at Drew in confusion.

“Boarding,” Drew replied. Then, she realized that Selma was the coach she’d been watching this whole time. She hadn’t been able to tell from afar, with Selma wearing a helmet and goggles. “I was just watching your student from over there. I didn’t know it was you. I thought I’d offer a little encouragement.”

“She’s fine,” Selma replied and crossed her arms over her chest in a pose that now looked very familiar to Drew.

“You just had her trying to turn in this snow up here when it’s all messed up with everyone walking around the restaurant. She could barely get herself clipped in.” Drew turned back to the girl. “No offense.”

“I’m just learning. Mom says it’s okay to make mistakes when you’re learning.”

“It’s always okay to make mistakes. You just don’t want to make the same one twice. That’s the trick,” Drew said to her.

“Drew, can you back off a little, please?”

“Yeah, sorry. She was just getting frustrated, and I didn’t want her to give up. I didn’t know you were a coach, too. How many jobs do you have now, Selma?”

“I’m not her coach,” Selma replied and took a few steps around Drew toward the little girl. “She’s my daughter.” Selma placed her hands on the girl’s shoulders and stood behind her. “Gia, can you say hi to Drew, please?”

“Hi, Drew,” Gia said, giving Drew a small wave and a smile.

“Your…”

“Yes.”

“She’s…”

“I have the afternoon off today, so I was teaching her how to board.”

“She’s finally letting me learn,” Gia stated proudly. “Before, she said she didn’t want me up here until she thought I was ready. But I’m nine; I’m ready, Mom.”

“I know. That’s why we’re here.”

“I didn’t know,” Drew stated.

“Why would you?”

“Touché,” Drew said.

“Would you mind?” Selma asked and gave Drew a dismissive nod. “I really don’t need your help. I know my own daughter and how to teach her how to do something that I also do professionally.”

“Mom’s awesome. She has all these medals at home. Have you seen them?” Gia asked.

“No, I haven’t,” Drew answered, thinking she’d seen those medals around Selma’s neck at times but never hung up or displayed at Selma’s home, how Gia probably meant.

“Do you have medals, too?”

“I have some, yeah,” Drew confirmed.

“So cool! I want to win medals one day, too.”

“I’m sure you will, kid,” Drew replied. “But your mom is giving me the universal grown-up signal to leave you two alone right now, so I’m going to make a run right now. Have a good rest of your lesson, Gia.”

“Oh, okay,” Gia said, sounding a little disappointed, which made Drew smile at her before she winked and turned to go.