That Old Emerald Mountain Magic

by Cara Malone

  “Okay, honey,” Mom said. “Here, take the pie – it’s safer with you.”

  She wrapped the last remaining mince pie in a paper towel and gave it to Carmen. She put it delicately into her coat pocket, then headed for the door. If Joy was trying to avoid her, Carmen was determined not to let it happen. She couldn’t leave the mountain without saying a proper goodbye, and she didn’t like the idea of Joy spending Christmas night by herself, either.

  She texted her just before she left the cabin, letting Joy know that she was looking for her, and then she slipped on her gloves and headed outside. The road to the lodge was quiet and cleanly plowed, and Carmen walked briskly with her hands in her pockets, gently cupping the mince pie so as not to smash it. The closer she got, she could smell the warm, inviting burning of the wood fireplaces in the lodge, and a lot of people were out on the slopes, enjoying the last remaining hours of their own vacations.

  Joy was nowhere to be found in the lodge, and the girl at the front desk told Carmen that she was pretty sure Joy had clocked out about an hour ago. The stone of worry grew bigger in Carmen’s stomach, and she even went out to the ski area and spent a good ten minutes staring up at the mountainside, trying to discern whether any of the little dots on the snow-covered hills was Joy. But she wasn’t on the bunny slopes, of course, and Carmen wasn’t ready to go looking for her on the black diamonds she preferred, so she started walking back to cabin number four.

  She took out her phone on the way and removed her glove so that she could dial Joy’s number one more time. Her fingers felt like ice almost immediately and she shivered as she left a message for Joy.

  “Hey, it’s me,” Carmen said. “Please don’t make me leave without getting to say goodbye to you. I know that this was doomed to be just a whirlwind vacation romance, but it feels like a lot more to me and I miss you. P.S., I have your mince pie.”

  She put the phone away and shivered all the way back to the cabin, feeling desolate and lonely as she walked past cabins one through three, each one lit up with strings of large, white lights along the rooflines and families enjoying their Christmases inside. Carmen thought fleetingly about hiring a car to take her into town and driving around until she could remember the street where Joy’s apartment was, but she let the idea go because if Joy couldn’t even answer her phone calls, then she probably wouldn’t be too happy to find Carmen on her doorstep.

  She found her parents curled up together on the couch when she got back to the cabin, watching the ending of It’s a Wonderful Life. She carefully extracted the mince pie from her pocket and handed it to her dad, saying, “Here, I don’t think she’s coming for it.”

  “Oh, honey,” Mom started to say, but Carmen waved her off. She didn’t want the sympathy right now. She just wanted to go to sleep and stop thinking about how unexpectedly heartbroken she felt. She went down the hall to her room and closed the door softly, collapsing into the bed that still smelled faintly of Joy.

  Twenty-Eight

  Joy

  Joy left the resort as soon as she could that evening. Christmas Day was always frantic, but that night was usually one of the resort’s quietest, with people settling into their cabins or their rooms to spend time with their families. She thought a lot about what her mom had said on the phone, about how she should tell Carmen how she felt about her, but in the end, she decided to stick with her original plan.

  Carmen had given her one of the best holidays of her life and Joy’s heart was already aching in her absence, but it didn’t seem fair to go back over to the cabin and lay her emotions bare. Carmen was just a girl on vacation, a girl who had a whole other life in New York that Joy knew nothing about. It was absurd to even entertain the thought of their relationship extending beyond Christmas.

  So Joy took off her elf hat – her coworker in the transportation office had been right, and she’d had to endure the merry jingling of bells on her head all day while her heart broke – and she went home.

  The apartment was dark and silent, and it felt much emptier than it had just a week ago when she came home from dropping Danny off at the airport. She walked instinctively over to the light switch on the wall to turn on the Christmas tree lights, but with her finger on the switch, she couldn’t make herself pretend that this was just another Christmas in Emerald Hill. She didn’t want to make the apartment look festive and cheerful when her heart felt like it was twisting in on itself, so instead she went over to the couch and curled up in a soft knit blanket that her mother made for her ages ago.

  She looked out the window and saw snowflakes glittering as they fell in front of the streetlight, and she allowed herself to wallow in this supremely painful moment.

  Emerald Hill was a temporary kind of town, and usually Joy didn’t let that get to her. Not when all her high school friends moved away, not when Mom and her new husband had to leave for the sake of her health, not when Danny got his big break. Losing Carmen hurt the most, maybe because of all the rest of the loss compounding on top of it, or maybe because…

  A little voice in the back of Joy’s head suggested, Maybe because you love the rest of them, but you’re in love with her.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Joy said out loud to the empty room, swiping angrily at a tear that had made its way to the tip of her nose.

  Her phone started vibrating in the pocket of her pants, startling her out of her misery for a moment. Carmen had texted her a handful of times throughout the day, and left Joy a voicemail that she refused to listen to. It was probably her calling again, and a wave of guilt washed over Joy. She knew Carmen would be just fine once she got back to New York – she was a strong person – but Joy also knew that her cowardice must be upsetting Carmen now.

  She dug the phone out of her pocket with some difficulty thanks to the folds of the blanket. She wasn’t quite sure what she was going to do – reject the call and send it to voicemail so she didn’t have to hear the vibrations anymore, or answer it and pour her heart out to Carmen. But when she finally got the phone free, Danny’s name was on the display.

  Joy shook her head a few times to try to clear the sadness from her voice, then answered with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, “Hey, Merry Christmas!”

  “Merry Christmas from Ohio,” he answered. “Do you have a minute?”

  “Yeah, I’m off work now,” Joy said. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing much, just wanted to call and see how your holiday was,” he said. “Was it crazy at the resort?”

  “As always,” Joy said. “How about you? What’s Christmas with The Hero’s Journey like?”

  “A little surreal,” Danny said with a laugh. “I’ve never spent Christmas with a rock band before and it was shockingly normal. The front man’s mom cooked us all dinner, and then we all sat around watching football.”

  “Weird,” Joy said.

  “Yeah, and you want to hear the strangest part?” Danny asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Umm,” he said, pausing for a moment, and Joy’s heart leaped into her throat. She could guess what was coming, what she’d been expecting ever since she watched him walk into the airport with his guitar case at his side. “Right after dinner, they asked me to be a full member.”

  “That’s amazing,” Joy said with equal parts elation for her friend and sadness for herself. “Congratulations, Danny. You earned the hell out of it.”

  “Thanks,” he said. “I’m still having a hard time processing it.”

  “You’re going to be the best rhythm guitarist on the planet,” she said. “And then someday you’ll be lead, I know it.”

  “Slow down,” Danny said, laughing. “One step at a time.”

  “So, is this effective immediately?” Joy asked.

  “Yeah, I guess so,” Danny said. “We’re touring until the New Year, and then I guess it’s back to Memphis to start working on a new album. It’s crazy to say that out loud.”

  “So you must not be coming back to Emerald Hill any time soon,�
�� Joy said. She shouldn’t have mentioned it – she didn’t want to rain on her best friend’s parade by reminding him how pathetic and lonely she was, but it just sort of slipped out.

  “No,” Danny said after a little pause. “I guess not. I might send someone to pack up some more of my clothes and my instruments, if that’s okay. You can destroy the Die Hard poster if it makes you feel better.”

  Joy laughed and said, “I just might do that. I’m having a punch Bruce Willis in the face kind of day.”

  “Annoying resort guests?”

  “Not exactly,” Joy said, and thankfully, Danny filled in the blanks for her.

  “Is this about the girl you obliterated on the slopes?”

  “Yeah,” Joy said, laughing at his word choice and feeling a tiny bit better. She knew there was a reason he was her best friend, despite his awful taste in popular culture and his decision to abandon her for musical fame and fortune. “She’s leaving tomorrow and I think I may have fallen for her.”

  “Oh shit,” Danny said. “That’s rough.”

  “Yeah,” Joy agreed. “We had a really nice time and I’m going to miss the hell out of her.”

  “I keep telling you that you’ve got to get out of Emerald Hill,” Danny said. “Go where the people aren’t so temporary.”

  “Yeah,” Joy said. It felt like she’d heard this at least a dozen times in the past week, and it was easier advice to give than it was to follow. She couldn’t just pick up her life and leave Emerald Hill the way that Danny had – she wasn’t brave like that. So she did what Joy did best – she changed the subject. “Oh, by the way, my mom said she saw your concert videos on social media and she’s proud of you.”

  “Aww,” Danny said. “Tell my future mother-in-law I’m proud of her, too.”

  “Jerk,” Joy said, rolling her eyes. “Well, I better let you get back to your lavish, rock star Christmas.”

  “Okay,” Danny said. “Don’t let yourself get too beat up about that girl. There will be others, maybe even ones who you haven’t maimed.”

  Joy laughed again, wished Danny luck on the rest of the tour, and they hung up. She scrunched down on the couch, laying her head against the armrest, and watched the snow continue to fall outside. Danny must be right – there would be other girls – but for the moment, Joy didn’t want anyone but Carmen and she couldn’t imagine feeling this way about anyone else.

  She glanced up at the Die Hard poster above the couch and thought about taking Danny up on his offer. It might be fun to get her mind off this exquisite heartbreak by brainstorming creative ways to destroy the garish, dormitory artwork that had annoyed her every single day for the last five years. But suddenly she almost liked it for reminding her of the good times she had living there with Danny, which had just officially come to an end.

  December 26

  Twenty-Nine

  Carmen

  Carmen woke up the next morning to her dad sitting on the edge of her bed, nudging her out of sleep.

  “Good morning,” he said. “It’s time to start packing to leave.”

  “No,” Carmen whined, still mostly lost in her dreams. She’d been on the mountainside, her skis carrying her faster than she’d ever dared to go in real life, and Joy was just ahead of her, always out of reach.

  “I’m sorry, kiddo,” Dad said. He looked at her sympathetically and put a hand on her shoulder, and Carmen wondered if he was about to launch into some kind of fatherly speech about heartbreak – was she that transparent? But then he spared her the pain and instead said, “I wish our vacation was a little longer, too.”

  He got up and headed for the door, lingering there to make sure that Carmen wasn’t going to fall back asleep. It reminded her of high school, when they went through this early morning negotiation almost daily. She put her thumb into the air to let him know she was awake, just like she used to, and he knocked lightly on the door frame.

  “The limo’s coming to pick us up in an hour and a half,” he said, and then he headed into the hallway to deliver the same message to the twins.

  Carmen put her hands on her eyes, rubbing away the sleep and trying to hold back the memory of last night’s events. Her Christmas on Emerald Mountain had been the best one she’d ever experienced, and then it had slid like an avalanche into the worst when Joy disappeared without a trace. In the light of day, all the anguish that Carmen had felt last night at not being able to find Joy was now turning into anger. They could have had one more night together. They could have enjoyed that time, but instead Joy had left her with nothing but confusion and uncertainty.

  She snatched her phone off the bedside table and checked her messages, but there was nothing other than the usual social media notifications. They’d all become meaningless to Carmen this week, and she wondered how long it would be after she returned to New York before necessity dictated that she start caring about them again. She still loved Brigid, even though it was becoming painfully obvious that they’d outgrown each other, but she had no use for a dozen updates a day about how amazing all of her friends’ lives were.

  She dragged herself out of bed, feeling like she could sleep until the New Year, and went down the hall to take a shower. She hoped the hot water and the steam would help clear the curious mix of melancholy and ire out of her mind, but the sight of the deep bath tub only reminded her of Joy. While she waited for the water to heat up, Carmen paced back and forth across the room and decided to give Joy one more chance to stop avoiding her before it was too late. Carmen took a deep breath and dialed Joy’s number, closing her eyes as she waited.

  One ring.

  Two.

  Three.

  And then the phone connected, Joy’s voice coming over the line. Carmen’s heart leapt into her throat for a second before she recognized it as the same voicemail message that she’d heard last night. “This is Joy, I’m not able to come to the phone right now-”

  Carmen hung up and put the phone down hard on the counter, then stepped into the shower. When she was done, she put on a pair of leggings and a sweater, then flopped her suitcase down on her bed. She chucked the phone into the bottom of it – she had no use for it if Joy was determined not to speak to her – and then she started heaping her clothes on top. She didn’t care about wrinkles or keeping the dirty clothes separate from the clean ones, or even whether any of it survived the trip back to New York. She only felt supremely frustrated over the way this trip had ended. She wouldn’t trade it for all the Cancun holidays in the world, but nothing this deep and meaningful could happen on the beach.

  It could only be the snow, and the mountains, and Joy.

  And apparently that didn’t mean anything now that the trip was over.

  Carmen finished throwing all of her clothes haphazardly into her suitcase and her hand was on the zipper when she saw the snow globe Joy had given her sitting on the bedside table, and she paused. Carmen picked it up and sank down on the bed, the anger draining out of her as she wondered what to do with it. It didn’t feel right to take it – it belonged to Joy’s dad and it should stay in her collection – but Carmen worried about leaving it in the cabin, in case it got packed up with the rest of the Christmas decorations or went into the pocket of a housekeeper.

  She sighed and finished zipping up her luggage, then carried it and the snow globe out to the kitchen. She put her suitcase near the door for the driver to load into the back of the limo, then sat down at the island to wait. She shook the snow globe and set it down on the counter, watching the glittering snow fall on the little cabin and looking at the two specks on the side of the mountain that Joy had said were the two of them.

  “What’s that?” Maria asked on her way to the growing pile of luggage, pulling her suitcase on wheels behind her.

  “Joy gave it to me,” Carmen said. Maria dropped her suitcase by the door, then came and sat on the stool next to Carmen, picking up the globe and giving it another shake. She warned, “Careful.”

  Maria set it back down between
them and said, “It’s so pretty.”

  “Yeah,” Carmen said. “I don’t think I can keep it.”

  “Why not?” Maria asked, but before Carmen could answer, Mom and Marisol came into the room with a ruckus, lugging two suitcases each. Carmen slid off her stool and took the biggest one from Mom, helping her get it to the door.

  Dad came in next, going into the kitchen and opening a bakery box in the center of the island. He took out a leftover Christmas cookie and ate half of it in a single bite, then said, “Everybody ready to go home?”

  Carmen shrugged and said, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  The limo pulled up soon after, loading their luggage while Dad tried to figure out how much of their Christmas feast leftovers they could bring to snack on at the airport. Carmen stood in the living room, looking at the tall, plump Christmas tree and the mountain beyond. It wasn’t snowing anymore, but it had come down heavily and steadily last night and every single tree was coated in a thick layer of white. Her former self would have wanted to take a picture of this, and maybe send it to Brigid as a teaser for the amazing vacation she’d had. Carmen’s phone was buried in her luggage, though, and it was better that way, with only her eyes to commit this moment to memory. When it was time to go, Dad came over and put his hand on her shoulder.

  “Time heals all wounds, kiddo,” he said. “Distance doesn’t hurt, either.”

  The Castillos climbed into the limo and Carmen held the snow globe in her lap, the fake snow inside it moving lazily along the bottom of the scene with the motion of the car. The driver was listening to the radio, and the station he had on was still playing Christmas music.

  Last Christmas, I gave you my heart. The very next day, you gave it away.

  Carmen rolled her thumb over the smooth glass of the snow globe. It would be so painful to look at if she took it back to New York with her. Out of all the cheerful, optimistic songs that the DJ could have chosen, of course they were playing that song. She thought about the tree they’d cut down, and the turtle dove ornament that she’d chosen for Joy, wondering if she’d feel the same bitter longing when it was time to take the tree down. The limo stopped in front of the lodge so that Dad could go inside and return their key cards and settle the room service bill, and Carmen got up to go with him.