by Lara Swann
He drops me off further from the center of town than I would have picked, suggesting that I walk the rest of the way toward the festive downtown area myself to really enjoy the full Aspen experience.
“Just follow the lights.” He promises. “It’s pretty obvious.”
“Thanks.” I say, laughing slightly as I follow his directions and get out of the cab a little earlier than I’d planned.
He’s quite the character, but I can appreciate that. I’d much rather have someone give me that sort of advice than assume I know what I’m doing - and making an adventure of this sounds just about perfect to me.
It’s almost immediately obvious that he’s right too, as I follow the golden glowing lights dotted along the streets towards junctions with ever-increasing decorations. There’s a light dusting of snow everywhere and the effect is simply magical as I work my way closer and closer to the town center, taking in the little touches each individual house has put on display - a tasteful glowing sleigh in the window here, a beautifully decorated tree outside there, even a snowman with a lights wrapped around his top-hat - and enjoying how quiet and undisturbed it all seems out here. I wouldn’t even be surprised if half the reason Max recommended I walk the rest of the way would be to cut down on the unnecessary distraction of traffic in the town center.
As I walk, sounds of life and people gradually get louder too, creating a warm sense of anticipation for what’s awaiting me as old-fashioned wooden signs to Santa’s Village and various ‘Twelve Days of Aspen’ events and activities start appearing in front of me. I start to see families and children making their way in the indicated directions too, often accompanied by the kind of gleeful laughter and energy that I thought only really existed in those idyllic Christmas movies that I like watching around this time.
I exchange smiles and nods, enjoying the novelty of people who actually greet others on the street - something that’s almost bizarre after New York City - and watching as everything starts to unfold in front of me, the lighting and beauty of the place growing more impressive with every street. By the time I actually reach the downtown area, I’m grinning from ear to ear…and then I have to stop, my heart soaring at the sight of everything I hoped it would be.
The soft sound of carolers in the distance welcomes me into the maze of bright wooden stalls, all with lights and decorations hanging from them, and the scent of delicious food spurs me onward even as I just want to stop and enjoy the children running around, the shrieks of laughter and excitement, the semi-carnival noises of games and activities…just everything.
It’s overwhelming in all the best ways and I spend the longest time just walking around and taking it all in, spotting the Santa’s grotto and photo-booth-sleigh for the children as I go, as well as the marquee-turned-bar for the adults, an outdoor ice rink and a platform showcasing the carolers I’d heard as I approached.
By the time I’ve seen everything there is on offer, I’m more than ready to jump in, and I spend the rest of my afternoon participating in as much of it as possible. I fall over a dozen times trying to remember how to skate, try more delicious snacks than I probably should and chat to the locals as I wander around the different stalls, buying souvenirs I probably don’t need and losing continuously at the different games on offer.
I try my hand at every age-appropriate activity I can find…and a few that are slightly more on the edge, laughing as I make gingerbread houses alongside a couple of children and their parents, just because I can’t resist.
It’s a wonderful feeling, getting to revel in all the things that have always made this holiday so special to me - the universal cheer and how connected I feel to everyone around me - in a place like this, but there are still moments it feels a little strange to be here by myself. I keep thinking how much Josh and Aiden would love to be running around here, and how Hannah and I would laugh together as we spoil them far more than their parents would, joining in with half of their misadventures ourselves. There’s something about Christmas with children…it’s hard not to get a slight pang as I look at the other families around me and think how much my family would love it here.
We’ll have to all come together sometime.
I tell myself that even though I know it will probably never happen. They’re too set in their ways and traditions - the ones I’ve always loved too - and I can imagine all the arguments and objections to anything that requires more time, money and effort than Christmas already does. Especially from my brother and sister-in-law. Which is fair, when they have three kids to multiply all of that exponentially…but still. It would be nice. And I focus on that, to avoid my thoughts going in the other natural direction…how nice it would be to bring my own kids here one day…and the stomach-clenching minefield that might lead to.
“Okay, I’m done.” I finally say, stepping back with an exasperated smile as I miss my target yet again. The older woman in front of the roped-off area smiles broadly back at me, her wrinkled visage and the too-big festive hat she’s wearing giving her the most charming old-lady look. Which is no doubt how she keeps getting me to part with my precious one-dollar-bills. “I’ll quit while I’m behind.”
“Aw, c’mon Lauren, just one more time. You’ll get it this time, I know you will!” She says, her hopeful expression almost too much to deny, full of sparkling eyes and sympathy.
“That’s what you said last time!” I say, laughing it off.
“You’ve practiced so many times now, you can’t fail.”
“Your faith in my abilities is touching, but…”
“Here. It’s on me.” She offers, taking a dollar out of her own purse and slamming it into the bucket. That’s the other reason I keep playing, despite my string of losses and the very-possibly-rigged game…all the proceeds will go to the local school. It’s basically the same as donating to charity, only an awful lot more fun. “You deserve the win.”
“Really, it’s fine.” I grin, genuinely touched. “You don’t have to—”
“Too late!” She announces, making up a fresh batch of snowballs and setting them on the table beside me. “I can’t have my most loyal customer walk away completely empty-handed. And besides, I have a feeling you could do with a win, eh, girl?”
I blink, slightly taken aback. We’ve chatted pleasantly over the last fifteen minutes of me making a fool of myself, but I didn’t think the rough time I’d had this year was that apparent.
Maybe it isn’t. Maybe that was just an idle comment…or maybe she’s one far-too-observant Grandma.
“Okay, okay.” I hold my hands up, appreciating her all the same. “One more try—but this is the last one, I swear.”
“Of course, of course.” She responds the exact same way as she has the last five times I’ve said that, but this time I really mean it.
I pick up a snowball, turn it in my hands a few times to make sure it’s packed together properly - which it always is, Grandma knows what she’s doing - and then eye the plastic buckets shaped to look like snowmen bodies in front of me. I’ve got five snowballs to throw and if I can get just one of them in, I’ll get a prize and can leave my embarrassment behind.
I’m just poised to throw when she interrupts once more.
“Try taking your gloves off.” She suggests with an earnest expression. “It’ll help.”
I glance back at her dubiously, the idea of exposing my already-cold hands to the snow not terribly appealing, but she seems to genuinely want me to win - and this one is on her - so I oblige, tugging my gloves off.
“Brrr…” I shiver as I start to notice the effects of standing still for too long out here too, but I take the snowball anyway, tossing it from one hand to another as I turn back to look at the targets. So far, I’ve tried aiming for just about all of them without any luck, so I go fall back on the nearest - the one I originally thought was a given, before getting suspicious of it - once again.
With the snowball freezing my bare skin, I don’t spend long trying to judge it or work out my
approach, I simply throw it and watch it fall…straight into the snowman I was aiming for.
“Wait…really?!” I stare at it in surprise for a moment, then jump up in excitement as elation fills me. “Yessssss! I did it! I actually finally did it!”
I pull the older woman into a hug, grinning at her as she chuckles at me.
“Hah! Look at that!” I whoop, looking back at it in satisfaction as I celebrate. It’s a dumb thing to be this happy about, sure, but it’s the little things that count sometimes.
“So what do I win?” I ask as I finally let her go, to which she tuts and shakes her head at me, pointing back to the table.
“You’ve still got four more to go. Go on!”
“Hah, yeah, because I’m going to get any more in. I think I’ve used up my luck for today.” I shake my head, but I do as I’m bidden and pick the next snowball up, barely noticing the sting against my fingers this time.
I throw again and despite totally missing the snowman I was aiming for, it skitters across the top of another…and into a third. I just stare.
“C’mon, c’mon, you’re on a roll now.” The woman encourages, stepping up onto her tiptoes to watch. I think she’s giving me far too much credit, but I can’t deny the slight thrill as I pick up the next one. Really, I would be happy with the basic prize soft toy, but I give the next three snowballs everything I’ve got—and I’m stunned with the result. All three find their mark.
I got nothing for over a dozen tries - zip, nada, nothing - and now I get five snowballs in?! If I didn’t know better I’d say Grandma had rigged it for me this last time.
“Winner! Winner!” She announces, ringing a bell that I didn’t even see was attached to the table, and bringing a total flush to my cheeks as heads turn in our direction. “We have a winner!”
“Um…”
“You did it!” She grins at me, and there are suddenly way too many people watching for something this insignificant. “Top prize!”
“Um, thanks.” I say, trying to laugh it off with a shrug. “Though really, if it’s a good one—you put the money in for that round, maybe you should—”
“Nonsense! You’re a visitor here, right?”
“Ah, yeah.” I nod, not at all surprised that it’s that obvious.
“Top prize gets you two Activities Passes for the Ullr Nights event, with dinner and drinks included. It’s a fine prize—you must have heard about the Ullr Nights party?”
“Um…” I hesitate, uncomfortably aware of my ignorant-tourist status as I try to think. “Maybe? I think so…”
I’m pretty sure I saw a sign for that somewhere. Didn’t I?
“Pfff…” She shakes her head. “It’s one of the best parts of the winter season down here, of course you know it! You can’t come to stay in Aspen and miss the Ullr Nights party. It’s up on Snowmass, at Elk Camp, you must have heard of it—every Friday night, so that’s…tomorrow! You don’t have any plans, do you? Here, take them, take them, I go every year…”
She pushes the tickets into my hands and I laugh a little as I hold them up in surrender. There was never any arguing with my grandmother, either.
“I guess I do now.” I grin at her. “Thanks!”
“You’ll love it.” She promises, ringing that bell again and calling out in a much louder voice than she has any right to, much to my embarrassment. “We have a winner—winner!”
“Okay, okay…” I laugh, holding up my hands again as I get a few comments of congratulations from passers-by, some of whom have clearly heard our conversation and start trying to tell me just how good the Ullr Nights winter party is.
I’m imbued with that sense of camaraderie all over again - as well as more than a little excitement for my unexpected prize - and I enjoy that sense of community spirit…right up until I start getting requests to show off my snowball-throwing-skills, and then I beat a hasty retreat. I’m pretty sure my one-off performance there was dumb luck, and I have no intention of sticking around to show anyone just how badly my previous attempts went.
Instead, I wander back through Aspen’s main streets, taking a route away from the activities this time and letting myself be drawn into every store offering warm lights and inviting Christmas music. I’m a little surprised how up-market everything here seems to be - I guess this is a vacation spot for people with slightly higher budgets than me - but the sights, scents and sounds of it all are too much to resist…and there’s something fun about browsing expensive stores even if I have no intention to actually buy anything.
Not that I ever quite manage to stick to that plan.
Yep. By the time I get to the other side of town, my bags are much heavier and my bank balance much lighter, but I can’t exactly say I regret it. I found the perfect vase to give my sister as a wedding gift, with a unique design that complements their new house decor in a way I just know she’ll love. It’s exactly the kind of thing I was searching for to accompany the more personal photo-book I’m compiling, of her life from childhood through to finding her soul mate, complete with crazy dating mishaps and the fun memories we’ve shared together.
Or at least, the photo-book I was compiling. I still have a fair bit of work to do there, and I haven’t felt able to touch it in months.
There are too many photos of Greg in there…I never thought I’d end up regretting how well the four of us got on together.
Well, after this trip, it’ll be a brand new year and I can make a new start of it all. The idea of finally putting this year behind me would be a relief…even if it does leave me with a strange sense of longing too.
It’s getting easier to deal with that, though, and I console myself pretty easily with some of the other nice purchases I made…for myself, this time. A few luxury bath salts I’m already excited to use tonight, a gorgeous pair of shoes that I definitely needed and some decadent truffles to thank Tristan for cooking us dinner for the next few nights. All in all, a very successful time…so long as I ignore the ‘just looking’ purpose, anyway.
I call Max for a ride back to the cabin, spending the entire time gushing about how beautiful Aspen is and getting more whole-hearted recommendations to make the most of my Ullr Nights prize tomorrow, before walking in to the delicious scent of chili wafting from the kitchen.
“Oh, my. I could get used to this.” I say with a smile, putting my bags down on the couch and walking forward to investigate.
Tristan sticks his head out of the kitchen, meeting me halfway. “Dinner will be ready in about an hour—glad you’re back in time.”
“Me too. Thanks again, Tristan.” I grin, holding out the box of truffles. “Here, I got these for afterward. Or before. Or just anytime we fancy chocolate, really.”
He laughs. “I can get on board with that. Just give me a moment and I’ll set it to simmering.”
“Don’t worry, you don’t need to—” I start, but in his usual fashion he’s already disappeared, so I shrug and start sorting out my purchases.
“I have something to show you.” He says a few moments later, startling me as he appears from the kitchen. He comes to look over my shoulder, raising an eyebrow at my various bags. “You bought half of Aspen while you were out, I see?”
“I’m a firm proponent of retail therapy.” I announce, but I manage to clear most of it off the couch so we can sit down, at least.
“And what has you so bent out of shape that it needs this much therapy?” He says as I turn around to face him, that smirk playing around his lips as his eyes twinkle with their increasingly familiar humor, even as his teasing comment hits the mark a little too closely to be amusing.
“You have no idea…” I mutter, before shaking my head and deliberately pushing that aside. “So, what did you want to show me?”
“I finished editing those pictures—you said you wanted to see them once I had.”
“Ooh!” I grin, suddenly excited as I sit down while he grabs his laptop and comes over to join me.
Nice new professional photos t
o highlight all my best qualities? Yes please.
He takes a seat next to me on the couch, the soft cushions bringing us a little closer together than I’d expected, and I’m immediately slightly too aware of the firmness of his warm body next to me. He doesn’t seem to notice as he clicks through his laptop, finally bringing up a folder and handing the laptop over to me.
“Here they are.” He says, smiling. “What do you think?”
I glance at the thumbnails in the folder, frowning in slight confusion at that initial impression, before clicking on the first one and…
Oh.
I have to stop myself from laughing. Not at the photo—purely at myself and my own ridiculous assumptions. A feeling that only intensifies as I look through them, the amusement tugging at my mouth as I try to keep a straight face.
“You don’t like them.” Tristan says, looking at me with the kind of intent scrutiny that makes it impossible to hide, before tilting his head in curiosity. “Why not? What’s wrong with them?”
As far as I can tell, he’s genuinely interested and not the slightest bit offended. Thank goodness.
“No, no, it’s not that. I think they’re wonderful.” I say, and I mean it.
They are beautiful photos. Breathtaking. They’re just not…really…of me.
“They’re just not what I expected.” I add, as some of the laughter slips past my defenses and I give into it, smiling at him crookedly.
“Oh? What were you expecting?” He seems even more curious now.
“Some sexy close-ups for my next dating profile.” I say, without missing a beat. I figure I might as well admit it—and the expression on his face as he just stares at me makes me laugh all over again.
“I mean, there’s no doubt you’ve got the artistry down here.” I continue, nonchalant. “These are definitely the better photos, with my silhouette against the startlingly white landscape, the lonely looking cabin—all very evocative, I’ll give you that, but…if I try to use these, well, I’ll definitely get called out on trying to disguise my appearance or showing off the fancy places I’ve been.”
