by Julie Solano
I stand by and listen to several more minutes of swishing of skis and slapping of gates, before I spot her. The yellow jacket.
She flies around the gates, effortlessly. She’s got to be going at least 50 mph. Nice cross-blocking. This girl can ski. And she’s pouring it on, in and out, weaving beautifully, until … she isn’t. In that unexpected moment, time seems to stand still. I watch her ski clip the gate in front of me. Silently, I wish her a smooth recovery, but it just doesn’t happen. Arms flailing, skis quivering, body squirming, I watch as her wide, brown eyes … SLAM right into me!
I’m down on the ground, lying flat on my back, gasping for breath, wheezing, desperate to pull in air. I feel like I was just run over by a three hundred pound lineman. Am I at football practice? What just happened? My chest feels crushed. My arm. My God, is my arm still there? I try to reach around to feel for my arm, but I can’t get to it. There’s something in the way. Something on top of me. I open my eyes to get a look at my barrier, and find an unexpected surprise weighing me down.
There, looking down at me are big, round, twinkling, brown eyes. Hold up. I’ve seen these eyes before. I squint harder, trying to make out the face above mine. Curly, brown hair. Flawless, mocha skin. Suited up in yellow and black. Yellow jacket … NO… Bumblebee. With the recognition of her face, I feel the electricity spike through my fingertips. Hell no. She skis for Mount Shasta? My cheeks burn with heat, and an uncontrollable grin overtakes my lips. “Tangles?” I laugh out.
“What the hell are you talking about? Tangles? Get your arm off of me!” She looks around, patting at the ground. “Where are my skis? Where’s my other pole?”
“Calm down a second. There’s no rush. I’m pretty sure you’re already DQ’d after that wreck.”
“You don’t need to rub it in.” She pushes against my chest.
“Take it easy. Take it easy,” I wince, still trying to catch my breath.
“Oh, sorry. Are you okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She rolls to the side, trying to take some of her weight off of me. “I’m just pissed. I’ve been trying to beat Kenzie for three years, and I almost had it this time.”
“It’s all good, Tangles,” I grunt. “Glad I could attend your yard sale,” I half chuckle, half cough.
My laugh dies off with her taunting glare. Then gradually, the crinkling around her eyes begins to soften. She’s looking at me strangely. It reminds me of that stupid movie my sister loves. The one with that Channing guy. Something about a wedding or something. She was in a coma and couldn’t remember she was married to him. Then it dawns on me. She doesn’t remember who I am. “You don’t recognize me, do you?”
She leans in closer, squinting. “Oh yeaaaaaah, you’re the jackass from the middle of the run who almost tripped me earlier. You seem to get in the way a lot.” I watch the tiniest smirk play at the corners of her mouth. She turns her head away from me and pinches her lips to one side. I know she’s hoping to hide her grin. I made her smile. She must not hate me too much.
“Oh, we’ve met before. Trust me, you’ll remember, Tangles.”
“I thought it was Yoda. Who the hell is Tangles? You must have me confused with someone else. I’ve never seen you before in my life.” She pushes off my chest and kneels off to the side of me.
“Are you just going to lay there all day?” She looks down at me lifting her eyebrows, and pinching her lips. “Never mind. Don’t answer that. I’ve already seen that you can’t board.”
“How do you know what I can and can’t do?”
She pokes me in the chest. “Well, first, you sit in the middle of runs, so you’re either an idiot, or you don’t know what you’re doing. Second, if you were good enough to board, you’d be wearing numbers, not holding a flag. Oh well, your coach has you in the right place.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You’re good for softening a landing. You know, kind of like the Pillsbury Doughboy.”
I know I haven’t hit the gym since the accident, but, wow.
“Harsh.”
“I’m just playing.” She pokes me in the tummy. “You’re supposed to laugh, now. Haven’t you seen the commercials?”
I look at her, silently. I refuse to play into her hurtful joke.
“The Pillsbury Doughboy thing, it was my way of apologizing.” Tangles stands up, leaving me lying on the ground. She gathers her skis and snaps into her bindings. She faces the course, looking down at me over her shoulder. “By the way, it’s not quite as soft as it looks … your tummy. Must’ve just been that jacket.” She giggles as she begins to push away from me. “And for future reference, it’s Avery, not Tangles.”
Future reference, huh? I crack a smile. As she heads back down the hill, I can’t help but shout out, “Later, Tangles!”
AFTER WAITING FOR A WEEK, I run back up the long, icy driveway with a small box in my hand. “It’s here!”
“What’s here?” My sister looks away from her homework, long enough to see what has me so excited.
“Peyton’s gift. Want to drive me over to give it to her?”
She stops writing and looks at me convincingly. “Caden, sooner or later, you’re going to have to get back out on that road.”
“I’ve driven.”
“Really? What? And snowmobiles don’t count. Dad has an extra truck, you know. You can’t keep relying on all of us to get you around. Besides, I thought you wanted to do this whole s’more thing with a campfire and music. That sounds like it would be better done in private. You don’t want an audience, do you?”
I think back on my elaborate plan with the right music and setting, and decide I just can’t wait that long. “Changed my mind. I don’t think she’s ready for all that, and what about my arm? It’s really hard to drive like this.” I whine. “Can’t you just take me and drop me off? You don’t have to wait around or anything.” She still doesn’t look convinced. “Look, there’s no better time than right now. Christmas is in seven days, and we’re spending the whole week helping Dad’s store get ready for the holiday parade and Night of Lights. I need to get it to her. Please.” I work my puppy dog eyes and lift my arm one more time, reminding her that I can’t do this alone.
Kaitlyn takes a deep breath and releases it in a huff. “Your arm? Sooner or later you’re going to have to stop using that excuse. Your sling has been off for over a week, and the doctor released you to snowboard, yesterday. You can do this on your own. You don’t need me.”
I don’t want to let on that the thought of driving a vehicle on the road makes me nauseous. If I never have to drive in the winter again, it will be too soon. Whenever I think about it, I can feel the tires sliding out from under me. The crunching. The rolling. I’m dizzy all over again.
“Are you okay? You look a little pale.”
“I’m fine, T. I just need a ride, that’s all.”
Kaitlyn kneels down and looks me in the eyes. “You’re my twin. I’ve known how to read the looks on your face longer than you have. I can see the way those two lines in your forehead are crunched together. I can see that little vein in your neck pumping in and out. And you know what? You’re pinching your lips together like you’re about ready to lose your breakfast. I know that look on you, brother. And that look right there … that look tells me you are not okay. You may be able to hide it from the rest of the world, but you can’t hide it from me. You’re scared to drive, aren’t you?”
I really don’t want to answer that. I stall by pulling my hands around my neck and cocking my head back toward the ceiling. Crap. She’s onto me. My body is betraying me. I can feel the little vein she was talking about, pulsing under my hand. Even worse, the sweat is beginning to make its way through my fingers. Surely, that’s going to give me away. I look back at my sister and try to explain.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Since I got out of the hospital, the terror hasn’t let up. I don’t even have to close my eyes anymore to be thrown right back into the accident. I see it as clear
as day. I feel every tug and roll of my truck. It’s a never ending nightmare. It won’t go away. It’s worse when I’m in the car. I can’t do it, T. I can’t get behind the wheel on these roads. Please just take me. I have this really cool gift. I just want to get it to her. That’s all.”
I inspect my sister’s face. She’s deep in thought. I use my twin superpower to will her out of it. Don’t overthink it, T. Come on. Leave it alone. I watch the look of intensity grow. It’s not working. I’ve got to stop the wheels turning in that head of hers before her overthinking turns to concern. “I’m good, T. I’m good. Just one last time. I’ll get back on the road after this. Besides, my gift is breakable and I want to hold it on my lap so it doesn’t shatter.”
“I guess this one time. But I’m worried about you. I know it’s going to take some time to get through this, but it’s been weeks.” She pauses and runs her fingers through her hair, tugging her head back when she reaches the nape of her neck. I can tell she’s thinking when she stares up at the ceiling and lets out a sigh. “Look, we’re all alive. We’re all moving around, breathing, feeling … We were given a second chance.” She releases her hair and looks back at me. “We’ve been blessed. We can’t waste this opportunity. You were made to do big things, Caden. The proof is that you’re still alive. There must be a reason God saved you. Saved us. He’s not going to rescue you, just to let you get in another car wreck. Don’t be afraid. Get back out there and live again.”
I have to admit, my sister makes sense. I mean the odds that I would survive that crash are slim to none. I must have something left to do, and there’s no way I can do that something without driving. Okay! I feel like I’ve been given a new lease on life. Lips pressed together, I bob my head up and down quickly. I’m pumped. I’m ready. I can do this … just not today.
“I can see you’re almost ready. How about this? I’ll let you off the hook. I’ll take you to Peyton’s, but next time, you drive. Deal?”
Relief washes over me. “Deal.”
I peek into the Christmas bag, where Peyton’s present is nestled in between layers of candy cane tissue paper. It’s beautiful. A perfect snow globe encasing a wooden footbridge, surrounded by an alpine forest. Atop the bridge are two tiny figurines embracing. The base of the globe holds a music box that plays All I Want for Christmas Is You. I’ve had it engraved to match our carving on Mule Bridge. Inside a heart it reads, Caden Loves Peyton.
I couldn’t have chosen a more perfect gift. When I shake it, it reminds me of our night on the bridge and our time by the campfire. The night we became “Cayton.” As we near her house, I pull the bag into my chest. I’m anxious to give this to her. It’s my last effort to make her remember how much we love each other. How much we belong together. I can’t wait to see the look on her face when she sees our most treasured place. When she relives our memory captured in glass, there’s no way she’s not going to feel something. This is how I’m going to get her back. I know it.
“Wait here?”
“Yep. I’ll be here, Monster Man. Go get her back.”
I’m a bit shaky as I walk up the sidewalk, back to that big, wooden door. It’s been a while. I try not to think of the last time I was here. Things look a bit different now. There are several packages out by the garbage can. Probably boxes from Christmas gifts. My eyes trace the empty boxes to a mess of papers, surrounding the garbage. Guess the neighbors left their dog out last night. I ignore the mess and face forward. I’m on a mission. I’m going to get my sweet girl back.
I plaster a smile on my face as I ring the doorbell. Here Comes Santa Claus chimes out on the other side of the door. Wow, the Carter’s have gone all out this year to spread Christmas cheer. A beautiful ribbon embellished wreath covers the stained glass window. Fluffy, green garland with scattered baby white lights adorns the railing. Daintily lit reindeer are scattered about the lawn. After all she’s been through, her parents must be working hard to make this an extra special Christmas for Peyton.
As I look back down into the bag, I hear footsteps approaching on the other side of the door. I step back slightly when I hear it begin to creak open. When I look up, my eyes meet Mrs. Carter’s. “Oh, hello, Caden. I … I wasn’t expecting you today.” Poor Mrs. Carter. She looks like she’s been through a lot over the last few weeks. She looks tired. Worn.
I hold up the gift. “Yeah, uh, I just wanted to bring Peyton her Christmas gift. Is she home?”
She looks at me, and then at the bag. I can tell she’s debating on whether to invite me in. “Yeah. She’s home. Come on in, and I’ll see if I can get her to come out.” Yes. Off the blocked list! That’s a good sign.
“Is she still having a hard time?”
“Some days are better than others. We’ll see if this is one of those days. Come on in, son.”
I step through the door to the smell of gingerbread. As I wait for Mrs. Carter to come back for me, I notice the Carter’s tree. It’s fake. I can’t smell the scent of needles. It’s not the one we cut for her in the forest. That’s odd. We picked the biggest, fullest one, special for her.
When she returns from her room, Mrs. Carter notices me looking at the tree.
“Was the tree we got at the Forks damaged? I’m sorry we didn’t do a better job of taking care of it.” I know that Brody said he delivered the Carter’s tree. We made sure to put them all in my dad’s truck.
“Oh, uh no, Caden. Peyton’s having a bit of a struggle with the smell of evergreens this year. We opted for the artificial one when we figured out that it was making her sick. I turned the tree you kids got into that beautiful wreath on the door. I just couldn’t see letting it go to waste.”
“I see. I’m sorry. But I’m glad you could use it.” That’s the strangest thing I’ve ever heard. Everyone loves the smell of Christmas trees. “So can I see her now?”
“She’s in her room. She agreed to let you go in. I think she has something she wants to give you too.”
I take a deep breath and walk down the hall. When I get to her room, her door is open. This is a good sign. “Peyton.”
“Hey. I’ve been thinking about you.” She’s sitting on the bed, but she doesn’t look up. “I’m sorry about the other night at the party. I feel kinda bad about the way I left things.”
“Don’t worry about it, babe.” What a relief. She’s actually being nice this time. “I brought you something. It’s a Christmas present.”
“Caden …”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t … okay. You didn’t have to get me anything.”
I can’t help but wondering why she hasn’t gotten up to greet me. I want to see her face. I miss her so much. Why isn’t she looking at me?
“I wanted to. It’s the least I could do. I can’t wait til you see it.”
I watch her fiddle around with a cardboard box sitting next to her. “You might want to wait to give me that. I have something to give you first.”
“Okay.” My mind is spinning, wondering what on earth Peyton is going to give me. Slowly she stands, grabbing onto the cardboard box. My mind flashes back to the collage of pictures she gave me for my birthday. It was wrapped so beautifully. The card. The paper. The bow. Everything was coordinated. Hmm, it’s not like Peyton to leave a gift unwrapped. She’s still not looking at me.
In the thirty seconds it takes her to walk across the room, the heavy silence has my mind working overtime. Does looking up still make her dizzy? Is she nervous about what’s in the box? Maybe it’s something that will spill or break if she’s not careful. I hope it’s not a puppy. I can’t take care of any animals right now. No, she wouldn’t keep something that big from me. Wait … is she keeping something from me? Her face looks a little guilty. Did she do something she regrets? Maybe she did mess around with Mason at the party. Why won’t she look at me?
When she’s finally standing within an arm’s distance, she raises the box toward me. Looking down at the ground, she speaks, “Here you go.” I set her gift on the nights
tand next to me so I can take the package. I wonder if I should look in it now, or wait until Christmas.
“Should I open it?”
“Sure. It’s your stuff.”
My stuff? When I untuck the flaps and look inside, my blood stops cold. I’m frozen in fear of what the contents mean. What the hell? Why is she giving this stuff back to me? It’s full of all the gifts I’ve given her … souvenirs we’ve collected while we were dating.
I look down at the teddy bear I won her at the harvest festival, the ticket stubs to the homecoming dance, my football jersey, and some dried flowers from the bouquets I bought her when I was still trying to win her over. “What does this mean, Peyton? Are you trying to get me to remember our time together? You don’t have to give this back to me. I still remember it all. Every last thing. It’s sweet of you to remind me, but you can put the stuff back now.” I’m pretty sure I know what this means, but I’m trying my damnedest to pretend I don’t. I work to control my shaking voice as I set the box on her bed.
She’s silent as I look at the top of her head. “Look at me, babe. Please.” Why the hell won’t she look at me?
“I can’t, Caden. I’m sorry.”
“What does this box mean, Peyton?”
“It means that I want you to have your stuff back. It doesn’t belong here anymore.”
“Oh no, no, no, no, no. It belongs here all right. That box is you and me. I gave it to you. Every single thing in that box is a little piece of me that belongs to you. You need to keep it.” Silence. She’s not just getting rid of that box. She’s getting rid of me. “You need to keep me.”
“I can’t.” She pauses, closing her eyes and shaking her head thoughtfully. “I just … can’t.”
What can I do? Shit. What can I do? “Here. Here. I have something for you. Take it.” I grab the gift from the nightstand. “I bought this for you. It’s really special. You’ll love it. It will help you remember. You love me, Peyton. I love you. Here. Go ahead. Open it.”
I watch the change in her expression as it turns from sympathy to anger. “I’m trying to be nice about this, Caden.” She begins speaking through gritted teeth. “Just take your box. I can’t take that gift. I’m giving your things back to you. Let it go. Let me go!”
