by Donna Alward
“Hey, muffin, I came to take you sledding, but I’m afraid the princess dress isn’t going to cut it.”
The teddy bear was dropped unceremoniously to the floor. “I can change. Can’t I, Aunt Molly?”
“Yes, you can. Your clothes are on top of your bed.”
With a squeal, Sara skidded out of the room.
“The invitation still extends to you, you know,” he said into the silence left by Sara’s exit. His hand still tingled from the feel of her palm in it.
She avoided his eyes, going instead to tidy up CD cases. “I probably should finish up here.”
“Leave it until tomorrow. Good sledding doesn’t happen every day, you know,” he cajoled. “We’ll never get a more perfect day. Besides, you know Sara’s going to ask you to come. You might as well stop fighting it and get ready.”
“Oh, all right.” She put down her dust cloth. “I suppose one afternoon out isn’t going to kill me.”
She was halfway to the door when he tossed out, “Hey, this is supposed to be fun. Remember? It’s not like you’re walking to the gallows. Leave your bad attitude at home.”
He heard her mutter something under her breath as she headed for the stairs and he laughed. Teasing Molly, knowing which buttons to push, had always been so much fun. He’d known how to do it back then and hadn’t forgotten. When Kim had first suggested Molly come, he’d dreaded seeing her again. He’d told Kim at the hospital he’d wished she’d never come, but he knew deep down that wasn’t true. Now he was starting to realize he was glad she’d come home. They’d supposedly been over for a long time, but their chapter had remained unfinished. Now, by getting closer, perhaps they could put to rest the ghosts that had haunted them all this time. Leave each other with some good memories instead of a bitter aftertaste.
“Uncle Jason, I need help.”
He jumped when Sara’s voice intruded from the foyer. How long had he been standing there? Hurrying out of the living room, he saw Molly coming down the stairs wearing the ski pants to Kim’s set. Sara was on the bottom step, doggedly trying to pull her pant leg down over her boot.
“Here, honey, I’ll do that,” he said, kneeling before her while Molly scooted around him and retrieved her own boots.
“We set?”
“Yeah!” cried Sara, and Jason laughed.
“Toboggan’s in the truck. Let’s go.”
*
The big hill, the one Jason and Molly had loved, was crowded with teenagers and university students with toboggans, Krazy Karpets and saucers. Molly laughed as one inventive boy sat on the blade of a steel shovel, holding the handle in front of him for steering. Jason looked down at Sara sitting on the toboggan while he pulled it and decided the hill next to it was a bit gentler and better for Sara’s size.
“Over there?” He lifted his chin toward the area, and Molly nodded in assent.
The afternoon was alive with chirping birds and the squeal and swish of sleds and inner tubes rushing down the hills. Jason reached the top and took a minute to straighten his back from tugging Sara up the slope. Some things seemed timeless, and seeing the hill crowded like it always had been years before took him back. They’d done this often. They’d spend the afternoon sledding, then head to the pub for some hot chocolate and Bailey’s to ward off the chill. But in the years since he hadn’t found any joy in the sport. Now that Sara was old enough, he welcomed the feeling of anticipation, the way his breath clouded on the air, the screams of those brave ones behind him hurtling down the steep hill.
“Pumpkin, you ready?”
Brown eyes peered up at him anxiously from above her scarf. “I dunno.”
“I’m going to sit right behind you, okay?” He looked up at Molly, her face obscured by a puff of air as she exhaled. “You give us a push to get started?”
“Sure.”
He sat on the long wooden end of the sled, tucking his boots near the front curve and keeping Sara cradled safely within his legs. It had been years since he’d gone sledding, and childish glee rushed through him as Molly’s hands pushed against his back and the toboggan began to move.
“Hang on, kiddo!” He looped the yellow rope around his gloved hands and away they went, skimming over the snow, the wind cold on their cheeks as the bottom of the hill rushed nearer and nearer. Sara squealed, Jason laughed, then all too soon they slid to a stop.
By the time he reached the top again, he was out of breath. “You’re heavy for a little mite,” he quipped, then aimed a deadly smile at Molly. “You’re next.”
He’d expected resistance, but got none. With an impish grin, she tucked herself around Sara. What the heck? he thought, and sat on the end of the sled, looping his legs over so his boots rested in Molly’s lap. She held the rope and he used his knuckles to push off, laughing at Molly’s “whoop” as they slid even faster this time.
At the bottom, a fir tree came rushing towards them and Molly tried valiantly to shift her weight and turn the toboggan, but to no avail. When they were close enough to see the needles on the branches, Jason shifted his weight to the left and they tumbled over into the hard white snow.
Legs, arms and rope were all entangled as they caught their breath, then Sara started giggling hysterically. “That was fun. Do it again!”
Jason became very aware that Molly, while off the toboggan, was still nestled between his legs. Her hat was askew and her cheeks were bright pink from the cold and laughing. For a moment, it was as if the past six years hadn’t happened at all, and they were simply Molly and Jason, the couple, out for an afternoon of fun. In this kind of situation, he would have pinned her to the snow and kissed the tip of her nose, promising all kinds of retribution for later. He stared into her eyes and knew she was remembering, too. Perhaps that had been the true purpose of this afternoon. It was a chance for her to see the past, to remember without rancor the kind of relationship they’d had. The kind of person she’d been—carefree and fun. Maybe what they really needed was to be able to remember the good times instead of the bad ending defining all that had been. Years of good memories had been clouded by a bad ending. It was easier to remember them when they were like this.
He dragged his gaze from hers and put on a cocky grin. “Since you made us dump, you get to haul her up the hill.”
“Me?” Molly’s lips thinned in indignation. “You’re the one who tipped us, you creep.”
“Maybe. But if you’d done a better job of steering, I wouldn’t have had to save your necks at all.”
She blustered as he blithely he picked up the sled, dumped the excess snow off of it and slapped it back down before walking away.
“You’re going to pay for that,” she warned.
He heard the hiss of them following behind and laughed. “Whatever, Mol. You don’t scare me.”
At the top of the hill, he needled her further. “Why don’t you and Sara go alone this time? I think my extra weight made us go farther. That way you won’t be near the trees.”
“Yeah, just me and Aunt Molly!” came the cheer from the sled. Sara clapped her hands.
Molly smiled up at him, baring her teeth. “Chicken.”
Gamely she sat, and he noticed she could actually tuck her boots right into the curve of the toboggan. He’d forgotten how small her feet were. He remembered them now, delicately arched and always with painted nails. Her eyes gleamed up at him from Kim’s black and grey suit. “Coward,” she whispered, taunting, while he grinned back at her like a fool.
He wasn’t opposed to taking a little teasing either. In fact, in teasing each other, he felt closer to her than he had since she’d arrived. “Be careful who you’re calling a coward,” he warned with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
“We’ll see.”
“Need a push?”
“Go for it.”
He put all his weight into pushing them, skidding in his boots and tripping, landing on his belly in the snow as Sara and Molly hurtled down the hill.
He watched, half laughing at him
self, half at them when they hit a dip, got some air and tumbled over and over in the snow, finally landing in a brilliant pouf of white, unmoving.
His heart hit his throat as his face froze. Oh God. They weren’t moving. “Mol?” he shouted, leaping to his feet. “Sara?”
As that single second of panic passed, he realized a tumble like that couldn’t cause any real damage. Heading down the hill, he heard a giggle and a quick shhh and knew they were up to something. Stealthily he bent, scooped up a mitt of snow and molded it in his glove. You’re going to pay for that, she’d warned, and he couldn’t help the feral smile that curved his lips. If it was a fight she was spoiling for, she’d get it.
“Ambush!” went up the cry. Molly sprang to life, leaping from her position, hurling a snowball and hitting him square in the chest. “I’m not tugging her up there this time, Elliot! Coward!”
Sara’s laughter bubbled over the thin, cold air as he laughed freely. “That all you got, Shaeffer?” He took aim and let his own fly. Then ran over the snow, boots squeaking, to catch her around the waist, preventing her next throw. Instead she twisted, crushing the snowball and squishing it squarely in his face, rubbing it in and giving him a washing.
Quicker than he thought possible, he grabbed her wrist, hooked a boot behind her foot and tripped her, pushing her into the snow and landing on top of her heaving chest. He sat up, straddling her, and stared down into her face which had gone utterly blank with surprise.
“Don’t…” she warned him, her words a shaky stutter in the cold afternoon.
His voice was soft, deadly. “Don’t what? Don’t wash your face? Don’t start what you can’t finish, Molly m’girl.” His lips were teasing, his eyes flashing fun as he raised a snow-filled hand menacingly.
Her eyes changed from shock to fear. Not of his strength, of that he was sure. But because she was realizing, as he did, that she still mattered. Discovering there was still so much between them, and he was torn between knowing this should be the end and the increasing realization that it felt like a beginning. It wasn’t what he’d wanted and she’d made it clear it wasn’t what she wanted either. But there it was, and he had no idea what to do with it.
He let the snow in his hand flutter back to the ground as his smile faded. He was used to being in control of situations and knowing this one was rapidly getting out of hand only added to his confusion. It was far easier to be angry at her.
“That was a stupid, childish trick, and you know it.” His voice was silk lined with steel. “That sled popped up in the air and I saw Sara fall out first. She’s so small… For a moment, my heart stopped.”
“It was only a joke,” she answered, her voice small and childish in response to his criticism, her jaw jutting out defensively. Sara grabbed the rope to the toboggan and tried to turn it over to clean it off.
He clapped a black glove to his forehead in exasperation. “What am I going to do with you, Molly?”
She didn’t answer but stared up at him with wide eyes. He became acutely aware of the intimacy of their position as he sat squarely on her hips.
He braced a hand on each side of her head, dropped his gaze to her mouth and followed with his lips.
They were cold in contrast to the warmth of her mouth, and he poured everything into that punishing kiss—his anger, his hurt, his confusion over what was happening between them now. Her hand rested on his left thigh as he pressed more weight into her, feeling all the pressure points where their bodies connected. This couldn’t go anywhere, it couldn’t. He had to stop it, now. They’d only get hurt again, the voice of reason intruded. But his heart spoke louder, and for once, he listened. He took the kiss deeper, darker.
Molly had known by the look in Jason’s eyes what was coming, but she hadn’t been prepared by the force, the passion, the anger that poured from him into her. She didn’t know what was happening to her lately, only that they kept hurting each other without even intending to. She rested her hand on his thigh, desperately trying to keep up with him as his body pinned her to the hard, snowy ground and his mouth translated his frustration.
Seconds ticked by and his lips gentled, prodding instead of punishing, deep, soul-searing contact that spoke to her more clearly than his words ever could. He didn’t hate her. He cared. Cared more than she wanted to admit to herself. Not only cared…but had probably never stopped. All that was said, and more, as they kissed in the icy snow.
She gently pushed against his shoulder and their mouths parted a few inches, their breath creating frosty clouds, a white nimbus around their faces.
In another week, she’d be returning to her life as a corporate lawyer. They still didn’t have a future, but they did have a past to finish.
Molly turned her head to the side and saw Sara standing watching them, her lips formed in a perfect ‘O’. One hand held the rope to the toboggan, the other outstretched, pointing towards them.
“You kissed Aunt Molly,” she whispered.
Molly’s face heated. Goodness, she’d completely forgotten about Sara standing there, and what a show they’d put on, making out in the snow. Certainly not something appropriate for a three-year-old!
Her gaze shifted to Jason and he was blushing as furiously as she was sure she was. He pushed back, swung his leg over Molly so he was kneeling beside her.
“Well now, I guess I did.” His self-deprecating laugh rippled over the freezing air. “You guys gave me quite a scare.”
“Molly and Jason sitting in a tree,” Sara began the chant, her eyes alight with impish glee. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes love, then comes…”
“Where did you ever learn that?” Molly demanded, scrambling to a seated position, stopping the song before Sara got any further.
“In day care,” Sara explained nonchalantly. “Cody kissed Katie and Brianna taught it to me.”
Jason cleared his throat while Molly fought to keep a straight face. “Honey, Jason and I have known each other a long time. He was worried we were hurt, that’s all.”
Sara hopped around, obviously enjoying the moment. “When you get a boo-boo, you get a Band-Aid,” she explained.
“And a kiss better, right?” Jason lunged forward and scooped the pink bundle into his lap. “You hurt anywhere, muffin?”
“Maybe here.” She lifted an elbow, which Jason dutifully kissed.
“And here.” She touched her nose, and Molly choked out a laugh as the tot fairly simpered.
“You’re a flirt,” Jason confirmed, but kissed the tip of her nose anyway. “Let’s get this sled up the hill. What do you say?”
“Okay. I’m ridin’.”
They stayed another half hour for Sara’s sake, but there was less laughter and more tension between them as they went up and down the hill. Molly couldn’t escape the ramifications of the kiss, the feel of his stubble against her cheek or the way she’d been able to read his feelings. They’d always been like that, understanding each other without words, and Molly wasn’t prepared to deal with what Jason had said to her today. They both kept saying they were over, but she knew that was a lie. She had to put some distance between them until she could figure out what to do. The fact that there was anything to figure fazed her more than anything else.
Finally, Jason called it quits. He sat wearily on the snow. “Last one, kiddo. My poor legs can’t haul you up anymore.”
They piled on the sled, one behind the other, and Jason pushed them off. At the bottom, Molly felt him rest his forehead against her knitted hat, his breath warming the back of neck as he sighed heavily, just for a moment. Then he untangled his legs from hers and lifted the toboggan to carry it to the truck.
She met his eyes as she took Sara’s mittened hand.
“We need to talk,” he murmured low enough so only she could hear.
Talk? She couldn’t make sense of her own feelings, let alone his. The only thing she could do was pretend she hadn’t heard him.
Chapter Seven
They went back to Jason’s house f
or hot chocolate, at Sara’s request.
After that kiss, all Molly wanted to do was disappear and brood, but Sara was demanding treats, and Molly knew the rest of the day would be a disaster of pouting niece if they didn’t give in. Hopefully, there’d be no time to talk. Molly simply wasn’t prepared. How could they possibly work things out when she didn’t even understand her own feelings?
Jason made cocoa from scratch while Molly watched him from across the room. He frothed the milk with a wire whisk while Sara romped with Bubbles and Molly put out a plate of store-bought cookies. In some ways Jason was unpredictable, but in others…
Oh, in others. The way he kissed hadn’t changed at all. He had a style, a taste that was simply Jason, one she was helpless to resist. One that was as natural to her as the sunrise each day. As he brought the steaming mugs to the table, topped with fluffy white marshmallows, she swallowed hard to stop remembering. To stop wanting him again.
“I only filled yours half, muffin,” he explained, putting the cup before Sara. “But you can have more if you want it.”
Sara happily munched on oatmeal raisin and sipped her cocoa, using a finger to dab at the white blobs on the top. Silence fell, heavy and awkward, until Sara finished her snack and headed for the living room and television, clearly subdued after her busy afternoon.
“Mol…”
She stopped him with a look as she cleared mugs off the table. “Not now. I can’t talk about this now.”
“Then when? Because we should talk about what happened. Today and the other day, too.”
She aimed a furtive, frustrated glare in his direction. “Nothing happened, okay? Nothing that can happen again.”
“We can’t pretend it didn’t happen, Mol.”
“Yes, we can!” She turned her back to him, rinsed the mugs and put them in his dishwasher. She wondered how his voice could sound so calm and rational when everything was churning up inside of her. “We can because it changes nothing!”
