Love on the Lifts

  “Looked like you had someone last night…on the deck,” Leah said. “Or was it just an optical illusion that made it look like you were kissing Joe?”

  I felt the heat rush to my face. I wasn’t cold anymore.

  “I wasn’t kissing him. He was kissing me, but he said it’s no big deal.”

  “Yeah, sure. It certainly looked like a big deal.”

  “I don’t even know how you could see us. We were in the dark.”

  “You were a shadowy silhouette. Trust me, we saw.”

  Which meant Sam saw, too. I couldn’t believe he hadn’t said anything. Probably because it would have embarrassed his friend. Not because he wanted to spare me any mortification. Sam didn’t work that way. At least not where I was concerned.

  Not wanting to follow this trail of conversation any further, I stood up and unzipped my jacket. “I need to get ready for the movie.”

  “Your big date?” Leah said, wiggling her eyebrows.

  “No, we’re just friends.”

  “I don’t kiss my friends.”

  “Will you let it go?” I asked. “He knows how I feel about Brad. He’s not making any moves on me.”

  “If you say so.”

  Honestly, my friends were becoming as irritating as my brother.

  “I like him better than I like Brad,” Allie said.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. I made a little waving motion with my hands. “Now, go, so we can all get ready.”

  Once they left, I dropped back down onto the edge of my bed, stared at the floor between my snow boots.

  Having everyone witness my failure with Brad hadn’t been fun. Even though I trusted Allie and Leah with everything…I wasn’t quite ready to admit that maybe I was falling for Joe…just a little.

  Brad was a player. For all I knew, Joe was, too.

  I mean, really, why had he kissed me?

  How did a girl know when she could trust a guy not to break her heart?

  Chapter 15

  “What about this one?” I asked, pointing to a picture of Aunt Sue standing beside a man with a camera slung around his neck. They both wore safari hats and brown clothing. The foliage was thick behind them. I thought it was taken during one of her trips to Africa, because a guy who was about eight feet tall was also standing beside her. A tribal chief, I thought.

  “Nah, he doesn’t look like a Michael,” Joe said.

  We’d decided to stop by A Novel Place on our way to the movie to see if we could locate the mysterious love of Aunt Sue’s life. Sam and Allie were going to meet us at the Last Buck. Leah was meeting Ian at the Avalanche. Brad had been AWOL at supper, which was a shame because the stew had been really delicious—a little short on vegetables, though. Now I knew why Allie was so keen on fixing it the way that Sam wanted it.

  “What does a Michael look like?” I asked.

  Joe shrugged. He was wearing a bulky green sweater that made his eyes turn green. I was wearing a green sweater as well, but my eyes would have looked green regardless.

  “We’ll know him when we see him,” he assured me.

  So far, we’d looked at about two dozen pictures. The most difficult part was that they were spread throughout the store with no rhyme or reason. Some hanging on the walls, some displayed on bookshelves. Some were just of Aunt Sue. Most had someone else in them, but seldom the same person. There was no pattern, no one who always showed up.

  “Maybe he was the one always taking the pictures,” I muttered.

  “She said there was a picture of him here.”

  I looked around. There were so many nooks and crannies. A Novel Place had a lot of novel places that displayed various items. It was almost like being in a room of mirrors where all the mirrors reflected all the other mirrors into infinity. I got dizzy just thinking about it.

  Joe glanced at his watch. “If we want to make the beginning of the movie, we’re going to have to go.”

  I took a last look around the bookstore. Paige was behind the register counter, but Aunt Sue was nowhere to be found. Probably off at the U-Sack-’Em buying steaks for tomorrow. I needed to tell everyone we were doing that tomorrow night. I’d see Aunt Sue in the morning and tell her about Ian, because he’d probably join us. And I’d make her show me the picture of Michael.

  “Okay,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  It wasn’t a far walk to the Last Buck. Sam and Allie were standing out there waiting for us.

  “They changed movies,” Allie said.

  Joe looked at the marquee and groaned. They were now showing a chick flick.

  “I say we blow off the movie and head to the Avalanche,” Sam said.

  “Sounds good to me,” Joe said.

  I considered the options. Sitting in the dark with Joe, while Sam and Allie got it on beside us—I wasn’t naive enough to think my brother wouldn’t take advantage of the dark—or head to a place with pretty much the same offerings that we had last night. The Avalanche would at least provide an opportunity to mingle with people.

  I glanced at Allie and could see that her mind was made up. Whatever Sam wanted, she wanted. And I hadn’t really wanted to go to a movie, anyway.

  “I’m okay with the Avalanche,” I said.

  So off we went, with all our gloved hands stuffed into our jacket pockets. To see us, no one would guess that at least two of us were a couple.

  What was up with that, anyway?

  In the main area, the Avalanche had a live band playing. The Ski Lifts.

  I don’t know if that was the band’s real name or if that was just the name they used when they played at ski resorts. I mean, I couldn’t exactly see them ever making an appearance on David Letterman with a name like that.

  Like Paige and her bookstore name.

  “That isn’t her real name, by the way,” Joe said.

  We’d joined Leah and Ian at their table. Ian did have a delicious accent.

  “It’s good to meet you, mates,” he’d said, his Australian accent thick. “My sheila talks about you all the time.”

  I’d shaken my head. Couldn’t any of these guys get the names right?

  “Her name is Leah,” I’d said, knowing how it hurt to have a guy call you the wrong name.

  “Sheila is what they call girls in Australia,” Leah said, a look of adoration on her face. “He’s saying that I’m his girl.”

  “Come on, Leah love,” he’d said then. “Let’s dance.”

  Leah love? How adorable. I could see why she was falling for this guy. They moved to the dance floor. Allie and Sam went to the back room where there were Foosball tables and a TV showing a football game. Leaving me and Joe to guard the table from the tourists who were searching for a place to sit. The place was crowded tonight.

  I stared at Joe, trying to figure out what he’d been trying to say. “What?”

  “Paige Turner. That’s not her real name.”

  “How did you know I was thinking about Paige?”

  Shaking his head, he grinned. “I didn’t. I was just watching the Ski Lifts, thinking that a band with such a bland name would never show up on Letterman—”

  “Oh, my gosh, that’s exactly what I was thinking.”

  His grin grew. “Really?”

  Too bizarre. I nodded.

  “Great minds, huh?”

  I returned his smile. “I guess so.”

  “Well, anyway, thinking of the band’s name reminded me about Paige, and since we’d talked about her being in the witness protection program,” he shrugged, “I forgot to tell you that I asked her last night about her name.”

  “She’s not in the witness protection program, is she?” I asked, somewhat disappointed that I was going to have to give up on my theory.

  “Nope. She’s an official member of the what-were-my-parents-thinking-when-they-named-me club.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “So what did they name her?”

  “She wouldn’t say.”

  “Bummer! Why is everyone being so se
cretive this year? Aunt Sue and now Paige.”

  “She said she’ll only tell her husband and only after they’ve been married for a while.”

  I laughed. “Well, I guess you could offer to marry her in order to learn her deep, dark secret.”

  “Even talking marriage makes me break out in hives. That is so far down on my to-do list that I might never get to it.”

  “Mine, too.” I shook my head. “Poor Paige. So she went to work in a bookstore and decided to change her name to Paige Turner. What a hoot.”

  “Yeah, I thought so.”

  I sipped on my warm apple cider. Even though I’d already told him that Paige thought he was hot, considering the “just a kiss” he’d given me last night, I thought I should remind him that he had options. “She really likes you, you know.”

  He looked down at the table. “Yeah, I know. She wasn’t too shy about making that clear last night when we were dancing.”

  Then he peered over at me, like what he wasn’t saying was more important than what he had said. And maybe it was. Because he knew Paige liked him, and there was the girl at the ski lift that he could have hooked up with, and yet here he was with me.

  So now I had to ask myself: What are you going to do about it, Kate?

  “How important do you think guarding this table is?” Joe asked.

  I leaned closer to him. My thoughts had drifted off and I wasn’t exactly sure where he was going with this. “What?”

  “I’m starting to feel like the dullest guy at the resort. I mean, we’ve got dancing over there, Foosball in the back room, and I’m sitting here guarding a table.”

  “If we leave it unguarded, it’ll probably get taken hostage by one of these unsavory-looking tourists,” I said.

  “Probably.”

  “On the other hand, what are we saving it for?”

  “Exactly. I’ve got a hankering for a little Foosball action.”

  Okay, I have to admit that I was a little disappointed. I was hoping for a dance, close up and personal. But I may have blown my opportunity for that because I hadn’t hung around the lodge last night.

  Or maybe Foosball would be the warm-up.

  “I’m wicked awesome at Foosball,” I said. Sam had gotten a Foosball table one year for Christmas. He’d set it up in our game room back home.

  “Great! Then let’s get wild.”

  We’d barely moved away from our chairs before someone was knocking up against the table and asking, “You guys leaving?”

  I looked at Joe, who just shrugged.

  “Yeah,” I told the guy. He started waving frantically for his friends.

  Joe and I wended our way through the mass of bodies and finally arrived at the gaming room. A TV was set near the ceiling in each of the four corners. The volume was turned down to a tolerable level so multitasking could take place. Games played, conversations going on.

  Unfortunately, this room was as crowded as the other room. Not an empty Foosball table to be found. So maybe I was going to get that dance after all.

  “What now?” I asked.

  “Let’s watch Sam and Allie,” he suggested.

  Oh, yeah, good idea. That’s really how I wanted to spend my evening.

  Joe led the way and I followed. When we got to the table, Sam called a time out.

  “Hey, what’re you guys doing?” he asked.

  “Not much,” I said.

  “Want to play teams?” he asked. “Guys against girls?”

  “Sure, why not?” I said.

  I took my place beside Allie, near the goal. Joe stood across from me and beside Sam.

  “Okay, rules,” Sam announced. “No spinning the rods. Best of nine.”

  He picked up the small ball. “Everybody ready?”

  I took hold of two of the rods, spun them, bent my knees, rolled my shoulders, got into position. Tapped my elbow against Allie’s. She grinned at me. I had a feeling she might have been holding back while she played with Sam. Either that or he had vastly misjudged my skill at this game.

  Sam gave his eyes an exaggerated roll and released a deep breath.

  Vastly misjudged it was!

  “Ready!” I announced.

  Sam dropped the ball down the chute and it rolled onto the center of the table. Allie tapped it toward my end of the table. And as soon as it was in position, I fired it into the hole.

  “Score!” I yelled, giving Allie a high five.

  Sam looked dumbfounded. He shook his head. “Beginner’s luck.”

  He took the ball, dropped it down the chute—

  Allie hit it, Joe hit it, Allie stopped it, hit it my way, I smacked it—

  “Score!” I shouted, and Allie and I exchanged another high five.

  Sam shoved Joe’s shoulder. “You’re letting her score!”

  “I’m not letting her do anything.”

  “Trade places.”

  Sam got into position and glared at me. “Let’s see how good you are with a pro across from you.”

  Joe dropped the ball down the chute, Sam made first contact, I made second, third—

  “Score!”

  “Have you been practicing with my Foosball table at home?” Sam asked.

  Grinning broadly, I said, “You bet!”

  “I didn’t give you permission—”

  “Like I need it. You should see the things I do in your room.”

  “You mess in my room?”

  I reached across the table and patted his shoulder. “I’m teasing, Sam. The only thing Allie and I touch is the Foosball table. And a few of your CDs.”

  He looked at Allie. “Were you letting me win earlier?” he asked suspiciously.

  “No, I’m just better when I’m with Kate.”

  “Switch places,” Sam ordered me.

  “What are we doing, playing musical partners here?”

  He took my arm and pulled me around the table until I was beside Joe and he was beside Allie. “I didn’t know we were playing with Foosball sharks here. We’re starting over.”

  “You’re a sore loser, Sam,” I said.

  Joe leaned toward me. “You want to be at the goal end?”

  “I’d love to be at the goal end, but I’d rather face Sam. I’ll warn you, though, Allie’s sneaky. Don’t let her fool you.”

  “No giving away secrets,” Allie said, smiling.

  “Let’s play!” I said, feeling invigorated and ready to kick some butt.

  The teams were much better matched with the new arrangement. Of course, I had a secret weapon. I kept pretending the little ball was Brad and I was actually kicking his butt for being such a jerk. It felt good to unleash my anger and disappointments completely, much better than meditating him out of my system.

  And even though I’d done the Brad-ectomy the night before, this final exercise was refreshing. I wasn’t moping about him. I was actually enjoying myself.

  By the time Joe and I won two out of three games, Sam decided he’d had enough and was making rumblings about hauling his Foosball machine to college. I’d seen his dorm room. Finding a place for the table wasn’t going to happen.

  “How ’bout some air hockey?” Joe asked.

  “Sure.”

  A table had opened up and we grabbed it. Joe put the coins in to release the puck and start the air blowing. I closed my hand around the paddle and swept it over the table a couple of times.

  Joe slid the puck toward me. “You start.”

  I smacked it, he smacked it back. I love air hockey more than Foosball. The puck can go so fast and it makes this terrific smacking sound. It’s great for relieving stress or tension. I was feeling pretty relaxed—

  “Score!” I shouted as the puck slipped through the slot at Joe’s end of the table.

  Joe grabbed the puck, set it on the table, and…smack!

  Right into the slot at my end of the table. He wiggled his brows and gave me a cocky grin.

  All right, I thought to myself. A little competition.

  I put
the puck into play and we were going back and forth, hitting it hard…

  “You’re really competitive, aren’t you?” Joe asked.

  “You bet!”

  Smash, score!

  I smiled saucily. “I like to win.”

  “I figured that out this afternoon on the slopes whenever we’d race.”

  “Yeah, but you always won there.”

  “I like the fact that you didn’t pout about it.”

  He hit the puck hard and I couldn’t stop it from going into the slot. I picked up the puck.

  “I recognize skill when I see it.”

  I slammed the puck hard, but he still stopped it, sent it back my way. I sent it back his. He hit. I hit.

  He scored.

  I set us up for another volley.

  “You know, you still owe me a dance,” Joe said. And scored.

  Not fair. He’d distracted me.

  “Yeah, I guess I do.” I scored.

  “So how ’bout we dance after I beat you here?”

  Smack! Score!

  “How ’bout we dance after I beat you?”

  He gave me that warm, cute grin of his. “Works for me.”

  We went back and forth, the score always close, but he won, by one point. I was exhausted and breathing heavily by the time we were finished. And there was a line of people not so subtly breathing down our necks waiting to have their turn at the table.

  Joe sauntered around the table until he reached me. He put his hand on the small of my back, and just like last night when he’d kissed me, I could tell it was warm. The heat seeped through my sweater.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  He escorted me through the crowd until we reached the dance floor. The Ski Lifts were playing a fast-paced song.

  Joe and I started dancing. It was strange, because we weren’t touching, we were each kinda in our own little space. But the way Joe held my gaze the entire time, it was almost like there was an invisible thread pulling us toward each other.

  And I couldn’t help but wonder if I wasn’t a little like Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz, searching far and wide for something that had been in my backyard the entire time.

  Chapter 16

  It was late by the time we all got home—all being Leah, Allie, Sam, Joe, and me. Brad was still missing in action, playing nurse at Cynthia’s.