That Old Emerald Mountain Magic Read online

  “I went to check out the ski slopes, but the mountain got the better of me,” she said. “I fell and twisted my ankle, and I lost my phone, too.”

  Joy noticed with a smirk that Carmen omitted the part about their collision, as well as the part about hiking her way up a hill in pursuit of a selfie. She couldn’t blame Carmen – she probably would have said something similar if their roles were reversed – and she went down the hall to unload Mrs. Castillo’s bags. There were a half-dozen of them, all from designer stores, and Joy lined them up neatly on top of the dresser as she’d been instructed.

  When she got back to the living room, Carmen’s mom was fussing over her ankle, propping pillows beneath it to elevate it higher, and her dad was calling down to the resort to ask for a couple ice packs. Joy tried to be casual as she made her way to the door, calling to no one in particular, “Okay, well if you need anything else don’t hesitate to call the desk.”

  Carmen waved at her, giving her a slightly disappointed look, and Joy knew exactly how she felt. She would have loved to stay in that moment alone in the cabin with her a while longer, but it was probably a good thing the Castillos were home now – her shift was starting in just a couple of minutes. Mr. Castillo hung up with room service and rushed over to Joy, meeting her at the door.

  “Hold on a second,” he said, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.

  “Oh, that’s not necessary–”

  “Of course it is,” he said. “Thanks for all your help, with the bags and with Carmen’s injury.”

  “Umm…” Carmen was smirking at her from the lounge chair as her dad pressed a twenty-dollar bill into Joy’s hand. She felt guilty taking the money, but it would have seemed strange if she had refused. “Thanks.”

  She figured she could always give it back to Carmen the next time she saw her – whenever that would be. Joy stuffed the bill into the pocket of her ski pants and then grabbed her coat and left before anything more awkward could happen.

  The resort was a little quieter that evening. Joy was used to the mayhem of the day shift, especially this close to Christmas, but people usually went into town for dinner or spent the evening whiling away the hours in front of the fireplaces in the lodge. It made for an easy shift, and Joy was glad for it because after her eventful morning, she was surprisingly tired.

  Her mind kept drifting back to two points – the kiss, of course, and the stuff she’d told Carmen about her mom and her friends all moving away. Obviously, she was upset about the likelihood of Danny making Memphis his new home, but Joy wasn’t really the type to share sad details of her life with strangers – was she really that torn up about it that she had to vent to pretty girls with twisted ankles that turned them into captive audiences? Irritated, yes – she still hadn’t received so much as a text message from him – but not torn up.

  Joy got back to the apartment a little after midnight, her eyelids already feeling heavy and begging for sleep, but instead of going to bed, she turned on the Christmas tree lights and used her phone to play some instrumental Christmas music. She lay down on the couch and watched the lights twinkle on the tree, flickering on and off and casting the dark room in alternating reds and blues, yellows and greens. It was her favorite way to fall asleep when she was a kid – every night except for Christmas Eve, of course, or Santa wouldn’t come. Without Danny in the apartment to call her a weirdo, Joy figured she might as well sleep in the company of the Christmas tree tonight.

  She would have to call her mom tomorrow, during her lunch break or after work. They talked a few times a week usually, and sometimes less when Joy got caught up with the holiday rush at work. They’d already shipped their Christmas gifts to each other and Joy’s was wrapped and sitting under her tree. When her mom moved to Florida they’d started a tradition of video calling each other on Christmas morning to exchange gifts since it was impossible for Joy to get away from the resort at that time of year and impractical for her mother to come back to Colorado just to have a rheumatism flare-up. Joy knew she would see her mom in a couple of weeks when she took vacation, but tonight she was missing her.

  She had just about drifted off to sleep with visions of Carmen’s plump lips and smoldering eyes dancing in her head when the music cut out and her phone began to vibrate on the coffee table.

  Joy grabbed it, wondering if her mom’s parent sense had kicked in – it happened often enough to be a little crazy, but this time it was Danny.

  Finally.

  “Finally!” Joy said as she answered the call. “Where the hell have you been?”

  “We just finished our first show,” he said. He sounded like he was on cloud nine, and there was a lot of noise in the background – like they had literally just finished the show. “Joy, it was incredible. I can’t even describe it, being on-stage with The Hero’s Journey.”

  Joy smiled, and a lot of her anger at Danny’s utter lack of communication melted away. She had a hard time staying mad at people. “That’s really cool. Is there video of it somewhere so I can watch you?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure it’ll get posted on the band’s social media feeds,” he said, and she interrupted him.

  “Your band’s social media feeds.”

  “Not yet,” Danny said. “But I think they really like me.”

  “Told you,” Joy said. She sat up to talk to him and a slight twinge shot through her neck. It had been getting progressively stiffer all evening, and she wondered if she had gotten a mild case of whiplash from the accident. The collision had been hard enough that it was certainly possible. She massaged her neck while Danny gushed to her about the band, the music, and the fans.

  “It’s going to be an absolutely insane couple of weeks,” he said. “We’ve got shows booked almost every night, from Memphis to Maine.”

  “Wow,” Joy said. “They’re keeping you busy, that’s for sure.”

  “Definitely,” he answered. “Sorry I didn’t call you yesterday – I went straight from the plane into rehearsal and it was an insane day. How’s everything at the resort?”

  “Pretty good,” Joy said.

  She was thinking about how Carmen’s hands felt when they had run over the same part of her neck, the electricity that her fingers had sent through Joy’s body. She wondered for a second about telling Danny about Carmen. Joy remembered the comment he’d made at the airport about finding a girlfriend, and she knew he’d be delighted at this development even if it was just a holiday fling. Hell, for all Joy knew it had been an isolated incident.

  She decided not to mention it, and then her mouth betrayed her and she said, “I met a girl today.”

  “Really?” Danny said, and he was almost more enthusiastic about this than he was about the band.

  Joy rolled her eyes and said, “Yes.”

  “How did that happen?”

  “I, uhh, ran into her on the slopes,” she said with a smirk that Danny could not see.

  “Oh yeah? Is she a skier or a snowboarder?” he asked.

  “Neither,” Joy said. “She was hiking and I literally ran into her with my snowboard, sprained her ankle.”

  “Oh wow,” Danny said, and Joy could tell he was laughing at her but trying to hide it. “And she still wanted to talk to you after that? Or is this, like, an admiring from afar kind of situation?”

  “No, we talked,” Joy said. She felt a blush rising into her cheeks as she thought again about the kiss, and that was a detail she really would keep to herself. But she felt compelled to tell Danny the most mortifying part about the whole experience. She said, “I helped her get down off the mountain, took her back to her cabin, and then her dad tipped me twenty bucks.”

  “Win-win,” Danny joked.

  “It was mortifying,” Joy said, and then the volume of whatever was going on in the background where Danny was intensified.

  “Hey, I gotta go,” he said. “Talk to you soon?”

  “Yeah, hopefully,” Joy said. “Have fun on tour.”

  “Thanks,” he sai
d, and then he added, “Have fun with your new friend. If it gets serious we may have to tell my mom that we’re finally splitting up.”

  Joy laughed and they hung up, and then she was all alone in the apartment again, the lights on the Christmas tree alternating faithfully from red to blue, yellow to green, and back again.

  December 19

  Twelve

  Carmen

  Carmen woke up early the next morning to pain throbbing in her ankle. She peeled back her heavy blanket and saw that her ankle had swollen to about twice its normal size in the night. She winced as she attempted to flex her foot and found it rather stiff. The ice pack she’d gone to bed with was soggy and warm, so she got up and half limped, half hopped her way into the kitchen for another one.

  Room service had brought about six of them to the cabin when Dad called yesterday – overkill for a single twisted ankle, Carmen thought – along with a bottle of Advil to help with the swelling and pain. She grabbed an ice pack and limped into the living room to apply it to her ankle.

  The sun was just beginning to rise over the mountain and Carmen lay down on the couch facing the picture window so she could watch the oranges and pinks of the changing sky. It looked like it had snowed again overnight, the ground outside the cabin coated in perfectly clean, unmarred snow. After a few minutes, the sky outside growing increasingly beautiful, she heard someone come into the room behind her, and then her mother’s voice.

  “Hey, honey,” she said. “I thought I heard someone get up.”

  “I needed a new ice pack,” Carmen said.

  Mom came over and sat at the other end of the couch, inspecting the swelling. “Poor girl, it looks worse than yesterday. You want some Advil?”

  “Yeah,” Carmen said. “Please.”

  She got up and Carmen kept watching the sunrise, her eyes feeling heavy with sleepiness still. Her dreams last night had been filled with Joy, and she’d spent a long time last night wondering how she could get another moment with her like they’d had on the lounge chair. Her lips had been so inviting, so thrilling. Another meet-cute collision on the slopes was out of the question, but maybe Carmen could steal a few minutes of Joy’s time if she found her at the lodge later today.

  Mom came back a few minutes later holding a plate with a cranberry scone, a glass of orange juice, and the Advil bottle. Carmen took it gratefully and Mom sat down on the ottoman across from her, looking out the window. “This place has some really spectacular views. Don’t tell your father, but it might be better than Cancun.”

  Carmen let out a mocking gasp, then laughed and said, “Yeah, there’s a lot of genuine beauty out here.”

  She was finishing her scone, the sky growing lighter outside, when Dad came into the living room, tying a plush, resort-issue robe tight around his waist. He went into the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee and called to Carmen and Mom, “You two are up early. Excited about the dog sleds?”

  “Oh, is that today?” Carmen asked. Joy had taken such a prominent place in her mind since yesterday that she’d completely forgotten about the items on Dad’s meticulously planned itinerary.

  “She can’t go with her ankle like this,” Mom said, and Carmen hated to see how Dad’s face fell instantly.

  “It’s that bad?”

  “It’s swollen,” Mom said. “Look at it.”

  Dad came over and Mom lifted the ice pack momentarily so he could see just how bad Carmen’s ankle was, and she said, “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

  “It’s not your fault, kid,” he said, standing with his hand over his chin for a minute, thinking. “Well, the dog sled excursions are booked solid so I can’t reschedule or we won’t get to go at all. You sure you can’t tough it out? You’re just going to be sitting in the sled the whole time.”

  “There’s a lot of walking to get there, honey,” Mom said. “And I can’t imagine the sled ride is particularly smooth – I just don’t want her to be in pain the whole time.”

  “Alright,” Dad said with a sigh. “I’ll go cancel it.”

  “No,” Carmen objected. “You should still go. I’ll be okay by myself one more day.”

  In the back of her mind, she thought a little bit selfishly that it would make for a good opportunity to try and reconnect with Joy. Maybe she could call down to the front desk and make up an excuse for her to come to the cabin for a little while.

  “I can stay here with you,” Mom offered, but Dad looked crestfallen. This was supposed to be his big, festive family vacation and Carmen had ruined his plans the first two days in a row. She felt guilty, and she wasn’t going to ruin her mother’s vacation as well.

  “I’ll be fine,” she said. “I just need to rest and ice my ankle – I don’t need you here for that.”

  She wasn’t sure which was worse – telling her dad that she wasn’t going to participate in another one of his itinerary items, or telling her mom that she didn’t need her. Carmen decided to shut her mouth before she dug herself in even deeper.

  “Okay,” Mom said. “Well, I’ll get you set up with whatever you need before we leave. Then when we get back, we’ll order lunch and watch a Christmas movie.”

  Carmen’s family headed out a couple hours later for their dog sledding excursion. For once, Marisol and Maria didn’t have their phones or tablets glued to their hands. Instead, they were talking excitedly about the dog kennel tour that would immediately precede the sledding – they were more eager to pet the dogs than be pulled through the snow by them. Dad tried one last time to get Carmen to come along, but Mom told him to stop pestering her, then brought the television remote and the mystery novel she’d been reading on the plane in case Carmen got bored.

  “Here,” Mom said, handing Carmen her phone as well. “If you need anything, call Dad.”

  Then they were gone and Carmen was alone in the cabin again.

  It was just a little after nine in the morning and Carmen thought it would seem too eager, or too forward, to call the front desk and try to ask for Joy so early in the day. The snow started falling again outside, light, delicate flakes floating peacefully down to the earth, and Carmen thought about her sisters, probably having the time of their lives with Husky puppies. She tried to pass the time with the television, but nothing really grabbed her attention.

  Ordinarily, she’d be using this time to catch up with Brigid, looking at all the vacation photos her other friends were posting online and crafting the perfect status message to go with her own Colorado mountain photographs. But Carmen’s phone was buried in a snowdrift somewhere on the slope called Outer Limits, and she couldn’t get her mind off Joy. She even tried the mystery novel Mom left her, but it wasn’t long before she started to feel stir-crazy alone in the cabin and confined to the couch.

  Fortunately when she got up to limp her way to the bathroom, she discovered that the Advil really had taken the swelling in her ankle down quite a bit. It was almost back to its normal size and not nearly so tender as it had been this morning. She could even put a little bit of weight on it, which helped as she made her way across the cabin.

  On her way back, Carmen caught sight of the broken binding of Joy’s snowboard sitting just inside the foyer. She must have forgotten it in her haste to leave after the rest of the Castillos came home, and Carmen had fibbed, telling her parents that it was a part of her ski which had broken in the accident. There was no real reason to keep her kiss with Joy a secret – her parents knew she’d been with girls before – but the way they’d come home and immediately assumed that Joy was there to be utilized as a resort employee had made it awkward to tell them the truth.

  Now, though, Carmen smiled as she saw the broken binding as an opportunity. She’d been wondering how to reach out to Joy, thinking it would be absolutely ridiculous to call down to the resort’s front desk and ask for her. All she’d come up with so far was something crazy like, Hey, I was thinking about that amazing kiss we shared yesterday, and I was wondering if you want to do it again? But the binding offered a perfectly
logical excuse to talk to her again.

  Carmen sat down in the lounge chair and picked up the resort phone sitting on the end table beside it. She dialed the front desk and asked the man who answered, “Is Joy available? Umm, I don’t know her last name.”

  “Turner,” he said. “I think she’s in the bar area – just give me a minute.”

  He put her on hold and butterflies started fluttering in Carmen’s stomach while she listened to a soft, slow guitar rendition of White Christmas. Then the music abruptly cut out and she heard Joy’s voice. “This is Joy, how can I help you?”

  “Umm,” Carmen said as she realized that she hadn’t given the front desk attendant her name or a reason for her call, and now for a moment she was frozen, the butterflies taking over her mind as well as her belly. Then she snapped out of it and said, “Hi, this is Carmen Castillo.”

  “Oh, hey,” Joy said, her voice immediately switching over from crisp and professional to friendly, and Carmen was relieved. In the back of her mind she’d been fearing all this time that their kiss had meant more to her than it did to Joy, and that it might not be something she cared to think twice about. She asked, “How’s your ankle today?”

  “A lot better, actually,” Carmen said. “It hurt like hell this morning, but some Advil and an ice pack took the swelling down. I did have to skip this morning’s dog sledding excursion, though.”

  “Oh no, are you all alone again?” Joy asked.

  “I am,” Carmen said. “Just til lunchtime.”

  “You’re having a rough vacation,” Joy said, sympathy dripping in her voice.

  “I wouldn’t say that. Some parts have been pretty nice,” Carmen was quick to interject. Then she remembered the reason for her call, or at least the pretense. “Oh, I’ve got your broken snowboard binding. You left it in my cabin.”