She nodded. “I hear you. I’ll consider it.”
“And while you do that, I have a surprise for you. Now, go put on your warmest clothes.”
“You were serious about that?” When he nodded, she asked, “What do you have in mind?”
“You’ll find out as soon as you change. Hurry.”
* * *
Sled riding.
Serena felt like a kid again. There was a hill beside the cabin that ended in a small field. They’d been outside for an hour. She hadn’t laughed this much in a very long time, if ever. Even Gizmo was having fun riding down the hill. He took turns riding on her lap and then on Jackson’s.
At first, she wasn’t sure about taking Gizmo on a sled. But the hill wasn’t too steep. And her pup seemed perfectly fine with it. Jackson didn’t go down the hill as much as her because walking up the incline with the boot on his ankle was a hard and slow process for him. At least he’d thought ahead and had wrapped a bag around his leg to keep it dry.
Serena felt bad that he couldn’t enjoy sledding as much as her, but he insisted she keep going and Gizmo had barked his agreement. Jackson had even brought along a thermos of his amazing hot chocolate. And as the sun set, she couldn’t think of anyplace she’d rather be.
After they took a seat on an old log, she turned to him. “Thank you for this. Would you believe I’ve never been sledding before?”
“Never?”
She shook her head.
“I thought you said you went to Tahoe.”
“Later. As an adult. By then I spent most of my time in the lodge.” She took a sip of hot cocoa. “When I was a kid, I didn’t know what snow was. My father hated it. And my mother, well, she had her own life.”
“I’m sorry. I grew up in New York, so we had snow often.”
“Did your parents take you sledding?”
He shook his head. “My father left when I was seven. And my mother was always working. When she wasn’t working, she was blaming me for my father leaving.”
“That’s awful. It must have been so hard on you. I’m so sorry.”
He stared off into the distance. He didn’t say anything for the longest time. She didn’t push him. Maybe it was time that she opened up more about herself.
She drew in a deep breath to settle her nerves. “I know what it’s like to have a rough childhood. Though most people wouldn’t guess it because my family had money and fame. A lot of people think that money equates to happiness. I can testify that it doesn’t. Sometimes I think the more money you have, the unhappier you are.”
She chanced a glance as Jackson to see if he was listening.
Jackson cleared his throat. “My father was a doctor. But when he split, he was terrible at paying my mother what he owed her. She had to fight and beg for every check. And when they did arrive, they were always months late.”
“Do you still speak to your parents?”
He shook his head. “I haven’t seen my father since I was nine or ten. He remarried and that was that. As for my mother, she never did stop blaming me for her marriage breaking up. I send her a check once a month to make sure she’s taken care of.”
“You send her money, but you don’t visit?”
“It’s better that way.”
“Where does your mother live now?”
“In New York.”
“So you live close to each other, but you never see each other?”
Jackson turned to her. “Why are you making it out like it’s all my fault? My mother could just as easily track me down. My address is on every check I send—checks that she promptly cashes.”