Brenna pushed ski socks into a drawer. Talking about Janet Carpenter was one way of turning a bright day dark. “Do you speak to your mom often?”
“Every few weeks. It’s a pretty awkward conversation.” Jess wrapped her arms around her legs. “She isn’t interested in hearing about my skiing, and she hates everything to do with Snow Crystal so I can’t talk about that. If I mention Dad she almost hangs up, so I spend the whole time trying to find things to say that don’t involve him or skiing, which is pretty tough when you live in a place like this.” She scraped her hair back from her face in a universally teenage gesture. “I guess I’m a major disappointment. I’ve never been what she wants.”
> “I’m sure that’s not true.” Brenna’s mouth was dry. She didn’t want to talk about this. She couldn’t. It made her heart race and her stomach churn. She wanted desperately to change the subject, but that wasn’t fair to Jess.
“According to my mom, I’m too much like Dad. You don’t know her, but—” Jess frowned “—do you know her? It isn’t like Snow Crystal is that big a place, and you must have been at school at the same time.”
Brenna pulled a couple of T-shirts from her suitcase. “I knew her a little.”
“I wonder why she’s never mentioned you? She was older, so I guess your name never came up.”
Her hands were shaking. “That’s probably it.”
“You’re going to love this room. After twelve years living in Chicago, it’s like heaven to look out on the forest.” Jess picked at a thread in her sock. “Sometimes I sleep with the window open so that I can breathe the air. At school I try and sit by the window, too.”
Brenna slid the T-shirts into a drawer. “Are things any better?”
“At school? No. It’s like being in a cage. Was that how you felt?”
“Some of the time.” All of the time. Brenna opened another drawer. “How are the other kids?”
“Annoying, mostly.” Jess avoided her gaze. “Are you nearly done? Because we should go help Dad cook. He can make a real mess if he’s left on his own. Even the dogs won’t touch his food.”
“One more minute.” Brenna pulled out the last of her clothes and thought back to a conversation she’d had a few weeks earlier. She’d picked Jess up from school, and the teenager had been visibly upset. On the drive home she’d been unusually silent. It was that miserable silence that had induced Brenna to tell her a little of her own experiences at school in the hope of encouraging Jess to open up.
It hadn’t worked, but the way she’d listened and the questions she’d asked had convinced Brenna that something similar might be happening to Jess. If that was true then she wanted to help.
“Now I’m staying here for a while we should be able to ski together a bit more often, if you’d like to.”
“I’d love that! Thanks. I want to win everything this season. I want to make Dad proud.”
“He’s already proud, Jess. He loves you.”
“I know he loves me, but you know Dad. With him you either win or you lose.”
“There were plenty of times when he lost as well as won. It isn’t all about winning.”
“He says that’s the whole point. No one competes to come second. Can we watch skiing together tonight? I want to watch some of the World Cup runs and analyze technique.”
“You should ask your dad to do that with you. He’s good at seeing what people are doing wrong.”
“He won’t.” Jess’s voice was flat. “He never watches skiing.”
“Well, he’s busy and—”
“It’s not because he’s busy. He watches football, baseball, basketball, ice hockey—any sport that happens to be on TV. But not skiing.”
Brenna paused, a sweater in her hand. “Never?”
“Never.” Jess gave an awkward shrug. “I guess it’s hard for him. I shouldn’t have told you. He probably doesn’t want either of us to know.”
“I— You were right to tell me.” Aching for him, Brenna stuffed the sweater in the drawer and pushed it closed. “Does he ever give you a reason?”
“Yes, but after a year of excuses you realize there has to be something else going on. I want to ask him, but I don’t want to make it worse and anyway, I’m just a kid. I guess he wouldn’t want to talk to me.”
“You’re a great kid. He loves you,” Brenna said softly, “but he’s not the type of guy who finds it easy to talk about the way he feels.”
“I know. Macho man and all that.”