Chapter One
BRI
When I stop walking and tilt my head, I look up at the gray sky and see the first snowflake. I’ve been living in the little town of Bear Mountain for over a month, and this is the first time I’ve gotten to see it actually snow. Grams told me it snowed all the time, but since I moved here, I’ve yet to see that. Sure, there’s snow everywhere, but the few snowstorms that came through were during the night, and I missed them.
One giant flake smacks me in the cheek, and I reach up to touch where it landed. When I wipe away the drop of water, I realize I’m smiling. It’s not often I smile anymore, so it surprises me. It’s hard to smile when your heart is broken. I run my finger against the ring I’ve been wearing since the funeral home gave it to me three months ago. It’s my mom’s wedding ring, and it never left her hand. Dad wouldn’t allow it, although I’m not sure that she ever wanted to take it off.
It’s crazy how fast life can change. One second you think everything is perfect, and the next it’s all ripped away from you. My parents are gone. The people who loved me most in the world have left me alone.
It’s why I’m here in the little town of Bear Mountain and living with my grandparents. California isn’t my home anymore. It’s too sunny and bright, and everyone is always happy. They go about their lives like nothing happened, and I know to them nothing did, but not for me. An anger built inside of me, and it was a foreign feeling. My mom always said I was the happiest baby she’d ever seen and that nothing ever upset me. She also said that I was too forgiving at times. I suppose it’s easy to be happy when you think you have the perfect cookie-cutter family with your life all mapped out until all of it slipped through my fingers. College and all my plans no longer mattered to me. Nothing did anymore.
When Grams and Grandpa showed up at my door a month ago telling me I was going home with them, it was the first time I’d actually wanted to do something besides hide away in the little studio apartment I rented after the house sold.
It had actually already been on the market. My parents wanted to downsize some with me going off to college. It made it a bit easier to walk away because it was too hard being there alone. I was drowning in memories.
My father grew up in Bear Mountain, but we never visited because of the cold. My mom had terrible arthritis, and it would flare up when they’d make the trip out, so my grandparents always came to visit us. They did it so often that Dad built an apartment over the detached garage before I was even born.
I shake off the memories and make my way back from Molly’s Diner. I went down to grab Grams and me a hot chocolate. It’s my new addiction, and I can’t get Molly to give me the recipe. She always claims she can’t give it to me because she won't get to see my beautiful face twice a day if she did.
Everyone in this town is so sweet. I wasn’t sure how I’d take to it here, but I’m actually enjoying it. There’s a calm here that settles me, and I haven’t had a single panic attack since I arrived. I had them when I was little, but I thought I’d grown out of them. Well, until life went to hell.
“It’s snowing,” Grams says from behind the checkout counter the second I step into the little general store she and Grandpa own.
The small store is quaint, fitting in perfectly on the main street of the small mountain town. Everything about this town looks plucked right out of a movie or a magazine and dropped down in the middle of the mountains. I think the only reason Dad never came back is because of Mom. He’d met her on a trip, and that was that.
Mom always called him her mountain man and told me when I grew up if I ever wanted to get married, I needed to find myself one. There weren't too many of those floating around back in California, and dating has never been high on my priority list. The boys in high school never drew my attention. My parents' love for each other really gave me a high standard for what I wanted. My grandparents too.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Let’s see if you’re saying that after we’re locked in the house for a few days. We likely won’t be open tomorrow.”
“We’ll close the shop?” I ask, handing her the hot chocolate from the diner.