A Magical Christmas

CHAPTER TEN

“WATCH IT AGAIN.” Curled up on the sofa next to Jess, Brenna pressed the remote. “Look at the timing of the pole plant. Do you see?” She played it again and then again, talking Jess through it, showing her how small changes could make a big difference to her technique and speed.

“Play one of Dad’s winning downhill runs.”

Brenna tried to think of an excuse. The last thing she wanted to do was watch Tyler in slow motion, but she couldn’t think of a reason that wouldn’t draw attention so she dutifully stood up. “Do you know where he keeps those DVDs?”

“They’re stuffed into the back of the cupboard on your right.”

Brenna tugged open the cupboard.

Five crystal globes sat on a shelf crammed between books, a few games and various DVDs. She picked one of them up reverentially. “This is where he keeps them?” It was obvious they’d been pushed there, rather than displayed, and yet they represented excellence in his sport.

“I warned you he was messed up about the whole thing. Most people would keep a World Cup trophy out where everyone can see it, not Dad. He hides them away. I guess he doesn’t want to look at them. Never talks about it, either, even though it gives him serious bragging rights.”

Brenna smoothed her hand over the surface of the coveted globe. Winning one would be a dream for most skiers. Tyler had five, two for winning the overall World Cup title, three of them for individual disciplines, in his case, the downhill. “For me, this means more than the Olympics. To win this you have to ski at a high standard consistently and across disciplines.”

“Makes it all the more sad that he hides them away in the dark.”

Brenna reached up and put one of the trophies on the shelf on display. “It looks nice here.”

Jess shrank. “Oh, no—you can’t do that.”

“I’m doing it.”

“Then you are the one taking responsibility for it, not me.”

“I’ll take responsibility. We’ll start with one and see how it goes.”

“Great idea. If you’re still alive in the morning, you can put the second one out.”

“He might not even notice. And here’s the DVD you wanted to see.” She pushed it into the slot and curled up on the sofa again, resigned to watching Tyler ski.

He gave an electrifying performance, hurtling full-tilt down the mountain, attacking the slope as if he was skiing for his life. It was one of the many reasons he drew crowds, thrilled by the excitement of watching him. He was a supreme athlete, breathtakingly gifted, which made the accident that had ended his career all the more brutal.

The fact that those five crystal globes were jammed into a cupboard behind a load of detritus confirmed exactly how much he was struggling with the loss.

This was the second winter he’d missed, but last year the O’Neil family had been so focused on saving Snow Crystal and learning how to move on after Michael’s death, that there had been no time to dwell on Tyler’s situation. And Tyler had found himself with a teenage daughter living with him, a change in his circumstances that must have had more impact than the possibility of losing the family home and business. This year was different. Snow Crystal was finally beginning to show signs of sustained recovery. Jess and Tyler were used to living together. He had more time to think about what he’d lost.

Should she talk to him? Give him a chance to confide in her?

Their relationship had changed, and she wasn’t sure of the rules anymore.

She pressed the pause button. “Look at that. Right there. Everything is perfect. The angle of his skis, the weight—” She gave Jess something to focus on, rewound and played it again while she ran through the options in her head.

She could talk to him, but things had felt awkward between them since the day she’d moved into Lake House. Living under the same roof as him had somehow intensified everything, as if someone had shone a spotlight on her feelings.

And she knew he was finding it awkward, too.

He’d started avoiding her.

“You’ve had it on pause for about five minutes.” Jess took the remote from her hand. “What are you looking at?”

Him. She was looking at him. At the determination in that jaw. At the ski suit molded to every contour of his hard, powerful body.

“Look at his position,” she croaked, “look at the balance, look at the line he took and how close he is to the gate.” Look at those shoulders, those thighs, the look of fierce concentration on that insanely handsome face.

And look at me make a complete fool of myself.

“I’ll never be that good.” Jess stared gloomily at the screen, and Brenna took the remote back from her.

“You could be. You have talent. All you need is practice.”

“How can I practice when I’m stuck in miserable boring school all day?” There was despair in her voice, and Brenna remembered feeling the same way when she was Jess’s age.

“Do you hate it?”

Jess slumped and nibbled the edge of a nail. “Every minute.”

Brenna thought about the exchange earlier. The filthy shoes. The torn coat. “The lessons or the kids?”

“The lessons.” Jess drew her knees up under her chin and stared at the image of her father frozen on the screen. “And the kids. They’re totally lame.”

Brenna sat still. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Jess gave a careless shrug that was supposed to indicate indifference but revealed how bad she was feeling. “Nothing to talk about. All the girls care about is their stupid hair and stupid boys. We have nothing in common.”

“Are they giving you a hard time?”

“No more than usual.”

Thinking about what usual had been for her, Brenna’s insides knotted. “When did it start?”

Jess studied her nails. “Pretty much my first day at that school. It’s never good being the new girl in town.”

“But you’re joining in. You were picked for the ski team!” The moment she said it, she wondered how she could have been so blind and stupid. “Oh.”

Jess gave a short laugh. “Yeah, that’s right. I’ve heard it all. How I was only picked because of my dad, how I’m crap, how I have no talent.”

Brenna’s stomach lurched. “Jess—”

“It’s partly my fault because when I started at the school, I talked about him to anyone who would listen. I guess they wanted to make sure I knew my place—” She attacked another nail even though there wasn’t much of anything left to attack. “Do you think that’s why I got on the ski team? Because of Dad? Be honest.”

“No. You’re a gifted skier, Jess. You need more time on the mountain, that’s true, but you have something that most people will never have even if they spend every minute of their lives practicing.”

“So I’ll keep telling myself they’re wrong.”

“Is anyone friendly?”

“A couple of the girls used to talk to me at the beginning, but they’re worried about being in the firing line so now they ignore me, too. It’s fine,” she said a little too quickly, “I really don’t care.”

It was achingly familiar. “Is it mostly one person or a group?” Talking about it, remembering her own experience, made her feel sick. “Is there a ringleader?”

“Let’s watch more skiing.” Jess jumped to her feet and rummaged through Tyler’s collection for another DVD. “Let’s watch the one where he broke that bone in his foot. I want to know how he managed to get up and ski.”

“He didn’t know he’d broken anything. It was much later that they found a chip in the bone.” Brenna sat, watching, wondering how to deal with this situation.

She could have left it. She could have moved on and not touched a subject that made her insides pitch. But she knew that wasn’t going to help Jess. “Jess, honey, we can do something about this.” She felt as if she were fifteen again. “You don’t have to put up with it.”

Jess stared at the screen. “I mean, I know it wasn’t like a major accident or anything, not like his big one, but it still looked pretty bad. Most people wouldn’t have skied down.”

“Do your teachers know? Does anyone know?”

“No. And I don’t want to tell them, all right?” Jess turned, her eyes fierce. “Otherwise, it will make it a hundred times worse. You have no idea. Parents think they can walk into school, demand it’s fixed, and it will all be fine but it doesn’t work that way.”

“I know.” Brenna’s mouth was so dry she could hardly speak. “I know it doesn’t work that way.”

“Promise me you won’t tell Dad.”

“He knows something isn’t right. You should talk to him about it. He could help.”

“I don’t need help. When he has a problem, he gets on with it. He doesn’t talk about it all the time.” She tucked her legs under her and stared at the image on the screen. “I’ll handle it. I need to toughen up.”

“No, you don’t. It isn’t about you. It’s about them. Don’t let them make you feel bad about yourself. That’s what I did.” It was painful to remember it, and Jess turned and looked at her.

“So what did you do?”

“Nothing,” Brenna said simply. “I had no confidence. I let them strip that away from me, and I wish I hadn’t.”

Jess stared at her in disbelief. “You’re like, so confident. I mean, you run this whole place, and you’re the only person I know who can keep up with my dad on skis. You could have made the U.S. team.”

“I’m confident on the mountain. About the stuff I know. Not about other things. I was hopeless with big groups of kids, I wasn’t interested in any of the things the other girls were interested in. Hair, nails, dressing up, boys—” She blushed, because of course she had been interested in one boy in particular.

“That’s how I feel.”

“If you don’t want to do anything different, I understand, because I felt that way. But maybe we could try and work this out together.” She sat for a moment, remembering how lonely she’d felt when she was in school. “And you can talk to me. Sometimes it helps to talk.”

Jess fiddled with her sock. “You won’t tell my dad?”

“Not if you don’t want me to. But you should think about telling him yourself. He really cares about you.”

“Yeah, I know.” Her cheeks were pink. “But you know Dad. I’m worried he’d care a little bit too much. He’d go stomping in there.”

Brenna thought about the times he’d threatened to do exactly that when she was at school and knew that holding him back wouldn’t be easy. “Maybe we can think of small things you could do. Like looking more confident or pretending you don’t care.”

“It wouldn’t work.”

“Maybe not, but it might be worth trying.”

“Did you?”

“No. I tried to ignore it and struggled through each day, but I wish I hadn’t. I wish I’d told them I deserved respect. That everyone deserves respect.”

Jess curled her legs under her. “Did you have any friends?”

“Your dad.” Brenna gave a half smile. “The moment I got out of school, I used to come up here and hang out with the O’Neils.”

“Who was the person who was mean to you? Does she still live around here?”

Brenna stared at her, heart thudding. It was the one question she knew she could never answer. “No, she doesn’t. I think we should focus on you—”

The sound of the front door opening made them both jump and the next minute Ash bounded into the room, trailing snow across the floor.

Relieved at the interruption, Brenna grabbed his collar and coaxed him to sit.

Tyler strode into the room, glowering like a caged beast. “He pulled away from me twice in the forest. He is out of control.”

Jess was on her knees on the floor, arms around Ash as she cuddled him and kissed him. “You’re a bad, bad boy. No one understands you.”

“I understand him perfectly.” Tyler shrugged out of his coat. “He’s a thug.”

“He’s adorable.”

“If that’s your idea of adorable, I’m not looking forward to the day you start dating.” He caught sight of the crystal globe on the shelf. “What is that doing there?”

Jess gave Brenna a look that shrieked I told you so and started a countdown. “Five, four, three, two, one—”

“I put it there.” Brenna tried to head off the explosion. “You should be really proud of it. I can’t bear that you keep them hidden away.”

He didn’t explode. Instead he stood still. His face could have been carved from stone, and she felt a sudden pang of guilt that she’d caused him more pain.

She waited for him to shout at her but instead he turned and strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Jess sighed. “No wonder he’s single.”

IT FELT AS IF his whole life was unraveling. Things he’d had under control suddenly felt out of control. Emotions he tried to ignore were battering him from all sides.

Stepping out of the shower, he reached for a towel and then heard a tap on his bedroom door.

Knotting the towel around his waist, he strolled across the room and opened the door.

Brenna was standing there, and he saw guilt in her eyes in the brief moment before she looked away from his bare chest. “I didn’t mean to make you mad. I’m sorry.” She tripped over her words. “Actually, I’m not sorry. You shouldn’t hide those awards, Tyler. They’re part of you. They represent a huge achievement. You won them.”

He wondered if she wore mascara or if her eyelashes were that thick and lush naturally. “I’m pleased you’re speaking your mind, but why are you speaking it to the wall? We used to be able to look each other in the eyes.”

“You’re not wearing anything.”

“I’m wearing a towel. If you’re not ready to look at me when I’m wearing a towel, you are definitely not ready to have sex with Josh.”

Her jaw dropped. “What does Josh have to do with this?”

Everything. Thinking of her with Josh was the reason he wasn’t sleeping. “All I’m saying is that if you can’t look a guy in the eyes when he’s wearing a towel, you’re not ready to have a night of emotionless sex.”

“It won’t be emotionless. I like Josh.”

Tyler resisted the urge to punch a hole through the wall. “He is not the right guy for you.”

“How do you know? Unlike you, I don’t have a type.”

“I don’t have a type, either.”

“Yes, you do. Why are we talking about this? I came up here to talk about the awards. You should put those crystal globes on display, Tyler. You won them!”

“I know I won them. I don’t need to look at the stupid things every day to know I won them.”

“But you’re making it hard for Jess to learn to talk about things that hurt, because you don’t do it yourself. You’re teaching her to keep things bottled up, and that’s not good.”

Knocked off balance, Tyler stared at her. “Am I missing something here? What does me keeping those awards hidden away have to do with Jess?” He leaned against the door frame and saw her take a step backward. He remembered a time when they’d been comfortable with each other, but that time was long gone. It was like trying to dance when he didn’t know the steps. “Brenna?”

“You need to encourage her to talk to you.”

“Generally or about something specific? A few clues would help.”

“There are plenty of clues, Tyler.” She was still staring at the wall, and he felt a rush of frustration.

“Damn it, Bren, would you look at me when we’re talking?”

“All I’m saying is that you need to foster an atmosphere of open communication, that’s all.”

Tyler gave a disbelieving laugh. “That sounds like something straight out of a self-help manual. And it loses impact coming from someone currently staring at the wall.”

Color streaked down her cheeks. “I’m trying to help.” She snapped the words, and he looked at her mouth, wondering how it had suddenly got so hard to be around her and not touch her.

“Open communication. I guess I can give that a try. How about we have a little open communication here, too, and you tell me the real reason you’re dating Josh.”

“Are you going to stop hiding those balls?”

Tyler tried not to smile and failed. “Anyone else would have thought twice before phrasing a question that particular way, but not you. This is why you’re not ready for emotionless sex.”

“Oh, stop it! For five minutes of your life you could stop thinking about sex.” She sent him a furious look. “And put some clothes on! There’s three feet of snow outside. You shouldn’t be walking around naked.”

He opened his mouth to point out that so far the snow hadn’t entered his bedroom, but she’d walked off.

THE EVENING’S CONVERSATION stayed with him and the next morning, he decided to drop Jess at school himself instead of letting her take the bus.

She stared moodily ahead, not talking to him.

About at his limit with moods and unwilling to play twenty questions, Tyler took the direct approach. “What’s up with you?”

“You were mean to Brenna!”

Genuinely astonished, Tyler glanced at her. “Mean? I’m never mean to Brenna.”

“You were horrid. She put the crystal globe out on the shelf because she was so proud of you, and you gave her one of your cold looks.”

Tyler, who hadn’t known he had a “cold look” felt a flash of guilt. Was that why she’d been so angry with him? Had he hurt her feelings? “I didn’t want it on the shelf.”

“So wait until she’s gone to bed and put it back in the cupboard again. Don’t make her feel bad!”

Tyler opened his mouth to point out that looking at the globe made him feel bad and then closed it again. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll apologize.”

“I don’t want you to apologize to make me feel better, Dad! You need to apologize because you’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry I upset Brenna. I’m not sorry I put that thing back in the cupboard.”

“You won that thing! You beat everyone else down the mountain. Doesn’t it make you proud? You should be boasting about it everywhere to anyone who will listen.”

Tyler pulled up near the school. “I don’t care what other people think.”

“Why? I don’t get it.” Jess looked at him, puzzled and out of her depth.

“That wasn’t why I raced. I know when I won and when I screwed up. I don’t need globes or medals to remind me. I wanted to be fastest down that mountain. That was all.”

The only sound in the car was his breathing.

“And you were. It’s hard, isn’t it?” Her voice was a whisper. “You always refuse to talk about it, but you hate that you can’t race anymore.”

Tyler opened his mouth to make light of it and then remembered what Brenna had said about open communication. “Yeah, I hate it.” The words were dragged from him. “Especially on a day like today when it’s snowing. It gnaws at my insides.”

“I wish it hadn’t happened.”

He stared at the road, surprised to discover that his throat felt scratchy. “Yeah, me, too, but there’s no point wishing something hadn’t happened if it already has. Waste of energy.”

“That sounds almost like grown-up advice, Dad.”

“Does this mean I’m getting good at this parenting thing?”

“You don’t totally suck at it.”

“Thanks. Feedback is important for improved performance.” He glanced at her and found her looking at him.

“You’ve never talked about it before.”

“Just to you, honey. Let’s keep it between ourselves.”

“Oh. S-sure, Dad.” She was stammering, her cheeks pink with pride. “I want you to know you can talk to me anytime.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” He wondered what it was about kids that turned a man from tough to tender in a single glance. “And you can talk to me, too.”

Jess hunted for a grown-up response. “Life totally sucks sometimes.”

Was that a reference to her life or his? Because he wasn’t sure, he kept his response neutral. “It totally does. Things happen. Life happens. If you can’t change it, you have to get on with it, but if there’s something that can make it easier to handle, then you do it. Hey, listen to me.” He winked at her. “That was more grown-up advice. I’m getting good at this. I’m pulling straight As in parenting.”

“And not looking at the trophies makes it easier for you?”

“Some.”

Her eyes burned with love. “I’m going to lock them away where no one can ever find them. I’m going to put your gold medal in the trash.”

The passion in her was disturbingly familiar. “No need to go that far.”

“I’ve been wearing it.” Her eyes were huge with guilt. “I made you feel worse.”

“Having you around only ever makes me feel better. And you know what? I think you could have a medal of your own to hang round your neck someday.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not joking. You’ve got something, Jess. We’re going to work on that something together.” He reached out to hug her and then remembered that probably wasn’t cool and pulled back. “Sorry. Forgot we were outside the school. No hugging allowed.”

“I don’t care what any of them say. They’re jealous because you’re my dad.” The way she said it confirmed his suspicion she was having trouble at school.

He struggled to access calm. “Do people give you a hard time over it?”

She opened her mouth to dismiss it and then changed her mind. “Sometimes. Kids are stupid, that’s all. They’d all love to ski with you every day.”

An ugly suspicion formed in his mind. “Jess, you came home in a mess yesterday—”

“I slipped on the ice. I have to go. Bye, Dad.” She grabbed her bag, but he stopped her.

“Wait. I just talked to you. You should talk to me.”

“I do.”

But it was obvious to him she was holding something back. “Do you want to invite someone back this weekend? Sleepover? Because you can.”

“No, thanks. I’m going to be skiing the whole time, and we still need to buy a tree. There’s loads to do for Christmas. Talk about it later, Dad.” She was out of the car before he could stop her, walking fast through the gates of the school, head down, not talking to anyone.

Tyler swore under his breath and fought the temptation to march in after her and demand to know what was going on. Because something was going on, he was sure of it.

He sat back in his seat, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

Was that why Brenna had been encouraging him to talk to her?

Did she know something she wasn’t telling him?

Making a mental note to ask her, he drove back to Snow Crystal. A morning spent with a group of skiers with more money than skill did nothing to improve his mood, and by the time he collected Jess from school, his temper was wearing thin. It was snowing steadily, and there were no signs of it stopping. He wondered if Brenna and Josh might decide to postpone their date or even cancel altogether.

Jess walked out of school the way she’d walked into it, head down, avoiding eye contact, striding toward the bus. She would have walked straight past his car if he hadn’t opened the window and called to her.

“Dad!” Startled, she glanced around her. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to go to the store for something,” he lied, “so I thought I might as well pick you up.”

He saw a group of mothers looking in his direction and realized he’d been blind to how having him as a father might have affected Jess. Did all these people spend their time looking him up on the internet? Were they reading the lies or, worse, feeding those lies to Jess?

She slid into the seat next to him and raked her hair away from her face.

“So how was today?” He’d read that parents weren’t supposed to subject kids to a barrage of questions, and he wondered how that was supposed to work. He wanted to pin her to the seat until she’d told him what was bothering her.

“Fine.”

Tyler ground his teeth. “For the record, fine isn’t an answer.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I’ve been thinking about Christmas. If Brenna’s going to be living with us, we should buy her a present. A big one. It needs to be a proper Christmas. She can’t be the only one without a pile of presents under the tree and a stocking at the end of her bed.”

Tyler, who didn’t want to think about stockings or beds in relation to Brenna and was still trying to work out how to get something other than fine out of his daughter, nodded. “Sure. Whatever. No, wait a minute.” He realized he hadn’t done anything about Christmas gifts. “Who says there is going to be a pile of presents for you? Have you sent a letter to Santa?”