Give Me a Break (From the Files of Madison Finn, 18) (6 page)

The manager stuck to his word. Within a half hour, the lodge was in perfect shape again, except for the chill resulting from the window’s having been open most of the night. Shortly after the manager left, a Treetops chef (French, of course) personally delivered a cart with breakfast for all of them. Madison and Aimee oohed and aahed as they picked out their favorite treats.

“This place is like something out of the movies,” Aimee said, pouring homemade granola into a bowl of berry yogurt. “My mom and dad would even eat here—and you know how picky they are.”

Madison bit into a strawberry and then a warm chocolate croissant. “Dad, did I say thank you for taking us here?” she asked. “Thank you times a zillion.”

“No thanks necessary, Maddie,” Dad said. “Now that our chalet snowstorm has been cleared away, let’s eat, get ready, and get over to Big Mountain for some real powder. I’m dying to hit those trails.”

The four sat down to eat the rest of their breakfast. While Stephanie read the newspaper, Dad buttered his toast and peppered his eggs.

Everything was going great until Dad picked up a salt shaker and dumped the contents onto his breakfast plate. The pile of salt looked like a miniversion of the snowdrift that had just been cleared away in their living room.

“Wait! Spilled salt!” Madison cried. She leaned down to grab a pinch and threw it over her shoulder.

“Rwowwoowowowowowow!” Phin yelped.

“What are you doing, Madison?” Dad asked.

“Spilled salt is bad luck, Dad!” Madison exclaimed.

“Blinding your dog is pretty bad, too,” Aimee said sarcastically.

Madison shot Aimee a look. She wanted to say something clever, but she didn’t. Dad was getting impatient. He clapped his hands together and pushed the girls into the other room.

“Enough chaos!” Dad declared. “Let’s get ready.”

“Actually, Jeff, I think the girls should probably call home, right?” Stephanie suggested. “Aimee, why don’t you check in with your mom? You, too, Maddie.”

Aimee used Stephanie’s cell phone first. Madison called home, too, but her mom was out. Then she dragged herself into the other room, having no idea what she would wear.

Aimee unzipped her suitcase and took out a perfectly matched outfit—a pair of purple ski pants and an orange fleece pullover. Underneath, she would wear a little shirt with flowers embroidered across the neckline.

“You have ski pants?” Madison asked. “But you hardly ever go skiing.”

Aimee nodded. “I know, but these were on sale last winter.”

Madison opened her suitcase and took a deep breath. First, she pulled out a pair of jeans, but Aimee tut-tutted her (“They’re not waterproof, Maddie. You’ll be soaked!”) and made Madison put the jeans back into her bag.

“Jeans are for après-ski,” Aimee said, trying to sound important and oh-so-French.

So Madison pulled out her lone pair of red snow pants. She hardly ever wore them, and they weren’t exactly super fashionable, but they were warm and waterproof, and that was the main thing. Then, she pulled on a white turtleneck and a blue cardigan sweater.

“Maddie,” Aimee said when she saw the outfit. “What is that? You’ll look like the American flag.”

“I will?” said Madison dumbly.

“Let me help you choose your outfit,” Aimee insisted.

Madison and Aimee picked through both of their suitcases until they came up with a combination of clothes that worked. Aimee matched Madison’s red pants with her own black, long-sleeved T-shirt and turtleneck sweater. She also lent Madison a fun pink knitted hat. Aimee wore a skullcap decorated with flowers. After dressing, they rushed to meet Dad and Stephanie and get shuttle service to Big Mountain. The family dropped Phin off at the pet-sitting area in the main lodge; there he was joined by a fat Maltese, a yipping Yorkshire terrier, and a nervous-looking cat named Trix.

After the snowstorm the night before, the day was crisp and bright. The air smelled like wood smoke and pine trees. The foursome piled into the shuttle bus along with another family. One of the boys was kind of cute, Madison noticed. Aimee apparently thought so, too. She flirted with him all the way to the mountain.

They arrived and disembarked in front of the Big Mountain chalet. Inside the doors was the biggest fireplace Madison or Aimee had ever seen. People rushed around with hot drinks, ice skates, and skis. The line for lift tickets for one side of the mountain was halfway out the door.

Stephanie grabbed Madison by the shoulders and whispered in her ear. “I’m so glad we’re here in one piece. I wasn’t sure we’d make it.”

Madison chuckled. “Me, neither.”

Aimee seemed in awe of the outfits people were wearing. “Maddie, you were so right,” she said. “This is a major fashion scene. I am so glad we rethought your outfit.”

Madison nodded. “Me, too,” she said. But, what Madison was really thinking was, What am I doing here?

Dad learned where they could rent skis, ski boots, and other equipment. They headed for another building attached to the chalet. The line there was even longer than the one for lift tickets. Over the loudspeakers, announcements were being made about ski lessons and other events at the mountain.

Madison and Aimee wandered over to a giant map on one side of the room. It showed all of the ski trails at Big Mountain. The highest elevation was over 4,600 feet. It was a peak called Top Dog.

“That’s high, isn’t it?” Madison said as she looked up at the mountain through giant glass windows on one side of the room. “I can’t really see the top. Is it foggy, or are those clouds?”

Aimee was too busy scoping out the other people in the room to reply to Madison’s question. She grabbed Madison by the shoulders and whispered in her ear.

“Don’t look now, but I think Hart is here,” she said.

Madison felt her stomach flip-flop. Her knees wobbled. “Where?” she squeaked. “Hart’s here?”

“Yeah, look over there…” Aimee said as she pointed across the room.

Madison looked and saw an older, bald man wearing rainbow-colored suspenders. He struggled with the knotted laces on his ice skates. His face was flushed red from trying to pull off the skates.

“That’s Hart in fifty years!” Aimee said.

“Very funny, Aim,” Madison said, her lip curling in a sneer. “I thought you meant—oh, never mind what I thought.”

Aimee smiled. “Maddie, I was only joking.”

Madison was a little mad about being duped, but she faked a laugh. “Ha-ha.”

Dad led the girls over to the information desk to sign up for their ski lessons. A big sign over the desk read:
PEEWEESKI
.

Madison and Aimee looked at each other and groaned. Then they saw the second sign, which read:
TEENSKI
. Under it, an instructor wearing huge sunglasses, a bronzy tan, and a plum-colored parka was filling out papers. He waved as people passed.

“Hello,” Aimee said, walking right over to the man.

He looked up. “Yes? May I help you?” he said. His eyes were like melted caramels. He had a thick accent. Was it Spanish?

“We’re here for lessons,” Aimee said.

The bronze-skinned man smiled wide. “Are you?” he said. “Well, I’m the instructor.”

Madison grabbed the table to steady herself. “Can we sign up for you?”

Aimee giggled. “She means, can we register for you
and
your lessons?”

“Certainly,” the man said. “I’m Carlos. Let me get Jennifer. She will help get you signed up.”

Madison had to grab Aimee’s wrist to keep from toppling over onto one side. Carlos was a major babe. He left them both tongue-tied.

“I am heading back to the slopes, but I see you later, yes?” Carlos said.

Neither Aimee nor Madison could stop grinning.

“Yes,” they said at exactly the same time, staring as Carlos walked away.

After Jennifer came by and took down their information, they prepared to meet Dad and Stephanie for a snack in the Big Mountain Diner. On the way, they stopped into one of the restrooms.

Madison stepped up to the sink and smiled at her reflection.

In the center of her two front teeth there was a something red. A piece of strawberry!

“Aim, how could you not tell me that I had food in my teeth?” Madison cried.

A woman in a fur-trimmed ski parka and matching boots gave Madison a funny look before walking out of the bathroom.

“I didn’t see anything in your teeth, I swear,” Aimee said.

Madison quickly picked out the bit of strawberry and sat down on a small, hard couch in the restroom waiting area.

“He must have seen it, though,” Madison said.

Aimee giggled. “So what?” she said. “He’s only the ski instructor, Maddie. Who cares?”

Madison shrugged. “I do. I care,” she said, knowing that Aimee would have cared twice as much if she’d been the one caught with food in her teeth.

As they walked off to meet Dad at the restaurant, Madison tried not to obsess about what had happened, but it was hard to ignore her gut feeling. Just when something seemed right, bad luck came along.

Even though Aimee didn’t believe in bad luck, Madison was convinced it had been following them around since the trip started.

M
ADISON AND AIMEE STOOD
crushed up against the Big Mountain chalet wall for almost an hour as they waited to rent ski stuff. When they finally reached the front of the line, a redheaded woman in a pink ski suit asked them for their shoe sizes. She looked like a model from some ski magazine, her lips covered in shining gloss as she spoke to them. In fact, as far as Madison was concerned, half the people in the ski shop looked like models.

“Okay, girls,” the pink lady said, “Do you have your parental permission slips?”

Dad and Stephanie had filled out all of the necessary paperwork so that Madison and Aimee could take lessons on their own.

“We’ll keep your boots, skis, and poles here until your beginners’ lesson this afternoon,” the woman said as she handed them a yellow ticket. “Just bring this back and you can get everything you need. And don’t forget! You’ll have to read all the regulations for the slopes, girls. You are beginners, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Aimee said. “How can you tell?”

The woman laughed. “Good luck!” she said.

“Okay, let’s see,” Aimee said, reading one of the flyers. “In order to ski, we need sunblock, apparently. And a helmet, too. I think. I can’t tell if it’s required or what. But we need sunglasses and waterproof clothes and gloves and… Maddie, I have this stuff in my suitcase. Do you?”

Madison rolled her eyes. “Of course not,” she said. “This trip is so complicated. I barely have clothes to wear away from the slopes, remember?”

“Oh, Maddie,” Aimee said, wrapping her arm around Madison’s shoulders. “You look great in whatever you wear.”

Madison wanted to burst out laughing. Luckily for them, there was a ski-shop outlet on the Big Mountain property. And Stephanie was in the mood to shop. After lunch, Stephanie and Dad treated Madison to a pair of ultracool shades (with deep purple frames and mirrored lenses), a woolen headband, and a new pair of waterproof gloves (also in purple, because nothing seemed to come in Madison’s favorite color, orange). But the best thing they bought for Madison was the perfect addition to her ski outfit—a pair of pants with a bib that fit over Madison’s shirt. Aimee was jealous.

“You look like a real skier,” Aimee said when Madison tried them on.

Madison beamed at herself in the mirror.

She really did look like a skier.

While Dad and Stephanie headed up the mountain for their own ski adventure, Madison and Aimee took their yellow tickets and went to retrieve their rented boots and skis. They needed to get ready for their two o’clock lesson.

The lessons were all held at the same place on the mountain, an area called Big Ski. As they approached on foot, Madison was nearly run over by a racing snowmobile—or at least it felt that way. Everyone was rushing to see someone or something. Aimee thought she saw lights flashing like a camera’s.

“Excuse me,” Madison asked an older gentleman standing on the sidelines in his ski goggles, with an annoyed look on his face. “What’s going on?”

“Those movie stars think they own the place,” the man said with a grunt. “Well, I was here first, I’ll tell you. Been coming to this mountain for forty-nine years.”

“Did he say
movie stars
?” Aimee asked. She grabbed Madison’s elbow. “What are we standing here for? Let’s go see who it is!”

Madison and Aimee scrambled across the snow and pushed their way through a throng of kids and adults. Somewhere along the way, they got separated.

“Aimee?” Madison called out.
“Aimee?”
By now, she could tell that the flashing lights definitely were those of paparazzi cameras. The crowd was too noisy for Aimee to hear Madison’s cries.

Ooooooooof!

Madison was knocked to the ground by a young boy hurrying in the opposite direction. He extended his hand and helped her to her feet.

“Sorry,” the boy said. “That was my fault.”

Madison shook the snow off her butt and legs and regained her composure as best as she could. Aimee had not yet reappeared.

“Thanks,” she said, as the boy retrieved Madison’s new purple sunglasses from the snow.

“Are you okay? I really slammed into you,” the boy said with a big smile.

Madison smiled right back. She wondered what the boy’s name was.

“I’m Hugh,” the boy said, as if he’d read her mind. “Hugh Jackson.”

“Oh, hi. I’m Madison,” she said. “Madison Finn.”

Just then, Aimee caught up.

“You left me back there!” Aimee said, pretending to whine. She seemed not to notice the boy standing next to Madison. In fact, she blocked Madison’s view of the boy altogether.

“Attention!” one of the Big Mountain ski employees yelled through a bullhorn. “Your attention, please! There is no lingering on the slopes. Please make your way to a lodge or trail. Thank you for your cooperation.”

“Did you see him?” a girl screamed. “He’s way cuter than on TV!”

“Who?
Who?”
Aimee asked. The girl didn’t hear Aimee, so she knuckled her way into the crowd, dragging Madison along behind her. “Maddie, come on! We have to see who it is! Hurry!”