Meant to Be (4 page)

After a nice quiet Christmas Eve at my parents’ church, Dad announced that everything was all set and that we're going to the mountains to stay in his boss's cabin and hopefully get in some skling for a few days. I'm actually pretty glad because I haven't skied for a while, and last month Cesar talked me into signing up for a youth group snow trip scheduled for January. I almost backed out of it when I found out that Mom was sick, but then my parents decided to pay for it as part of my Christmas present so I guess it's settled.

Now I'm hoping that I'll get in enough practice this week so I won't make a total fool of myself next month. Especially since it's possible that Matthew might go on the youth group trip too. He surprised me by stopping by to wish me a Merry Christmas yesterday.

“Sounds like you're having a pretty nice Christmas
break,” Matthew said after I told him about the ski trip my dad had just sprung on us. “I haven't been snowboarding in ages.”

“My youth group is having a snow trip,” I told him. “It's the weekend after New Year s. You could talk to Cesar about coming on it if you want.”

He considered this, and just when I felt certain he was going to blow it off for being a “church” thing, he said he might look into it. Then he handed me what appeared to be a Christmas present.

“What is it?” I said in excited surprise as I examined the smooth, flat package. It was wrapped in pale green paper that appeared to be handmade and tied with raffia and a piece of holly. Quite attractive, really.

He shrugged and looked slightly embarrassed. “Just something I made. Thought you might like it.”

“I have something for you too,” I said suddenly, racing over to the Christmas tree that was now void of packages except this one. I could tell he was relieved when I handed it to him. I'm sure he probably had the same uncomfortable feeling that I'd experienced when I imagined giving him a gift only to discover that he hadn't done likewise.

So we sat on the couch to open our packages together. I was glad that not only had I taken the time to carefully wrap mine, but I'd also done a little sketch on the first page of the sketchbook, kind of a Christmas scene with a tree and an elflike character saying, “Merry Christmas, Matthew!” Because when I opened my gift I
could see that Matthew had put a fair amount of effort into it.

“This is so beautiful.” I studied the neatly framed pen and ink drawing. “When did you do this?”

“Last night,” he told me.

I looked carefully at the portrait of a mother and small daughter. Although their faces weren't fully shown, it definitely had an Asian feel to it. “It's amazing.”

“You really like it?”

I turned to look at him, seeing that he hadn't even opened my package yet. I nodded. “It's awesome, Matthew. I love it.”

He smiled. “I saw this photograph in a magazine my mom had, and for some reason it reminded me of you. So I decided to draw it last night. I like how it turned out.”

“So do 1.1 really love it!” Now I looked at the still-unopened package in his lap. “But now my gift seems pretty dull compared to this.”

“No,” he said quickly as he tore into the package and removed the sketch pad and pencils. “Hey, I needed a new one. Thanks, Kim!”

“It's nothing like this…” I sat staring at the drawing, still impressed with the thought and talent that had gone into it.

“Oh, hello,” my mom said as she came into the living room. “I didn't realize you had company, Kim.”

“Look at this, Mom!” I got up and took the picture to her. “Matthew drew it.”

She peered at the picture for a long moment then looked over at Matthew still sitting on the couch. “That is beautiful, Matthew. Truly beautiful.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Peterson.” But he looked slightly embarrassed now.

“You're a very good artist, Matthew.”

“Thanks.”

“We have fresh cinnamon rolls in the kitchen,” she said. “And I just made a pot of coffee.”

He smiled. “Sounds good.”

“Did you have a good Christmas?” she asked him.

He kind of shrugged. “It was okay, I guess.”

“Well, it's nice to see you today.” Then she turned to me. “Dad went for a walk, and I'm going to take a short nap. The turkey is in the oven now, but it won't be done until around five.” She glanced back at Matthew. “Maybe you'd like to join us for dinner later?”

“Man, that sounds good, but I promised my mom I'd be back in time to help her. She invited some relatives over this evening…and, well, you know how that goes.”

Mom smiled. “I'm sure it must be nice. We don't have much family around here.” Then she headed off to her room, and I led Matthew to the kitchen.

“Where are your parents’ families?” he asked as he sat at the counter and reached for a cinnamon roll.

As I poured us some coffee, I told him about my parents’ families. “My mom has a few relatives back East, but her parents are both dead. And my dad's family, his older brother and mom, live in Florida. His
brother has been having some health problems lately, and Grandma Peterson is getting old, so they don't come to visit much. Mostly it's just the three of us. Pretty quiet.”

“Well, that sounds good to me. This whole houseful of feuding relatives thing gets old, especially during the holidays.”

I nodded as I handed him a mug of coffee. “It's weird, but Nat kind of said the same thing. And then she e-mailed me this story about her mom and aunt and grandma really getting worked up over a stupid recipe for combread. It almost makes me thankful that we don't have a bunch of family around. But then I'd like to think that not all families fight during the holidays.”

“I'm sure there must be some happy ones out there.” He pulled off a piece of cinnamon roll and popped it in his mouth. “I just don't happen to know of any personally. So when do you guys get back from the mountains?”

“Dad said we leave on Tuesday and stay until Sunday.”

“So you'll be gone for New Year's Eve?”

I glanced over at Mom's calendar on the fridge. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Now Matthew looked slightly bummed.

“Why?”

“Oh, I was going to invite you to a party.”

“What party?” I asked.

“Robert Sanchez is having something…”

My brows rose a bit. Knowing Robert, it would probably be a drinking party. “Oh.

“He's got a live band and everything.”

Oh…” I said again.

Matthew sighed. “Yeah, I know there's probably going to be alcohol there, Kim. But that doesn't mean you have to get wasted, you know.”

I nodded. “I know.

“But you think it might compromise your convictions,” he said in more of a statement than a question.

“I guess so.”

“Right.” But he didn't look convinced.

“I just don't see why they have to have alcohol at parties,” I said. “I mean, don't you remember what a mess it was the night of the Harvest Dance when Marissa and Robert drank too much? Where's the fun in that?”

“Yeah, I can kind of see your point. But that was because Marissa overdid it. And you know how she is; she overdoes everything.”

“Maybe, but why even go there in the first place?”

“It's something to do,” he said. “A way to celebrate the New Year.”

“Well, if I was going to be home that night,” I said in a firm voice, “I'd rather go to the skating party that our church is haying. Everyone's going to dress up like people from the fifties, and I think that sounds like fun.”

He seemed to consider this, and I suddenly
remembered that his mother was a costume designer for our community theater.

“And I'll bet you could come up with a cool outfit, Matthew. Maybe you should go.”

He kind of shrugged. “I don't know.

“If you call Cesar about the ski trip, why not ask him about the skating party too?”

Matthew gave me a mischievous grin. “Why? Are you worried that I'll get plastered at Robert's party?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I just think you'd have more fun doing something else.”

“Wefl, I'll think about it.”

We decided to go out and get some fresh air and ended up playing a game of “horse,” which I nearly won. Then Dad got home, and we played a quick game of two-on-one basketball (me and Dad against Matthew). But Matthew definitely had the height and not a bad hook shot either.

“You're really good, Matthew,” my dad said after Matthew soundly beat us, and we all went inside for a soda. “I'm surprised you don't go out for basketball. From what I'm hearing, Harrison High could use you this year.”

“I used to play” He popped open a can and took a long swig.

“Why'd you quit?” I asked, slightly surprised that this long-haired artsy guy had ever been into sports.

“Long story.” Matthew took another drink and glanced up at the clock. Then I remembered something
he'd told me about his dad once, how he'd really been into sports and had encouraged Matthew when he was younger. But then his parents split up a few years ago, and I suspect that did something to Matthew's interest in sports.

“I should probably go.” He handed me the empty soda can. “Thanks for everything.” He turned to Dad. “Good game.”

Dad laughed. “Good for you anyway.”

Then I walked him to the door. “Thanks again for the picture. I really do love it.”

He nodded as he pulled on his sweatshirt. “Cool.” He paused to look at me. “Those new earrings?”

I smiled. “Yeah. Real diamonds. My mom got them for me for Christmas.”

“Wow. They look really pretty on you.”

“Thanks. Now don't forget to call Cesar about the ski trip,” I reminded him as I opened the front door. I controlled myself from mentioning the New Year's Eve party again. But after I watched his old blue pickup going down the street and turning the comer, I immediately ran back into the house to call Cesar.

After wishing him a Merry Christmas, I told him about Matthew's interest in the ski trip.

“That's cool.”

“So I told him to call you. But then I thought maybe you could talk him into going to the skating party too. I'm going to be gone, but I thought Matthew might really enjoy it.”

“Great idea, Kim.”

“But don't tell him I called,” I said quickly. “I mean, I don't want it to sound like I'm planning out his life or anything. I, uh, just care about him, you know?”

“I get you. Matthew's a cool guy. But he needs Jesus.”

“Yeah.”

“Have fun skling,” he said. “Don't break anything.”

I laughed. “Yeah, I'll try to come home in one piece.”

Well, I tried snowboarding on my first day here, and after a half day of falling on my face about every thirty seconds, I think I finally got the hang of it. And now I totally love it and have absolutely no desire to go back to skis. Of course, Dad's not too pleased at the idea of renting a board each day (especially since I already have my own skis), but Mom talked him into it.

“Who knows when we'll be up here to do this again?” she said, and he didn't protest. I almost wish he had.

Mom has never been into skling herself, but Dad's not bad for an old dude, and he's the one who introduced me to the sport in the first place. Even so, I know that Mom loves coming up here. She likes the snow and mountain air, and she brought along her books and knitting and really enjoys sitting by the fire in the lodge or even out on the deck when the sun is shining.

Dad and I made sure that we came in regularly to check on her. But she already seemed to have made a couple of friends with other moms who aren't interested in hitting the slopes either. So we all seemed to be having a pretty good time. And I was becoming a fairly respectable boarder or “rider” as another girl up here told me.

“How long you been riding?” she asked as we rode the blue chairlift together. For the most part, my cautious dad likes to avoid the blue route so I've been taking it alone.

“I just started this week,” I told her. “But I used to ski.”

“Boards are so much better.”

“Yeah, I have to agree.”

“I gotta laugh when I see those skiers with their sticks and poles, fumbling around to get it all in place. And all we gotta do is ride.” She pointed to a skier who just wiped out below us, a mess of skis and poles all over the place.

“Man,” she said. “Look at that garage sale down there.”

I laughed as the guy got up and started retrieving his stuff.

“By the way, I'm Maggie,” she said as we came to the top.

“I'm Kim,” I said as I got my board straightened up to make what I hoped would be a graceful exit from the chair.

“Want to go down together?”

“Sure.” I held on to the chairlift pole, balancing my weight to slide off the seat. “But G? warn you that I'm still a beginner.”

“No problem.”

So we both got off, and she waited for me to make my way over to her and then adjust my bootstraps. Then she gave me a few tips, and I followed her lead and thankfully didn't wipe out until we were nearly halfway down. And even then it wasn't too bad. I managed to get back up without even making a full stop.

“Good job,” she called out. “Just get back on and keep riding.”

I rode with Maggie for the rest of the day, and Dad actually seemed relieved to spend the afternoon with Mom.

“You going to be here tomorrow?” she asked as we took our last ride before the lifts closed at four.

“Yeah, we don't leave until Sunday morning.”

“Want to hang together tomorrow too?”

“Sure,” I told her. And so we agreed to meet for breakfast at the lodge restaurant in the morning and get an early start.

“That's great,” my dad said when I told him about our plans. “Maybe I can take your mom for a sleigh ride.”

“She'd love that,” I said. And I could tell he was relieved that I'd found a snowboarding buddy. Not that he wasn't enjoying the skling; I really think he was. But I also think he felt bad about leaving Mom on her own so
much of the time. Although, she seems fine and hasn't complained at all.

Still, I know that we're both feeling a little torn about her right now. On one hand, we all act like everything is just peachy, perfectly normal. But at the same time, it's like we're walking on eggshells too. like we're all thinking the same thing—is this going to be the last time we'll be up here as a family? Is this our last Christmas all together? And even though we're all having a pretty good time, it's like there's this dark shadow hanging over us.