Nothing so needs reforming
as other people’s habits.
—Mark Twain
Tuesday, March 24, 1:25 p.m.
DAY 4
From bad to worse
As I ate my oatmeal this morning, I only had two goals.
One: to pick all the raisins out of my oatmeal. I don’t know why Aunt Lila put them there to begin with. Shouldn’t raisins fall in the category of things that a cook should put on the side, like brown sugar, so people can put whatever they want in their oatmeal?
Two: to make it down an easy blue run.
When we left ski school yesterday, Carmen said she was confident my body would get the hang of it today. But so far, her confidence was misplaced. I worked hard on it this morning. But I think the problem was more in my head than my body.
It started when we got to the lodge. I was putting on my boots when Sophie got her boots out of the locker next to mine, and instead of sitting down next to me, she went around the corner to another bench to put hers on. She might as well have been wearing a T-shirt that read I don’t want to be anywhere near you. The message was so clear.
Even though I’d vowed to let things go, I had to find out why Sophie was making such a statement. I put my snow boots in my locker and then confronted Sophie. “Did I do something to offend you?” I asked.
Sophie was adjusting the buckle on one of her boots. She stopped and looked up. “God, no.”
“I wish you’d just tell me what’s going on with you,” I said.
Sophie bent down and started fiddling with her other boot like it needed adjusting. “I can’t tell you. At least not yet.”
I waited until she finished. “Why?” I asked. It seemed like a pretty benign question. Sophie stood and picked up her snow boots.
“I’m going to put these in my locker,” she said.
I followed her. “Can you at least answer my question?” I asked.
“This isn’t a game, like ranking the instructors.” She looked annoyed.
I felt the same way. “How would I know what it is? You haven’t told me a thing.”
“Drop it!” she practically spat the words at me. Then she exhaled, louder than was necessary. “Let’s just ski.”
So we did. Sophie, Harry, Mia, Amanda, and I spent the morning with Carmen again. I tried to focus on skiing, but I kept thinking about my conversation with Sophie.
What’s going on that she can’t tell me . . . yet?
That’s what I was thinking about when I almost ran into a tree. “April!” I heard Carmen yell my name, and I stopped just in time. “Keep your thoughts on the slopes!” Carmen said when she caught up to me.
“Are you a ski instructor or a mind reader?” I asked.
“Both,” she said. Then she smiled. “I’ve been doing this for a long time, and I’ve found that when you let yourself think about what’s going on off the hill, you don’t do as well on the hill. Just focus,” she said.
“I’ll try,” I promised.
At the bottom of the run, Amanda told Carmen she was quitting because she had period cramps. Mia and Harry skied off together to try the run again. That just left Sophie and me. As we rode up in the chairlift, I thought about saying something about what happened, but she was so quiet, I didn’t feel like I could.
When we broke for lunch, I decided I had to clear the air. If she wasn’t going to tell me her secret, I at least wanted to be able to focus on my skiing.
“I’m sorry about this morning,” I said.
While it’s not the resolution I wanted, a truce is at least an improvement.
5:45 p.m.
Back at the condo
BREAKING NEWS: I got down a blue run! All afternoon, that’s what we skied with Carmen, and by the end of the afternoon, I did it. It was an easy blue run, and I can’t say that I looked good doing it. But it was great to accomplish my goal, and Carmen was so proud of me.
“You did it. You did it. You did it, did it, did it!” Carmen chanted the words like a cheerleader. To their credit, Mia and Harry were just as happy for me.
I have to admit, I was happy too.
I wasn’t nearly as good as Harry or Mia, who both mastered blue runs and skied down a bunch of them all afternoon. But I got it done. Amanda and Sophie hadn’t even tried.
As we left ski school, I was pretty pumped about how much I’d advanced since we started. So when we all got back to the condo, I announced my accomplishment to everyone in my family.
“April, that’s great,” said Dad.
Gaga clapped like she was proud too.
“I went down a black run,” announced May. As everyone congratulated her, May said that Thomas told her she’s one of the best beginner skiers he has ever taught.
The happiness drained right out of me. I was happy for May, but I didn’t like her sense of competitiveness.
I don’t think Gaga liked it either. She didn’t directly acknowledge May’s accomplishment, and she even changed the subject.
“I’m proud of all of you,” said Gaga. “And so is Willy.” Then she brought out a shopping bag. She made a joke about how she and Willy had forgone their time in the hot tub to go shopping instead. “We have gifts,” she said.
She reached into the shopping bag and bought out stretchy bracelets for everyone. The bracelets had different sayings on them that related to skiing. As they gave everyone their bracelets, Gaga wanted us to go around the room and read what each of ours said.
Mine said, Fall down seven times. Get up eight. It was very descriptive of my day, except that I fell down a whole lot more than seven times.
There were lots of cool sayings, but June’s was the most compelling, at least in Aunt Lilly’s opinion. “My bracelet says, Believe you can, and you’re halfway there,” said June when Gaga got to her.
“I love that!” said Aunt Lilly. “It’s such a positive way to think. A person should always have faith and believe that they can conquer anything.” Then she repeated the word anything like she wanted to make sure it was heard. It had been. By everyone in the room. But clearly, the person she was talking to was Gaga.
Even though Aunt Lilly hadn’t used the word cancer, it was obvious that’s what she was talking about. An uncomfortable silence settled over the room. Mom and Aunt Lila exchanged a look like this line of conversation might not have a pleasant outcome.
But Gaga laughed. “We came on this trip to ski, not to talk about cancer. We don’t have time to talk about it now anyway, because Willy and I have another surprise.”
Charlotte clapped. “What’s the surprise?”
“We love surprises!” said Izzy.
Aunt Lilly’s shoulders slumped. I could tell she thought she’d found a perfect entry into a difficult conversation.
Gaga wrapped one arm around Charlotte and the other around Izzy. “We’re going out for dinner tonight,” she said. “Who’s up for pizza?”
Charlotte and Izzy cheered. Everyone looked happy.
“Pizza sounds good,” said Uncle Dusty. Dad and Uncle Drew gave him a thumbs-up in agreement. So did I.
When is pizza ever not good?
9:15 p.m.
Back from dinner
The answer to my last question is: tonight.
Correction: the pizza was delicious. But everything else pretty much sucked.
The problems started when we got to the restaurant. Izzy and Charlotte complained that we were waiting too long for a table. May wouldn’t stop saying that she’s worked up a huge appetite with all the advanced skiing she’d done and that she was STARVING! June kept reading the menu items out loud and said she wanted to see if she could memorize the whole thing before we were seated. No one was doing anything terrible, but collectively, they were all getting on my nerves.
We finally sat down at two tables, because we couldn’t get a table big enough for seventeen people, and Dad ordered pizzas for both tables. The pizzas he ordered sounded delicious, and when they arrived, I thought the worst was behind us. But it was just the beginning.
“Look who’s here!” I heard from behind me, but I didn’t have to turn around to know who said it.
“Mia!” said Harry.
“What a coincidence!” said Mia.
But I had a feeling it wasn’t all that coincidental. From the minute Gaga said we were going for pizza, Harry had been on his phone. I had a strong feeling he’d texted Mia and told her where we were eating, and then she got her parents to come here too.
“We’re about to order,” Mia said, like she couldn’t stay. She looked right at Harry, even though there were lots of other people at the table. “Want to come to my hotel after dinner and hang out? There’s a game room.”
“Sure,” said Harry, like the game room was the big selling point.
But I didn’t think it was and neither did Amanda. “Aren’t you a little old for a game room?” she asked Harry.
“It’s a game room for teens, not kids,” said Mia.
Amanda smiled at her. “Great, I’m a teen, and so are April and Sophie.”
“I’m almost a teen,” said May.
“We could all come,” said Amanda.
Mia raised a brow at Harry.
“I’ll see you later,” he said, like he’d make sure no one else attended.
“This is supposed to be a family vacation!” Amanda said.
When he didn’t respond, Amanda went on and on about how rude it was that Mia and Harry were trying to exclude the rest of us. Harry ignored her and ate in silence, but all of Amanda’s complaining was getting on my nerves. When we were done, Harry told Aunt Lilly he wanted to hang out with Mia, and Aunt Lilly said she was fine with it as long as he was back by ten.
Amanda complained all the way back to our condo that it wasn’t fair that Harry got to go out, and we didn’t. When we got home, Uncle Dusty got out Scrabble. “Who’s in?” he asked.
“I don’t want to play,” said Amanda.
“You love Scrabble,” said Uncle Dusty.
“Count me out,” said Amanda. She picked up a magazine and plopped down on the couch.
“I don’t want to play either,” said Sophie. And she didn’t even say why. She just went to her room and closed the door.
That just left me with a bunch of old people and some really young ones. I sat down to play Scrabble, but while I set up my tiles, I was thinking about what Amanda said to Harry: “This is supposed to be a family vacation.”
I don’t want to name names, but some people are acting very un-family-vacation-like.