“Soup’s on!” I heard Martha holler, and everyone started shuffling toward the dining room.

I didn’t see Eric again for the rest of the night. Well okay, except for when I lay in bed later and closed my eyes. I saw those long, stained fingers and that crooked nose and him saying softly, “I never did.”

And then I giggled a little as I whispered out into the night, “What did that mean?”

“What do you say, kid? Last day to hit the slopes. You coming?” asked Dad, putting down his coffee cup.

Our last day! I couldn’t believe it. Dad looked at me expectantly. What I really felt like doing was hanging out here with Eric and Fozzie. But I couldn’t say that. And where was Eric, anyway? My window looked out on the back and I had happened to see him early that morning taking off in his truck. He still hadn’t come back, as far as I knew. It’s not like we had planned to see each other today, anyway. But I felt excited and nervous, but mostly excited to see him again. Okay, and nervous. And confused.

“What do you think? Should we try Seneca Mountain today?”

“I’m in!” said Jeremy. I think he was really sore from his snowboarding expedition, but I knew he would never admit it.

“Me too!” said Kathy.

Dad turned to me. What could I say? That I might sorta maybe run into a guy that I had thought was the biggest jerk on earth and now I was too scared to even say his name?

“Yeah, okay.”

Seneca Mountain was actually a series of slopes, folding on top of one another, each peak reaching higher into the sky. We decided we would all try cross-country for the morning. Dad said it would be easy for me and Jeremy to learn, which was fine with me. Just looking at the downhill trails made me a little uneasy, and I noticed Jeremy was walking kind of funny, like there were balloons stuck between his legs or something, but I resisted the urge to make fun of him.

We got our skis and then made our way out to the bottom of the main slope to wait for the chairlift. This place was definitely off the beaten track — it wasn’t nearly as crowded as Sugar Peak. Just open sky and mountains cascading down on every side. It was glorious. I really wanted to be sharing it with Dad, but somehow he wound up talking to Jeremy in the back of the line and before I knew it, Kathy and I were sliding into a chair and being whisked up and away.

“Ah. Sure is magnificent up here,” she said, shielding her eyes with her gloved hand.

“Yeah,” I said. I wasn’t sure how long the lift was, but I wondered if we could talk about the scenery the whole time. It hit me then that the two of us had barely spoken the whole week.

She was tapping her fingers quickly on her legs. I guess we were both at a loss for words. “Have you had fun up here?” she asked finally.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I am just so impressed with how fast you and Jeremy picked this stuff up. I mean, I’m still terrified of downhill.”

“Oh, you know.” I honestly didn’t mean to be incommunicative. I was just thinking about a million other things right then.

“Did you used to —” Kathy began. And then, halfway through her sentence, the car lurched forward and stopped.

“What was that?” I gasped.

“I’m not sure,” she said. She put a smile on her face but I could see there was panic in her eyes. We were somewhere past the tops of the trees, dangling about a gazillion feet over the ground. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but we were a long way up.

“Attention skiers! Attention skiers!” There was someone on a megaphone at the bottom of the slope. “We are experiencing some difficulty with the chairlift. Please remain in your seats with your hands on the bar and we will fix this as soon as possible!”

“What does that mean? Difficulty?” I stammered.

“I’m not quite sure,” said Kathy slowly.

I like to think of myself as a fairly level-headed person. I don’t burst into tears that often, and I know what to do in case of a fire. I’ll always volunteer to be in the exit row on a plane, and I know how to treat a nosebleed. But I guess I am not the best companion during a real crisis. It’s this head of mine. It just keeps on spinning. How were they going to get us out of there? Would they take us out by air lift or would we have to swing from a rope like Tarzan or what? I didn’t know how to climb down a rope. I mean, we did that in gym class once but I never got the hang of it and then our teacher, Mr. Stern, was sick the next day so we just watched movies on schoolyard safety. Oh, I hoped they didn’t give us a rope. Or maybe a giant net? Could they do that? Did we sign waivers or something?

And then my mouth started flapping.

“I mean, does this happen a lot? Do they know what they’re doing? What if it doesn’t get unstuck? Do they have a plan of some sort?”

I knew Kathy didn’t have any of these answers, but I couldn’t help myself. And now we were slowly rocking back and forth, somewhere in midair.

“Hey, Sam! Kathy! You all right?”

Dad’s voice came from somewhere behind us. I forgot that we were all caught up here, hanging by that tiny wire.

“Yeah!” we called back in unison, and then we both laughed a little. It actually felt good to laugh.

“Don’t worry! The guy behind us says this happens a lot! It’ll get cleared up soon!”

I closed my eyes and tried to focus my breath. In, 2, 3. Out, 2, 3. In, 2, 3. Out, 2, 3.

Then I felt Kathy touch my knee. I opened my eyes.

“It’s gonna be okay, Sam,” she said.

“Yeah, I know,” I said.

“I mean … with us.” She looked me right in the eye now. Her gaze was steady and calm.

“Yeah,” I said. I didn’t know what else to say.

“I mean, we both have a lot to learn about each other. I’m scared, too, you know. I never expected — did you ever hear how your dad and I met?”

“No.”

I had never even asked. I had been too busy being mad. That first phone call when he told me he’d started seeing someone and he thought — he hoped — I would like her. I was sitting on the floor of my bedroom, and I remember hanging up on him so I could cry.

“Do you want to know?” she asked gently, watching my face, which I know was lost in thought.

“Yes. Yes,” I said. And I meant it.

“Well, let me first say this. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with someone fourteen years older than me — with two kids and a mortgage and a tan sedan. No offense, but that’s just not how I had imagined it.” She laughed. She was really pretty, especially when she laughed. And then she stopped herself. “Are you sure it’s okay that I’m telling you this?” she asked.

I nodded again. “Please,” I said.

“Okay, well, the first thing that happened was he took my parking spot outside the travel agency. I always parked in the same spot, right on the corner of Degraw and Lafayette. And one day, I was running late to work, as usual, and your father cut me off. Oooh, I was so mad! I rolled down my window and I was screaming all sorts of names at him. It was not pretty.”

She giggled and rolled her dark eyes. I thought of the way I had snapped at Eric that first night outside on the steps.

“And your father, gentle soul that he is, pulled out after me, followed me around the corner and all the way down the hill, where I finally found a parking spot. I didn’t notice that he was behind me, of course, until I got out of the car and there he was. I was in such a rush, I remember, I slammed my bag in the car door. I was cursing like a sailor. And then when I saw him standing there, wow, I really laid into him. ‘I park there every day!’ and ‘Don’t you have any common courtesy?’ And I remember I ended it by saying, ‘And now it looks like you’re following me!’ And then, he waited for me to finish, with those beautiful, patient eyes, and he looked at me and said, ‘You are absolutely right. I am following you. Because you were right, and I was wrong. And I’d like the chance to make it up to you.’”