Family Ties

“Hey,” he said unapologetically, “you mentioned hardheaded and obnoxious. Thought I’d live up to my reputation.” He refilled his own wineglass and sat down heavily.

He was a lot drunker than I realized. Wren and Christy were too, for that matter, while I was still nursing only my second glass.

The silence stretched out uncomfortably.

“Oh, gimme a break,” Trip told Wren. “Paul isn’t dumb. He knows it’s a setup. But this time it’s out in the open. ’Sides,” he took a sip of wine, “I told

’im about it earlier.”

“Told him,” he said mulishly. “Didn’t think it was fair for you to steamroll him like that.”

“I think the trip is a great idea,” Christy said out of the blue.

I looked at her in confusion.

“What?” she said. “I love skiing. And Squaw Valley’s beautiful.”

“Hold that thought,” I told her quickly. Wren was already drawing breath for an angry jab at Trip. I sat forward and interjected myself before the situation turned ugly. “Stop, Wren. Think about what you’re going to say. I guarantee it isn’t worth it.” I turned to Trip. “She thinks you’re a wonderful guy.”

“’S not what she said,” he grumbled.

“But it’s what she really thinks.” I turned to her. “Isn’t it?”

She glared. I didn’t flinch, so she turned it up a notch.

Her glare sprouted daggers.

I calmly ignored them. “Have you?”

“Wren! Pay very close attention to me. If you say whatever it is you’re thinking, you know how it’ll go. Trip’s pretty easygoing, but he isn’t a pushover.”

“Damn straight,” he said under his breath.

“And you have to admit,” I told her in a softer tone, “you weren’t very nice a minute ago.”

Christy silently shook her head.

Wren looked truculent but didn’t argue.

telling you she doesn’t love you anymore and leaving with another guy?”

He jerked upright. His high school girlfriend had broken his heart when she’d done just that.

“Yeah, I remember,” I said. “So… lemme ask you again: is starting a conversation really that bad?”

“No, I guess not,” he said after a moment. “But that was a really low blow, man.”

“You’re right. But it made you stop and think, didn’t it?”

“Uh-huh. And maybe for all her scheming, Wren’s the best thing that ever happened to you. Right?”

“Besides,” I added, “her scheming is because she wants her friends to be happy. I can think of a lot worse offenses than that.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“So maybe you can lighten up about it?”

“A million times better,” she said with genuine contrition.

“Sorry I put you up to it,” Wren told him quietly.

“Sorry I got obnoxious and hardheaded.”

“Paul’s right. You’re pretty wonderful.”

“’Cept when I’m not.”

“But only when I make you do things you don’t want to.”

She reached over and touched his hand. He turned it palm-up and clasped hers.

I breathed a long sigh of relief and glanced at Christy, who smiled and blinked back tears.

“So,” I said after a moment, “tell me about this ski trip.” I picked up my refilled wineglass and gestured at Wren with it. “Trip’s on your side.

“I stopped counting,” Wren said. She cleared her throat and took a long sip of wine. “Someone convinced me it was real people with real lives.”

I laughed and saluted her with my glass.

“Do you wanna tell him, sweetheart?” she said to Trip. “It’s your story.”

“Yeah, okay.” He sat forward and pushed his own wineglass aside. Then he smoothed the tablecloth as he gathered his thoughts.

The longer version of the story was that he and Wren had been discussing a ski trip since they’d first mentioned it, several weeks earlier. They’d originally been thinking Colorado and had asked his parents if they knew anyone with connections in the area. Did it have to be Colorado, his father had asked, or would anywhere do? It would, they’d said, so he’d made a call to a songwriter friend who owned a cabin in Squaw Valley, in California. The friend had offered to let Trip and Wren use it for as long as they wanted.

“The owner doesn’t mind if you bring guests?” I asked.

“Practically insisted when we told her,” he said.

“It isn’t right on the slopes,” Wren said, “but she said it’s a short walk from the resort.”

“Hey, I’m not gonna complain,” I said. “Beggars can’t be choosers.

Besides, I know how much those places cost. I’ll take ‘free’ any day.”

“No kidding,” Trip said.

“What about the sleeping arrangements?” I shot a sideways glance at Christy.

She hesitated and then nodded.

“It’s a two-bedroom cabin,” Trip said, “but the couch in the living room folds out.”

“I can live with that,” I said, and Christy nodded. “What do you think?” I asked her. “Is it too soon? I mean, that’s a pretty big step.” I could almost hear Wren hold her breath.