Snowed Under (Aspen Peaks #2)

15. Madeline

T rue to his word, Cooper texted me on Thursday night after I picked up Charlie from the lodge.

Part of me expected him to be weird about the whole agreement. Actually, I expected myself to be weird about it. But when I left work early to grab Charlie, I caught them talking to the side. I couldn’t hear everything they were saying, but Charlie stared at Cooper intensely as he spoke with his hands. Something about leaning back or maybe pulling back his skis? It was hard to understand, but I certainly didn’t miss the way Charlie looked up at Cooper like he was standing next to an actual superhero. It made me feel just a little better about our arrangement. Well, that and when I asked my mom if she could watch the kids for me for a “date night,” she practically squealed into the phone and proceeded to share details of how she “locked in” my dad early on. The words that followed would henceforth be burned into my memory like a painful scar.

Cooper: still good for tomorrow

He didn’t include any punctuation, but I assumed he was asking instead of telling.

Me: Yup, where should we meet?

Cooper: ill pick you up

Cooper: dress warm

I contemplated that for over an hour, wondering why I would need to dress warmly, or at least warmly enough for him to mention it. I imagined the possibilities of what he would define as not-date material. More than likely skydiving in those squirrel suits off a snowy mountaintop, or maybe joining a flash mob dance downtown without knowing any of the dance moves. Either way, I had no idea how to prepare myself that night.

I stood in front of my closet and pulled out a pair of flared jeans. They paired well with my cowgirl boots—a recent obsession after Olive and I had watched The Longest Ride ten times in one week—and a sweater. I laid the outfits on the bed and turned to Piper beside me. She stood there, hands on her hips, a toddler-safe sucker sticking out of her mouth, and shook her head disapprovingly.

“What?” I asked.

She didn’t respond, of course. She just looked from the outfit to me, and then proceeded to saunter out of the room, closing the door on me. So this outfit was a no. As I turned back to my closet, looking at the articles of clothing I’d worn over the last seven years, my door opened again.

Charlie popped his head in and clocked me in front of the closet before walking over and standing right beside me.

“Are you going on a date?” The way he worded it sounded like I’d signed up for a marathon or mosh pit in the middle of nowhere.

I didn’t want to lie, but I definitely couldn’t tell the truth. So I stared down at that sweet, freckled face that was quickly transforming right into his dad’s. He still had that baby face a little. He wasn’t looking fully grown by any means. No hint of facial hair coming any time soon, and he still had some of that squish in his cheeks. But the kid had grown a foot since I’d had him, and his once tiny boy nose was slowly turning into a pointy man nose. I just couldn’t stand it. He was getting so big so fast, and I felt like I was missing something right in front of my eyes. Like I had been watching a movie, but left to get popcorn, and when I came back, poof, there went the credits.

“No,” I somewhat lied, somewhat didn’t. “Just seeing an old friend. Nothing fancy.” Cooper was an old friend. Older than me, at least.

“Are they gonna…come inside?” he asked timidly.

“Uh, probably not. They’re pretty shy.”

The lies just piled up one after the other, like a credit card swipe or two, and suddenly, you owe ten thousand dollars, and you start to consider selling every pair of underwear you own on Etsy.

“Hmm,” Charlie hummed, like he didn’t believe me and walked up to my closet, grabbing a sky blue sweater that hit me at a weird angle and was the wrong kind of oversized. “Wear this.” He laid it on the bed next to my pants.

“That sweater isn’t very flattering on me.” I hated that word, but I couldn’t exactly tell my kid oh, can’t wear that because the last time I did, someone at the pharmacy asked when my baby was due.

“I know.” He shrugged and walked out of the room. I balled up the sweater and threw it at the door as his prepubescent laughter echoed down the hall. He was still my little boy deep down.

Deciding to stick more to comfort than looks, I picked my favorite cream-and-black striped sweater on top of a white undershirt for warmth and pulled on tight flared jeans with long fuzzy socks and Ugg boots. He said dress comfy, not dress like we were going to see the Queen of England.

After I dropped off the kids at my parents’ house, I left with a whole lot of unsolicited advice and a condom slipped into my hand by my own mother, who said, and I quote, “Can’t have any more running around right now.” I threw it into the garbage outside, right where her camera system faced and faked a gag to the security device.

I pulled into Cooper’s driveway, remembering which house it was by the greenish-gray front door and wooden shutters. The front porch was small, but not as tiny as mine. I remembered standing on that porch and glimpsing inside, seeing an extremely gray, immaculately clean living room behind the man with dull eyes. His large white SUV sitting out front gave me a hint too.

I parked next to his car and hopped out, unsure if this was the kind of situation where I should knock on his door or send a simple I’m here, come outside text. It wasn’t like this was a date by any means, so I shouldn’t have felt this uncomfortable and unsure of what to do. But still, when Cooper walked out of his front door with keys in his hand and a giant smile on his face, I felt a tsunami-size wave of relief flooding over me.

He looked down at my outfit and back up to me, smirking that wolfish grin that made me feel like I was meek prey.

“You said dress warm,” I defended.

Cooper shook his head a bit. “S’cute. I like it.”

My cheeks warmed at that. Cute. Like a cartoon duck or a bunny in a field of wildflowers, hopping around aimlessly.

We piled into his SUV, and I immediately took note of the new tree hanging from his rearview mirror. A green one this time. The aroma of pine and crisp and spicy outdoors. It felt like getting a hug from a buff, surly lumberjack wearing a red flannel. In the best way possible, of course.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“It’s a surprise” He put the car into reverse and began backing out of the driveway, turning his head past me and leaning closer to my seat to see. “But you’ll like it, I think. It’ll give us a good, clean palate so you can see what you do or don’t enjoy.”

I tried to think of what we could do in Aspen that Cooper would consider a palate cleanser but came up entirely short. “Well, you’re right about one thing: it will definitely be a surprise.”

He nodded. “It’s not far. ’Bout twenty minutes.” He stopped the car in front of his house and pulled out his phone, which was connected to the car’s console. “All right, music. We can either do an early 2000s playlist or we can do my cowboy playlist. Pick one.”

I shrugged. “I don’t care. Either is fine.”

“No, Madeline. This is all part of the find yourself experience. You have to pick. I chose the location; everything else is on you.”

My curiosity was piqued at that, but I held my hands out and spoke through a chuckle. “I really don’t car—”

“Pick one.”

“No, you—”

“Now. Three, two, one—”

“Two thousand,” I shouted and then pulled back, surprised. My bottom lip jutted out as I tilted my head. “Huh, I really thought I was going to say the other one.”

Maybe he wasn’t too far off with this whole find yourself thing. Although if finding myself was going to include any form of ritualistic sacrifice, jumping out of planes, or taking hallucinogens like any of the self-proclaimed celebrities said, I was out.

He turned the volume up and spoke around Maroon 5’s “This Love.”

“This is going to be fun.” He smiled and took off down the street, leaving me wondering and all too excited.

“A drive-in?” I asked through a gasp-slash-laugh. “We’re going to a drive-in when it’s”—I checked the temperature below his speedometer—“twenty-five degrees out?”

“It was a part of my theory.”

“Your theory?”

He nodded. “Yup, now pick between the two screens. We’ve got The Shawshank Redemption and Grown Ups.”

I hummed. “I don’t know, I’m fine with whate—”

Cooper clicked his tongue and shook his head with a tsk, tsk, tsk. “Come on, Madeline. I thought you’d catch on by now. I’m not picking a single thing tonight.”

I smiled to myself and watched as he pulled closer to where the road split into two, where I had to make the choice between two movies. “Uh…” I drew out.

“Better pick soon.”

“Fine, Grown Ups,” I decided, then leaned back in my seat.

“Perfect. I had a feeling about that.” Cooper grinned as he turned the car to the right side of the fork, following other cars packed into rows. We pulled in by the tiny hut covered in space heaters where a young girl was taking money for tickets. We bought tickets for one car and listened to her monotone spiel about their rules and regulations. Something she clearly had memorized and probably snored out in her sleep.

“One ticket for one movie. Space heaters are available in the front if you pay extra. Concessions are to the left of the main bathrooms. Hit the line of Porta Potties, and you’ve gone too far. Please remember this is a family establishment and should be treated as such. No smoking, alcohol, or inflatable houses are allowed.”

I leaned past Cooper to look at the girl, who was chewing gum and playing with her acrylic nails. “Do people bring…inflatable houses?”

“You would be surprised at the things I’ve seen,” she deadpanned.

I rested back in my seat. All right, then.

“Thanks,” Cooper said to her. “We will refrain from bouncy houses, smoking, or public nudity.”

She nodded at him and tore the ticket stubs, pointing with two fingers to the area we should park in. Cooper drove off with the windows rolled down.

String lights were hung on the gravel driveway, lighting a path to the parking lot that faced a giant screen with a countdown on it. Twenty minutes until the movie started. The smell of popcorn and cotton candy filled my nose as I watched kids bundled up in giant coats sitting in the snow, playing beside their cars.

I pulled my jacket around myself tighter; thankful I’d put on layers and had decidedly not gone with the ugly sky-blue sweater.

“I’ll grab a heater when we get parked,” Cooper said, as though he could read my mind.

I nodded. “Sounds good. I can pay for it since you got the tickets.”

He shook his head and backed into the next available spot so the trunk faced the screen. We parked beside a silver Toyota Camry with an older couple sitting in their lawn chairs, heated blankets plugged in and sprawled across their laps.

“Nuh-uh-uh. That’s not a part of this deal.”

My fingers unbuckled the seat belt when he put the vehicle in park. “Well, I’ll find some kind of way to repay you…” Eventually. I wasn’t willing to say it aloud, but part of my worries in all of this was how I would afford whatever not-date he planned. I wasn’t broke by any means. It was just that I had every penny accounted for, and when some five-hundred-dollar expense got thrown my way, it knocked me off my feet a bit.

He shook his head and unbuckled his seat belt too. “Try all you want, Madeline. You’ll find cash in your mailbox the next day.”

“That sounds like a threat,” I joked.

“It’s a promise. I got you into this, so it’s only right.” He grabbed his keys and turned the car off. “Plus, you’ve got enough to worry about with the kids and all.”

I winced at that. Maybe it was ridiculous of me, but I hated how much that bothered me. That whole oh, you poor single mom thing. The pity-pouts at the grocery store when strangers asked, “Where’s dad?” When I had the strong urge to strictly answer with “he’s dead. Thanks for asking” just to humble them a bit. I hated the pity. The sympathy. As if me taking care of two of the most wonderful people in this world was such a burden.

Cooper paused with his door halfway open and pointed to me. “Don’t take it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I feel sorry for you or something.” My breath hitched in my throat. “You scrunch your nose every time something offends you or upset you. You know that?”

My fingers instinctively reached for my nose, as if to force it to stop.

“I didn’t mean it in an oh, poor you way. I meant it in a you have a lot on your plate and I’m glad I have a way I can help without overstepping way. That’s all.”

A slow, small grin pulled at my lips, and I dipped my chin. “Good.”

He nodded. “All right, now let’s get you fed.”

We walked down the pathway to the concessions, two tiny buildings across from each other, one with pizza signs and one with hot dogs.

“You know the rules. It’s up to you.” He stuck a hand out, as if to say after you, and I followed in consideration.

“Hmm. Pizza.”

He nodded. “Excellent choice. Noted.” Cooper pulled out his phone and typed a bit before putting it right back in his pocket. I pointed to it. “What was that?”

“My notes.”

“Your…notes?”

He nodded. “It’s for me to worry about. You mind your own business.”

I hummed in amusement and walked over to the pizza concessions. We stood in a long line filled with families young and old, waiting for our turn.

“How do you like your pizza?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I eat pretty much everything.”

He scowled at me, but there was amusement behind it. Like he was fighting a smile. He was smowling. “Madeline.”

“Fine, pepperoni.”

Cooper nodded, typed a bit more on his phone, and then put it away. I imagined him typing a note.

Not-date #1: all too boring, Madeline has no personality. 0/10 do not recommend.

In which he would be all too right.

The young couple at the front of the line turned from the window to order, giving us a better glimpse of them. That was when I froze entirely.

“Did I tell you what Mini Coop called me this week?” Cooper asked. But I was entirely solid, unable to move. Unable to react. A statue. A dried-out clay model called Surprise stuck on display.

Short blond hair, stocky build, large muscles, with a baby on his hip and a Henry Plumbing logo on his back. A petite long-haired brunette by his side with a Barbie-shaped figure, smiling up at him.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think.

“Madeline? Did you hear me?” Somewhere in the distance, Cooper was speaking. Wherever he was, I wasn’t there with him.

I watched as he leaned down to plant a kiss on a tiny blond head of hair. The baby leaned into his touch. I was going to be sick.

“Madeline?” A hand grasped my arm. Cooper. “You okay?”

No. No, no, no.

The couple grabbed the dinner they ordered, a diaper bag slung on the woman’s back, and that all too cute baby on his hip while they gathered their things. They were going to see us. Oh my God. He was going to see me.

That was when my body leapt into action. “We need to go.” I spoke low and fast.

Two hands fell to my shoulders, and Cooper stared at me. My eyes were still stuck to the front of the line. “Madeline, tell me what’s wrong. Do you have low blood sugar or something? I have glucose tabs in my car.”

I shook my head. “My ex is here. I-I can’t—” I reached up to my chest, like I could rip it open and will myself to breathe in that way.

“Which one?” he asked, scanning the line in front of us.

I shook my head again.

“Which one, Madeline?” Cooper insisted, and I lifted a shaky hand.

“In the front. With the baby.”

He turned to him and started to walk. “No—” I grabbed his wrist, catching him. “Please, he can’t see me. I can’t see him. Cooper, I’m begging you. I’m—” scared. Absolutely terrified that someone I put so much of myself into, who up and vanished in an instant, was going to turn around and see the shell of a person I was now. How empty I was. How…bland.

“Madeline.” He stared at me with this look I couldn’t read. And I wondered just how much fear he could see in my eyes. I looked back at them. At him and his beautiful wife and perfect baby, all turning our way. Cooper caught my stare and turned right back. “ CanIkissyou? ” he rushed out, squishing it all into one word.

“Yes,” I said before thinking. I meant to say what? but apparently, this whole fast-paced decision-making nonsense had my brain in a whirl.

And before I could react, his lips were on mine.