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“One. Two.”
“Wait,” she said, laughing. “That’s not fair. I’m not ready.”
“Three.” I deliberately dunked overly hard and splashed coffee everywhere.
Monroe was more delicate this time, but her eyes widened at my move.
“Hey, you two, what are you up to?” Ansel sent us a stern look, and I leaned in to whisper to Monroe.
“He’s a beast, isn’t he?” I threw a cookie at him.
“Is he going to be mad?” She chewed her lip.
“Only that he didn’t catch it. You toss him one.”
“Yeah?”
“Hey, cookie please?” Ansel propped the phone on his shoulder and held a hand out. “I had to special order those, so try to aim for me?”
Monroe reached for one but then pulled back. I was going to have to help her.
“If you could catch, it would go better. Here you go.” I tossed another of the biscotti, deliberately letting it fall short. “Hah!”
We’d never had a food fight in all the years we’d been friends, but the giggle we drew from our mate while making a mess of our kitchen made it worth it. I’d do a lot more than that to see her tense shoulders lower and the tension ease in her jaw. Monroe was far too young to be so stressed out.
Ansel scooped up the cookies that landed on the floor and threw them back at me. Each time, I did the same and soon, the crisp pastries we had first tasted in Italy and really did have to order through the local shop were crumbs scattered over the floor and counters and even the stovetop. It was a mess, and our mate was giggling like the young woman she was. My heart was so full. I could only pray she’d stay with us and let us show her how good life could be with mates who care about you. Who put your needs first and want you to be who you are and not what others intend for you.
After we managed to destroy most of the cookies, Monroe grabbed two and set them by her cup. “I’m not letting you waste all of them. Not without even getting a taste!”
Ansel winked at me. It was just a start, but we’d gotten her to let her guard down and be sassy with us. “Oh hello. Yes, I was inquiring about getting reservations for the Mountain Climb.” He listened. “Right. I know it’s usually a long wait. Six months? Wow.” He nodded. “Could you do me a favor and check to see if there are any cancellations? Any openings sooner?” Listening again. “Appreciate that.” A moment later, his eyes sparkled. “That’s amazing. Yes, hang on. I need to grab my wallet.” He gave us a thumbs-up and disappeared into the living room.
Monroe and I looked after him. “He must have gotten a reservation.”
“Yeah.” It was just a question of when. “He said ‘amazing’ so must be less than six months.”
“Far less.” He returned, holding the phone over his head in triumph. “How does tomorrow sound?”
“A little terrifying,” I joked. “Lucky we have our intrepid female here to encourage us to stretch our limits.”
“Oh, you don’t want to do it?” she piped up. “We could do something else like a hike? A movie?”
Ansel shook his head. “No, remember we said we’d wanted to go, but every other time, the reservations were so far out, we were afraid to commit to them with all our other travel and commitments. You are the best lucky charm ever.”
Chapter Fourteen
Monroe
The best lucky charm ever.
Yeah, for them possibly. For myself, not so much.
Now that we’d been through the whole reservation process, I needed to send a note to the in-flight magazine editors to let them know that they weren’t completely correct about the wait time for the terrifying climb. They could inform their readers that a phone call apparently could result in a much-sooner experience.
“You talked to an actual person?” I didn’t even know that was a thing anymore, but I didn’t think AI was advanced enough to have the conversation Ansel just completed. He got someone to look over their schedule and find a spot for not just one person but three. If I didn’t drop dead of fear the second I got a look at the actual location.
The pictures in the magazine were scary, but the people looked so happy and comfortable. They did not allow anyone under sixteen, and minors had to have a parent or guardian sign for them. But there were all ages above that, including one man who had to be someone’s old, old grandpa. Okay, he looked way more fit than me, but he had to be at least seventy or more. And he was hanging by one arm.
I tried to put tomorrow’s plan out of mind, hoping something would happen to cancel our trip. Maybe the person whose reservation we got really hadn’t intended to back out and would ask for their spots back? Unlikely, but a girl could hope. Climbing the stairs to my room, I was wondering if there was any way I could sneak out of the house and grab an Uber to the airport.
