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“She might not be able to take the time off,” he warned.
“But it’s Christmas,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, but she has a new position with Elise. Didn’t she tell you?”
No. She didn’t tell me. Maddie and I don’t talk anymore.
At some point between me taking the job with the Times and now, our friendship dissolved into thin air. Wait, wrong—not at “some” point. It was a million different points. A million different texts that went unanswered. A million different phone calls that went straight to voicemail. A million different emails that probably never got read.
She ditched me.
I left for Paris, and the phone calls and texts started trickling in less and less. She didn’t take a guillotine to our friendship. It was slower, more drawn out. There were so many awkward moments where I had to consider if I was reading too much into the silence. Maybe she’s just busy, I told myself. Maybe her phone’s dead. Maybe she has a new life and it doesn’t include me.
Of course, I asked Jolie and James about it.
“She isn’t getting back to you? We just spoke to her last night. She found a new roommate.”
“Oh cool. Yeah, well could you have her call me?”
“Sure thing.”
Nothing.
And that was a year ago.
Either they never passed on my messages, or Maddie never actually took them to heart.
Once the line of communication completely faded to nothing, I thought about flying back to Austin to see her face to face, but I never found the time to take off work, at least not in the beginning. When I did manage to carve out a long weekend, I was faced with the hard question: would Maddie even want to see me?
This whole thing is ridiculous.
I’ve let it grow into a bigger deal than it really is.
I’ll see her today and everything will click right back into place. Maddie and Aiden together again, just like old times.
Jolie and James’ house backs up to Gore Creek in Vail, and once I pass the Four Seasons, I see it up ahead on my left. It’s a sprawling mountain chalet. Truly—I could fit my entire New York City studio apartment inside it ten times over. The driveway (heated, of course) has room for a whole fleet of cars. I pull in and park beside a white Mercedes SUV.
Their house is a nice pile of bricks. Or stones, rather. It does an okay job of trying to blend in with the mountains surrounding it, but something about it still shouts, LOOK AT ME!
Maybe it’s the size. Maybe it’s the location.
Maybe I’m focusing too much on a house and not enough on what’s about to happen once I step inside of it.
I sigh and push my door open, getting blasted by a whoosh of icy air. I’m still not used to real winters. I’m a Texan at heart, warm-blooded.
I round the back of my rental car and pop the trunk, retrieving my bags. One of them is filled with presents. Admittedly, I have an awkward number of gifts for Maddie, but it’s only because I haven’t seen her in so long. I picked up a little watercolor painting from an artist on the streets of Paris last year and had it framed. I also bought a locket from a jeweler in Lebanon when I was sent there this past summer. It’s inscribed with a tiny M on the front.
I threw in some crap for the others too. James is getting a bottle of whiskey, and I think I got a sweater for Jolie. I can’t remember; I just had a shop assistant wrap up whatever she thought seemed appropriate.
I do have some gifts for my nephew. Ford is almost a year old now, though I don’t know what that means exactly. Is he walking? Eating real food? Do they already babble at this age or am I jumping the gun?
I guess I’ll find out.
I head up to the front door and knock, waiting for someone to answer.
It takes a while. My fingers start to go numb.
“Hello?” I bang on the door a little harder, annoyed.
Finally, it sweeps open and Jolie stands there wearing a red and white checkered apron over a black sweater dress. Little Ford is propped on her hip, chewing on his fist.
“Aiden! You made it!” she says with a wide welcoming smile.
She ushers me in and I toe off my boots so I don’t tromp snow through their house.
“How was the drive? Not bad, right?”
“No. I made good time.”
“And your rental held up? Mountain driving can be a little tricky.”
“It did fine.”
I don’t want to be talking to Jolie. No offense, but Maddie’s sister is about as entertaining as a bowl of Raisin Bran. My mom raised me right, though, so I resist the urge to put my hand on her forehead and push her aside, brusquely heading off to find Maddie. I let her give me a quick tour of the house as we head toward the kitchen.
