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I agreed to try one more time, standing up carefully and bouncing on the board to a level spot where I could try get a bit of movement. My legs hurt from all the falling down, my elbow throbbed from where I had stubbed it a moment ago and I took a deep breath to steady me. The incline was very mild and I wouldn’t go too fast. I thought about Tate’s instructions and pushed my feet down to get the board moving. I felt it starting to slide and turned my hips slightly when all of a sudden, everything went haywire and I was flying through the air like a ragdoll.
“Oh, my God, are you all right?” Someone was calling out to me. I opened my eyes and tried to figure out where I was. I was on my back, staring at the sky. I turned my head and saw someone crawl to me on hands and knees, awkwardly, because of a snowboard strapped to one leg.
“Are you okay?” It was Tate, on my other side, helping me sit up.
“I’m fine,” I was laughing now, finally getting my wind back.
“All good.”
“I thought I’d killed you!” The woman pulled off her hat and glasses and grabbed my hands. She was middle-aged, probably as old as my mother, and kept saying over and over again how sorry she was. Her husband came running down. “Are you all right?” He asked me. Only then did he look at his wife. “Lordy lord, Steph, didn’t I say go left, go left! You kept going right!”
“I know!” she wailed. “I don’t know why!”
“It’s coz you’re always mixing up your left and right!”
“I know, I know!” she was crying uncontrollably and the husband came to hug her. “It’s okay, hon. You’re okay, she’s okay, we’re all okay, right?”
“I’m okay,” I confirmed with a smile.
“You tried, hon, that’s the best any of us can do right?”
“So can I stop trying now?” she asked him.
“Well,” he said. “If you’re fine with it. This was your idea remember? I said let’s go fishing in Florida but no, you were all about the skiing. Remember?”
“I remember,” she said miserably. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Trying to do this at my age! I almost killed someone!”
I was laughing now, the whole situation struck me as very funny.
“You’re reallyokay?” she looked at me with deep concern as if she thought I was lying to her and secretly bleeding to death.
I started laughing and then she and her husband started laughing too.
“It’s really fine, you guys, honest.”
We went back to our chalet for a warm bath, red wine and some careful, slow sex that didn’t involve my knees or elbows or any action around my butt area.
That evening, after a candlelit dinner set up in our own private dining area, we moved to the cozy fireplace where pillows and throws made a very comfy little sitting area. Tate and I cuddled together on the sofa.
“Are you okay, because I’m okay,” Tate said, mimicking the couple from the ski slope.
We laughed again.
“Do you think we’re going to be like that when we’re fifty?” I asked him. “Still going to do fun things, trying out new stuff?”
“I hope so,” Tate said, suddenly serious.
“I have the best time with you.”
“Me too,” I said, leaning forward to kiss him.
“Will you marry me?” he suddenly asked.
“What?” I wasn’t expecting this.
“I want you by my side when I’m fifty, I want to be that couple, laughing and rolling around in the snow, loving each other no matter what.”
“Me too,” I said. “Of course I’ll marry you.”
