AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I snort.
He was perfect, of course. Even with his goggles on and his bulky clothes, he still managed to look great. And when he skied, he seemed to glide across the snow and fly down the slope. Strong and graceful.
Show off. If I wasn’t so amazed by his skiing, I would have thrown a right hook at him and sent him straight into the snow so he could have a taste of what he’s put me through.
“What I mean is that you didn’t get to experience the thrill of it,” Dax says. “When you do, you’ll keep coming back to the slope.”
“No thanks.” I fold my arms over my chest and tuck my hands near my armpits. “I’ve had enough of having my face shoved into the snow to last a lifetime.”
“And I’m saying it’s a waste to go through all that and not get to the fun part,” Dax tells me. “You know, sometimes you have to get dragged through the dirt to get to the top.”
I roll my eyes and lift a hand. “Don’t.”
The last thing I need right now is a lecture, especially from him. Plus he has no right to talk to me about hanging in there or whatever shit he’s trying to spout. He left me the first chance he got.
Dax frowns. “Since when did you become a quitter?”
I stop in my steps and gape at him in disbelief. Did he seriously just call me that?
Maybe I am a quitter. I’ve had to give up on a lot of things. But he has no right to say it to my face.
“Maybe after you left,” I tell him. “Maybe I even picked it up from you. After all, you quit on me, right?”
Dax opens his mouth. “I – ”
I narrow my eyes at him, daring him to defend himself.
He draws a deep breath and closes his mouth. Then he shrugs.
“Let’s not talk about this right now.”
He walks. I follow him silently, two steps behind. Half of me wants to continue the argument. Why should we stop talking about things that make him uncomfortable when he insists on talking about things that make me uncomfortable? Why is it that we keep talking about my only fault – my refusal to give him another chance, which isn’t a fault really? It’s my prerogative. It’s wisdom. And yet, when it comes to his, Dax doesn’t want to hear a word.
It’s unfair, but right now, I’m too tired to argue.
Just let it go, Jenna.
I calm myself down by turning my attention to the shops on either side of me. There aren’t a lot of people right now so I can see the displays. There’s a bakery. There’s a deli. I haven’t been to a deli since before Dax left. There are quaint coffee shops. There’s a shop that sells beauty products. Maybe I should get a stronger lip balm. There’s a bookstore, too, and of course, shops that sell skiing goods. And shops that sell clothes – retail outlets and charming boutiques.
I stop in front of one of the latter as a pink shrug on a toddler-sized mannequin catches my eye. It’s probably too big for Shanna right now, big enough to be a cape, but maybe in a year or two, she’ll fit right into it. I can already see her wearing it over a dress – white or yellow – with gloves on her hands and a tiara on her head. She’d look just like a little princess.
“I bet Shanna would look good in that,” Dax speaks my thoughts.
So he shares my idea. It wouldn’t be the first time. Right now, though, I find it more annoying than endearing. Besides, he has no right to bring up Shanna. Just because she didn’t cry when she was in his arms doesn’t mean he can talk about her. He doesn’t know a thing about her. I know everything.
I snort as I move on. “It’s too heavy for her. And too warm.”
“Doesn’t it get cold in Jersey?”
“Besides, Shanna doesn’t like pink,” I say.
“She already has a favorite color?” Dax asks. “I thought she could barely talk.”
“She doesn’t have to speak. She knows what she wants. She prefers blue to pink.”
“But wasn’t her blanket pink?” Dax points out.
I glance over my shoulder with narrowed eyes. He really can be so annoying.
“They didn’t have it in blue,” I say as I look forward.
“Maybe they have that shrug in blue.”
“Or maybe she doesn’t like shrugs. Like I said, they’re heavy and they don’t really keep you warm.”
“I thought you said a shrug would be too warm for her.”
I roll my eyes. See, he won’t shut up except when the topic concerns him.
“You’re fond of your niece, aren’t you?” Dax asks me.
Great. He’s still talking.
“Where are her parents?”
Really?
“Away,” I answer vaguely in a bored tone.
That’s all Dax will get, and he can’t complain. He used to give me vague answers all the time, if he gave me any answers at all.
