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The Sprawling 143

    143 A Day on the Slopes and a Careful Request


    143 A Day on the Slopes and a Careful Request


    She nodded slowly, still confused but willing toply. “I promise, Dad. Just Ms. Vance**


    When we finally reached the bottom, a resort staff member was waiting with a wheelchair. Shanice hovered nearby, concern written across her face.


    “Excellent,” I smiled, feeling disproportionately pleased by her eptance. “I’ll text you to arrange details.”


    We found afortable spot in the lodge where ra could elevate her foot while watching the slopes through therge windows. I ordered hot chocte for all of us before settling into the chair beside her.


    “My ankle,” she admitted, voice tight with pain.


    We found a table at the resort restaurant, ordering burgers and fries. Shanice’s enthusiasm returned at the mention of food, and she chattered excitedly about her morning adventures.


    “Well, don’t let me interrupt your family day,” she said with a knowing smile that irritated me. “Good seeing you, Beck.”


    I kept a careful eye on ra and Shanice as we headed back to the slopes after our short break. The morning had gone well so far, but I couldn’t shake the protective instinct that had settled over me since we arrived.


    After we said our goodbyes, with Shanice giving ra an enthusiastic hug, ra limped carefully toward the parking lot. I watched until she disappeared from view, then turned back to my now–awake daughter.


    “Of course.” I nodded, feeling an unexpected reluctance to end our day. “But before you go… would you consider joining us again? Perhaps for dinner next week?”


    ra looked at Shanice’s disappointed face and softened. “What if I take a break for an hour, then join you for a couple of gentle runs? I don’t want to ruin Shanice’s day.”


    “I’m just being cautious,” I replied. “One injury today is enough”


    “I’m perfectly capable of continuing” ra added. “The doctor said it was minor.”


    143 A Day on the Slopes and a Careful Request


    “Ms. Vance!” Shanice had turned back and now skied carefully toward us. “Are you


    hurt?”


    “Ms. Vance showed me how to do snowplow turns properly,” she informed me between bites. “My instructor never exined it that clearly.”


    “Nearly three years,” I answered, keeping my tone pleasant but distant.


    “Just twisted my ankle. I’ll be fine,” ra assured her, but when she tried to stand independently again, the pain was evident on her face.


    “She seemed to think we were…” ra trailed off, gesturing between us.


    Shanice frowned, confused. “Why not?”


    “He also said you should stay off it,” I reminded her.


    “Beck?” she called hesitantly. “Beck Donovan?”


    “I think we should call it a day,” I suggested, earning an immediate protest from both


    females.


    ra moved with natural grace beside my daughter. Her form was impable–clearly, she had significant experience on the slopes. The elegant way she navigated the


    terrain made my job of watching them both much easier.


    “Thank you,” I said finally, keeping my voice low. “For today. Shanice has had a


    wonderful time.”


    I studied her face, recognizing the determination there. “One hour minimum. And only the easiest slopes afterward.”


    “It’s just a minor twist,” ra was insisting when I caught up with them at the resort’s


    medical office.


    “Are you okay?” I asked, my voice close to her ear.


    “But we just started!” Shanice objected.


    “See? I told you,” ra said, throwing me a look that was half triumph, half annoyance.


    After a brief standoff, ra relented and allowed herself to be seated in the wheelchair.


    I gathered our discarded equipment while Shanice stayed with ra.


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    143 A Day on the Slopes and a Careful Request


    “ra Vance,” she replied. “That’s it.”


    “Thank you,” ra said, already attempting to stand.


    “She should stay off it for the remainder of the day,” the doctor continued, ignoring herment. “I’ll wrap it and provide some anti–inmmatory medication.”


    “It’splicated,” I replied, choosing my words carefully. “But it’s very important. Can you promise me that?”


    “Like her mentor,” I replied, earning a small smile from ra.


    While the doctor worked, Shanice edged closer to me. “Is Ms. Vance going to be okay?” she whispered.


    “This is ra Vance,” I said quickly, “a business associate. And my daughter, Shanice.”


    “What’s your full name?” Shanice asked ra suddenly. “Like, your whole name?”


    I tensed slightly at the question, but ra answered easily.


    “You don’t need to stay,” she said. “Go ski with Shanice.”


    “You don’t have to hover,” she said after the second incident. “I’m not made of ss.”


    “Is that the only reason?” ra asked, her direct gaze meeting mine.


    “Put your arm around my shoulder,” I instructed. When she hesitated, I added, “Please, ra. Safety first.”


    “Dad, watch this!” Shanice called, attempting a more confident turn than before.


    Once the doctor finished wrapping ra’s ankle, he handed her a small packet of pills. “Take these if the pain bothers you. Ice it tonight and elevate whenever possible.”


    The mountain was getting crowded. Weekend skiers filled the runs, many with questionable control of their movements. I positioned myself slightly behind ra and Shanice, ready to intervene if needed.


    “Looking good!” I shouted back, genuinely impressed with how quickly she was


    improving.


    I reacted instantly, pushing forward and positioning myself to break her fall. She tumbled directly into me, and I caught her weight against my chest, my poles dropping


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    143 A Day on the Slopes and a Careful Request


    to the snow as my arms wrapped around her.


    “I thought that was you!” She smiled, ncing between me, ra, and Shanice. “I almost didn’t recognize you with…” Her eyes lingered on ra and Shanice, clearly making assumptions about our rtionship.


    She started to protest, but another attempt to put weight on her foot silenced her objections. Without waiting for further discussion, I positioned myself beside her and slipped my arm around her waist.


    “Good girl,” I said, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Now, should we do one more run before heading home?”


    “People make assumptions,” I replied with a shrug. “Don’t worry about it.”


    “Heads up,” I called ahead, moving closer to ra and Shanice.


    “No middle name?” Shanice pressed.


    Shanice reluctantly agreed, settling into afortable position in her chair. Within minutes, her eyes drifted closed.


    “Ms. Vance is good at exining things,” I agreed, smiling at ra across the table.


    She reluctantlyplied, and I felt the weight of her arm settle across my shoulders. The proximity was distracting, but I focused on getting her safely off the slope.


    The doctor, a friendly older man with a weathered face, smiled knowingly as he examined her ankle. “Minor dislocation,” he confirmed after a gentle probe. “Not too serious, but you’ll need to rest it.”


    She checked her watch and sighed. “I should probably head home soon. I have some


    work to finish before Monday.”


    “When you talk about Ms. Vance to anyone–your friends, your teachers, anyone at all -just call her Ms. Vance. Don’t use her full name.”


    She nodded, trying to regain her footing. When she put weight on her right foot, she winced noticeably.


    “I can manage,” she insisted, but epted my steadying hand nheless.


    “I’ve enjoyed it too,” ra admitted. “She’s a remarkable girl. Very bright.”


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    < 143 A Day on the Slopes and a Careful Request


    I moved quickly to her side. “Easy now.”


    “Former colleague,” I rified. “From before I moved here.”


    “Shanice, ski ahead of us and alert the staff at the bottom,” I directed. My daughter nodded and moved down the slope with purpose.


    She hesitated, studying my face carefully. “I’m not sure that would be appropriate.”


    “No, I’m not tired,” Shanice protested unconvincingly, another yawn betraying her.


    “And leave you standing here alone? Not happening.” I tightened my hold slightly.


    “We’re almost there.”


    I turned toward the voice, recognizing Linda Harmon, a former colleague from Chicago.


    “You can’t ski on that,” I said firmly. “Let me help you to the lodge.”


    “I think someone’s ready for a break,” ra observed gently.


    “Why don’t you rest for a bit?” I suggested. “We can do a few more runs afterward if you’re up for it.”


    After she left, ra raised an eyebrow. “Friend of yours?”


    “Why not?” I pressed gently. “Shanice would be thrilled. And it would give us a chance to discuss her project further.”


    An hourter, true to her word, ra insisted on returning to the slopes. Her ankle was obviously still tender, but she hid her difort well as she helped Shanice practice her turns on a gentle run.


    “Time for lunch,” I announced, ignoring my daughter’s half–hearted objections.


    “Linda,” I acknowledged with a polite nod. “Nice to see you.”


    “Oh! Nice to meet you both,” Linda replied, her curious expression poorly concealed. “I haven’t seen you since you left Chicago. How long has it been?”


    “Deal,” she agreed.


    “This is ridiculous,” she muttered. “Just go get someone with a sled.”


    Beck’s POV


    21:17


    6/7.


    143 A Day on the Slopes and a Careful Request


    After lunch, Shanice’s energy dipped noticeably. She tried to stifle a yawn but failed, her eyes growing heavy.


    “What is it, Dad?”


    Outside the medical office, ra tested her weight on the wrapped ankle. She winced but maintained her bnce.


    “She’ll be fine,” I assured her. “Just a small injury.”


    A woman passed our table, ncing our way before doing a double–take. She stared at me for a moment, her brow furrowed.


    She considered this for a long moment. “Alright,” she finally agreed. “For Shanice. And because you’ve been very helpful today with my ankle.”


    “Shanice,” I said, my tone serious enough to capture her full attention. “I need you to do something important.”


    “No,” I admitted honestly. “I’ve enjoyed yourpany today. And I think you’ve enjoyed


    ours.”


    “That’s pretty,” Shanice decided before returning to her fries.


    For a moment, we stood frozen in that position–her back against my front, my arms encircling her waist. I could feel her quick breaths, the slight tremor in her body from


    the near–miss.


    “ra Catherine Vance,” ra borated with a small smile. “Though I rarely use my


    middle name.”


    I noticed a group of rowdy teenagers approaching from the side, moving too fast for the beginner area. Their loud whoops rang across the slope as they weaved recklessly between other skiers.


    Our progress was slow and awkward. Halfway down, ra’s frustration became


    apparent.


    As we headed back to the slopes, I couldn’t help ncing toward the parking lot where ra had disappeared. The secret I was keeping from her weighed heavily, but I wasn’t ready to reveal it–not when everything was just beginning to fall into ce.


    “Standard procedure, ma’am,” the staff member exined. “We need to get you to the


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    143 A Day on the Slopes and a Careful Request


    medical office for assessment.”


    Toote. One of the teens cut sharply across ra’s path. She swerved to avoid a collision but caught an edge on the packed snow. Her ski wobbled, and she began to tip sideways.


    With my daughter dozing, ra and I fell into a surprisinglyfortable silence. She sipped her coffee, asionally ncing at Shanice with a soft expression that made me wonder if she was thinking of her own daughter.


    “In a bit,” I replied, watching my daughter sip her drink contentedly. “First, I want to make sure you’re actually resting.”


    “I don’t need that,” ra protested when she saw the wheelchair.


    I stayed close, ready to assist if needed. Twice more, careless skiers came too close, and I found myself positioning my body to shield ra from potential collisions.


    By early afternoon, Shanice’s energy was gging despite her protests to the contrary. Her turns were bing sloppier, a clear sign of fatigue.


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    21:18
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