"Seeing as this is our first date," Dane said, "wasn't I supposed to pull out your chair? Damn, I did it wrong." He took a sip of his Tsingtao beer.
"Dane, we're sitting in a booth."
"I guess I get a pass on that, then." He winked.
Willow helped herself to a dumpling. "So, was Coach ready to send out a search party last night? You went missing for more than twelve hours."
"Are you kidding? Coach was tap dancing around the apartment, happy to be alone. He's had to put up with my sorry ass … " he shook his head. "I've been a miserable jerk."
"You've had quite a lot happen to you."
"I know." He looked sheepish. "Coach wants me to see someone." He made his fingers into quotation marks. "But I don't know what a doctor could do for me."
Willow put down her fork. "Well … the doctor's job is to listen-to be that person you can tell all the scary stuff in your head. So you don't try to pour it out on your family, or your coach or … "
" … Your girlfriend," Dane supplied. He took a very deep breath. "Okay, that makes a certain amount of sense."
"The other thing they'd do … " She looked into his very blue eyes. "You've had a traumatic experience. And it lasted years, and that affects your thinking. Remember, in the Jeep, you said, ‘Let's compare crappy things that happened today?'"
He nodded.
"Well, you've been playing that game in your head your whole life, right? And you win every round?"
Another nod.
"If you want to join the human race, you have to figure out how to stop winning."
He looked down at his plate.
"The goal is to get to a place where you can hear a friend say, like, ‘Oh man, I have a splinter in my left butt cheek.' And you can say, ‘Dude, that's terrible!' Only, you'll mean it."
His face cracked into a smile, even though he looked sad.
She threw up her hands. "Sorry. I didn't mean to go all clinical on you. But that's what a shrink is supposed to do."
He cleared his throat. "You're really good, aren't you?"
"What do you mean?"
"You're an excellent psychologist."
She shook her head. "I might be, if I ever get the chance."
"I'd really like to see that," Dane said. He helped himself to some General Tso's chicken "So-how would that work? What do you need to do to finish your degree?"
"I've been thinking about it a lot," she said. "I'd need to reconnect with my thesis adviser first. I'd finish the writing, which is actually the easiest part. But then I'd need to do a clinical internship, and there's where it gets tricky. Because I'd need to be in a city with a teaching hospital that takes on grad students in their child psych clinics."
He looked thoughtful. "It doesn't sound impossible."
"It doesn't sound easy."
"What if I could help you?"
She looked up. "How?"
"With money for starters. I never spent my money on anything other than Finn's nursing care."
"He was so lucky to have you," she said softly. "I'm sorry I'll never meet him."
"I'm sorry, too."
"I appreciate your offer to help, but I'm not sure it's practical. It's a pretty deep hole I've got myself in, here. Just to get out of Vermont is going to cost me plenty-to sell the house, to set myself up somewhere I can finish my program. I feel overwhelmed just thinking about it."
"How far underwater are you? If you don't mind my asking."
She caught a piece of broccoli with her chopsticks. "After I pay a realtor's fee, probably thirty or forty thousand dollars. God, it's so embarrassing. At least I don't have any other debt."
"Willow, that's not so bad. The Olympics are eleven months away. It will be my biggest earning year yet."
"Why is that?"
He set down his beer bottle. "You know there's money in this game, right?"
"Do you mean athletes on cereal boxes?" Willow shrugged.
Dane smiled, his whole face lighting up. "I love this about you."
"What?"
"That you aren't part of this circus, that you aren't interested in me just because of all this crap."
"Which crap?"
Dane showed her the label on his jacket. "These guys pay me seventy-thousand dollars a year to wear their stuff."
Willow felt her jaw drop.
"Then there's the money the equipment manufacturers pay, and a commercial here or there for watches or jeans or a sports drink. It adds up fast, at least for the guys who make it onto the podium regularly. The sport still has plenty of ski bums, just trying to pay the freight for hauling ass around the world for races." He squeezed her hand. "I used to be one of those. Before I started winning."
"I'd still like you as a ski bum," she blurted out. Those blue eyes and that curly hair … Even now she found it difficult not to stare.
He took a sip of his beer, his eyes still smiling at her. "I know you would. But the money just sits there in the bank. I don't mean to be depressing, but I thought I was saving up for my own nursing home. And now I get to spend it on you and the baby instead. If I'm really lucky, I'll get to do that in person."
Her heart quivered. The last twenty-four hours with Dane had been great. But there were still so many difficulties.
"Sweet thing, look at me for a second?"
She raised her eyes.
"I know it's supposed to be me who's the poster child for getting one's shit together. But you've had a hard time, too. You're looking at some big changes. And I want you to know that I get that."
Willow felt her eyes mist. "There's a lot to figure out. And I know you have the Olympics coming up. You don't need the distraction."
He reached for her hand. "Three months ago, the Olympics seemed like the most important thing in the world," Dane said. "But really, it's just another handful of races. I know next year is going to be crazy. But it could be a good kind of crazy. You told me, breathe in, breathe out, repeat. So that's my strategy. Maybe it should be yours, too."
She toyed with the food on her plate. "But the baby will show up whether I'm ready or not."
"And that's why I want to help. Although, I'm not sure you're ready to make big plans with me. Are you?"
She avoided his eyes with a tiny shake of her head. "I always give my heart away too fast. I just hand it right over. And then I'm shocked when things don't work out. I'm trying hard not to do that again."
Dane rubbed her knuckles with his thumb. "You need some time, and I won't push you. But I wonder if you could take a few days off from work, about two weeks from now?"
"Probably. Why?"
"The U.S. National Championships are coming up-the last big downhill event of the season. It's in California. Let's go watch. You could see what I do."
Willow sat back in her seat, surprised. Could she do that? Dane had an entire life that was foreign to her. But in the midst of trying to figure out her life, flaking off to California wasn't really on the schedule. But when was the last time she had a vacation? Two years ago? Three? "I'd have to get someone to feed The Girls," she mused.
"I think Travis owes you a favor."
She tried not to flinch at the suggestion. "Well … I'd have to ask someone other than Travis."
Dane's eyebrows shot up. "Uh-oh. What happened?"
"We're still friends. But he wanted to be more than friends, and I didn't. I told myself it was because I was pregnant, and he wouldn't want to deal with it. But the truth was, I just didn't see myself with him. And I was still hung up on you." She palmed her forehead. "Even though you weren't speaking to me."
"I'm sorry," he said quickly.
"I know that," she whispered. It was her turn to reach across the table for his hand. "I'll get someone else to help me. I want to go to California."
His face lit up. "Awesome! I'll look at plane tickets tomorrow. And hotels. This will be fun."
The waitress slid their check onto the table, and Willow reached for her purse. But Dane grabbed the slip. "You don't get to pay," he said. "Ever."
She paused, her hand on her wallet. "Why not?"
He sighed. "Because you already did."
They went out into the night together, taking their time strolling back to the car. The snowstorm had brought one last burst of tourists into town for the final week of good skiing that season. She and Dane were just one couple in the stream of happy faces on Main Street.