The Spot

We drove up the snowy, windy road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. Everything is still and silent, save for the rush of our tires against the wet asphalt. Towering pine trees on either side of the road lean down to form an archway and the setting sun twinkles through the icicles clinging to their branches. We left civilization behind twenty miles ago at that little gas station, our last chance for fuel and food.

Logan pulls the car to a stop in the cabin’s driveway. As always, she’s a bit heavy on the brake, bringing me to a jerking halt against my seatbelt. I roll my eyes at her and she makes a face in response before hopping out of the driver’s seat. I dig the seatbelt out of my collarbone and follow her out into the frigid air.

“How’re you feeling?” I ask with a mean little grin.

“My ass is asleep,” she grumbles as she wrangles her suitcase out of the backseat.

I grab my duffel bag and toss it over my shoulder with a chuckle. “All we had to do was bring the Audi and I would’ve driven us up here.”

Her suitcase pops free, sending her staggering back, and she glares at me like it’s my fault. “Ripley, it’s too low to the ground. We would’ve flooded the engine getting into that gas station back there!”

I roll my eyes again then turn to look at the cabin. “Nice place. Leah had the right idea.”

“Yeah,” Logan agrees with a sigh. “Well, let’s get in there and break out some of her booze. Caramel hot choccy?”

“That’s a whole vibe.”

She shoves a key into the doorknob and twists. The door creaks open and I take a step inside. “Wow. This is amazing.”

“Yeah,” Logan breathes, pushing me further into the cabin and closing the door before setting her suitcase down. “When she said cozy, she really meant it. Are there enough bedrooms?”

“We’ll be fine.”

She has a point, though. Apparently cozy also equals tiny. An open floor plan with the living room planted squarely in front of the foyer. A well worn brown couch behind a coffee table faces a battered fireplace that takes up a prominent place at the very center. The kitchen is behind the fireplace, a tiny thing with an old stove and a fridge that mutters to itself as it runs. Plenty of plaid blankets, framed pictures of mountain landscapes, and an overall aura of rustic wilderness living.

I glance at the staircase that leads up to the second floor. “Give me your suitcase,” I tell Logan, holding out my hand. “You do the drinks, I’ll take the bags upstairs.”

She drops the suitcase handle into my palm. I like to think of myself as fairly strong but the weight of it nearly pulls my shoulder out of its socket. “My God, woman!” I exclaim. “What did you bring?”

She rolls her eyes at me as she heads into the kitchen. “A few outfits, just in case.”

“In case of what? The apocalypse?”

She opens a cupboard and pulls out two mugs. “Shift it, powerlifter. I’ll have drinks ready in a minute.”

“I’m going,” I mutter.

The staircase leads me straight into a short hallway. Three rooms, two bedrooms and a full bathroom. I go past the bathroom and toss Logan’s suitcase on the bed in the larger room on the right. A queen bed covered by a plain grey comforter. She’ll need the room. She may be lanky bordering on skinny but she sleeps like a hurricane. Pointy elbows and sharp toes all over the place.

I open the door to the second bedroom. A woman sits up in the bed, her dark brown hair tousled and sharp brown eyes puffy from sleep. A freckled face with a shit eating grin and a pert nose. She’s between Logan and I at five foot five, smack between my five foot one and Logan’s five foot nine. More muscular than Logan but slimmer than me. We all bear the echo of our mother's face. Narrow on Leah, square on Logan, round on me.

“Rip!" Leah cries. "You're here!"

I set my duffel down next to the door and hold my arms out as she comes toward me. “Yeah, finally.”

She wraps me in a hug and I imagine that I can feel my ribs creak beneath the strain. “I missed you guys!”

“We missed you, too,” I tell her. “We’re going to drink downstairs for a little while.”

Leah lets go and jumps back into the bed. “Go on. Have some drinks for me.”

“Alright.” I turn to go then look back. “We’ll talk later?”

“I’ll be here,” she replies, pulling the blankets up to her chin.

She rolls over and I close the bedroom door. The smell of hot chocolate drifts through the air as I thump back down the stairs. Logan leans over the fireplace, drink in one hand and a lighter in the other. There’s a whoosh of fire as the tinder ignites and she steps back with a satisfied nod. She slams the fireplace door shut then looks up as I drop down onto the landing.

“Here,” she says, grabbing a mug off the coffee table and handing it over. “This is yours.”

I take a sip of the steaming liquid then wince. “A little heavy handed with the vodka, huh?”

“Yeah, I thought the caramel flavoring would hide the taste but I guess I was wrong.” She flops down onto the couch then glances around the room. “No television.”

“Leah’s not a big T.V. girl.”

Logan snorts. “Remember that big old tube T.V. she had in North Carolina? Not a single thought toward getting a flat screen.”

“No consoles, no streaming services, nothing but cable and a few DVD’s,” I add as I drop down onto the couch beside her. "Like a cave woman.”

We pass an hour away in drinks and idle chatter. A few stories about Leah, embarrassing moments and fun times. The sun is long gone by the time I drain my fourth drink and stand up with a grunt.

“Alright,” I tell her, putting the mug in the sink. “I’m off to bed.”

“Yeah, me too. We'll find the spot tomorrow?”

“That's the plan.”

***

I wake up with a little bit of a headache. Thirty-four is apparently the cut off age for waking up hangover free. Fresh mountain air will set me right, though, so I hurry through my morning routine. Brush my teeth, throw my long brown hair into a messy bun. Examine my sun deprived, round face for imperfections then turn away with the usual grimace to dig my clothes out of the duffel bag. Leggings, tank top, snow pants, sweater, thick socks. Everything I need to stay warm and dry.

Leah is still dead asleep on the bed. I nudge her until she rolls over with a groan. “We’re heading out,” I tell her as she glares up at me.

“Alright,” she says around a jaw cracking yawn.

“Will you help me find the spot?”

“Yeah, dude, I’ll be there.”

I can hear Logan moving around downstairs. I back away from Leah and grab my coat out of the duffel before heading back to the first floor. Logan looks annoyingly perky as she pours steaming coffee into two travel mugs in the kitchen. She makes her puffy winter gear look fashionable somehow, as though she's about to stalk down a runway. I have too much bulky muscle to look good in anything besides workout clothes.

“Here,” Logan says, popping the lids onto the mugs and sliding one my way. “How’d you sleep?”

“Eh, not too bad, not too good. You?”

“Like a damn rock. Ready to go?”

“Yeah, whenever you are.”

We carry the coffee out to the car. Logan starts it up and we rattle back down the driveway toward the nearby ski lodge. The bright winter sun has begun to melt the icicles on the pine trees and we catch a few spatters of runny ice on the windshield. A massive mountain rises up in front of us, its peak soaring into the sky. I lean forward to gaze up at it with an equal mixture of fear and excitement. Logan pulls into the almost empty parking lot and we gather up our gear before hurrying inside.

“I’m a little nervous,” I tell Logan as we sit down to pull on our boots. “I haven’t been skiing since I was eight.”

“I’ll be there,” she assures me. “I’ll stick with you till you get the hang of it.”

We make our way out of the lodge toward the lift. It’s hard to navigate in the boots and even worse once I put on the helmet Logan insisted I buy. No more head injuries for me, I guess. It’s just as well. Four years of combat deployments equals a lot of brain cells lost to explosions and gunfire and concussions. I need everything I have left and I'm going to fall more than once today.

In fact, by the time we take a midday break, I’ve fallen at least once in all four of my runs. Luckily, the alcohol hides the pain and gives me the illusion of warmth, so I’m eager to go when Logan finishes her last drink. We head back out to the slope and take off again. Every run gives me a bit more confidence and, once, I even make it to the bottom without falling.

We slide off the lift chair one last time. It's as exhilarating as it is terrifying. Cold wind slices past my helmet and fresh snow flies out from behind my skis. I tuck my poles under my arms, let gravity take drag me down the side of the mountain. Logan laughs as I take off ahead of her, putting a good distance between us. Maybe I'm getting the hang of this.

Just as I have the thought, I catch sight of a little kid snowplowing across the slope. They’re not paying attention, too busy staring at the front of their skis, and I pull hard to the right. My momentum sends me zipping off toward the tree line and I lose my balance. Snow meets my face with a hard thump and one of my skis pops off as I roll across the ground in an undignified tangle of arms and legs. I slam into a tree trunk gut first, grab hold of it with both hands to bring myself to a halt.

It takes a second to remember how to breathe. I roll over onto my back to stare up at the clear blue sky. Leah leans over me and pulls down the cloth of her face mask to laugh. That annoying little noise that’s more donkey bray than any sound a human should be able to make but that always manages to make me laugh, too.

“What’re you doing down there?” Leah asks through giggles.

“Thought I'd take a nap.” I sit up with my back against the tree and look around for my lost ski. “Where the hell have you been, anyway?”

She gives me a smile and it looks a little sad. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

My ski is a few feet away and I hop toward it, slam my boot back into place. “Is this the spot?” I ask her and my chest tightens with sudden pain.

“It’s close.” She turns away, heading further into the trees. “Come on.”

I follow her through the trees, waddling awkwardly in the skis. We come out onto an outcropping just outside the limits of the ski slope. We’re about halfway down the mountain, looking out over the lodge and the distant town. It’s an amazing view. The setting sun twinkles off of snowy rooftops and the darkening sky softens everything around the edges. It’s picturesque, so ethereal and perfect that I almost feel like I’m dreaming.

“It’s amazing,” I whisper through throat tight with tears. “Is this the spot?”

Leah lets out a long sigh. “Are you taking care of my Audi?”

“I am. Regular check ups and I drive very carefully.”

“Don’t be afraid to open her up every once in a while. She likes to go fast. How’re Mom and Logan?”

“Logan’s fine. Doing well in school. Mom is…well, she’s been particularly needy ever since…”

Leah lets out a little laugh. “Sorry about that. I know you and Logan aren’t the best at emotional stuff.”

“None of us are.” I have to pause for a moment, take a deep breath. “Is this the spot?”

Leah turns her face to the sun. “It is. Where’s Logan?”

“Bound to be on her way any minute.”

“I’m so happy we came here.”

I look over at her and the first tear escapes my eye. “I’m sorry I’m a year late.”

She snorts. “Don’t be sorry. I’m the one that left."

"I always thought I'd be the first to go, you know. I thought I'd get wiped out in the sand on some deployment."

"Trust me, no one was more surprised than I was. Would never have expected that, not in a million years."

We stand in silence for a few long moments. I know Logan’s probably back there looking for me, following the trail of smooshed snow from my wipe out. I should call out to her but I don't. This is nice, this quiet moment of peace. Soon I’ll deploy again and see if I can survive Iraq a second time. Logan will go back to school, buried beneath mountains of homework. But it all feels so distant right now.

“You’ll be fine, you know,” Leah says, breaking the silence. “I don’t want you to be sad. I mean, obviously, be sad, because I’m amazing, but don’t let it get bad again.”

I smile through my tears. “I’ll try.”

She puts a hand on my arm, a calming gesture that I can’t even feel. “This is where you leave me, Rip.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. “I know.”

“Who're you talking to?”

The voice comes from behind me. I don’t turn around, though. I don’t want to lose the illusion, the daydream of having her right here beside me. My little sister, the middle child, the constant instigator who’d been my best friend for years. The one who never judged or doubted, the mirror of the woman I’d been at her age. Wild and careless and a little stupid at times but always with good intentions.

“Leah,” I answer at last as Logan comes up to stand beside me.

“Ah.” She blows out a breath and it steams in the cold air. “Is this the spot?”

“Yeah.”

Logan rummages around in her pocket and pulls out a large baggy. “You think it’s disrespectful to carry her around in a freezer bag?”

“Nah, I think she’d laugh about it. I’m glad you carried her, though. I wiped out pretty good back there.”

“I saw! Hit a tree, huh?”

“Yep.” I put a hand to my ribs and wince. “I can already feel the bruises.”

Logan shuffles forward. “This is a good spot. She would’ve loved it.”

The tears come all at once, pouring down my cheeks. “She wanted to come here. We’d planned a whole week long ski trip for her birthday. We were supposed to leave in two weeks and then…”

“I know.” Logan puts a hand on my shoulder. “Are you ready?”

She holds out the bag. I stare down into the ashes, the empty remains of the shell that had once held the beautiful, vibrant soul of my little sister. Her legs that could run for miles and never tire, her arms that were always in motion, her quick smile and sharp wit. I’ll never see her again. Never hear her voice or her laugh, never be able to call her to vent or gossip. The pain of it, the soul shattering grief, is almost unbearable, even after an entire year.

I put my hand on the bag. We lift it together and the wind picks up as we turn it, spilling her over the edge of the outcropping. Ashes float through the air, twinkling in the sunlight before disappearing into nothingness. Let her wild bones dance in the wind, send her hungry eyes into the sky where she can see everything all at once all the time. It’s what she would have wanted.

I don’t know how much time passes. Long enough for my tears to dry up and for the cold to make its way through my clothes. I’m grateful that Logan is here. Of the three of us, she's the youngest, only a year younger than Leah. But Logan had been unable to reconcile her cautious, exacting nature with Leah’s reckless behavior. I know they still loved each other, though. They were still sisters.

Logan claps my shoulder. “You know what Leah would want us to do? Go back down to the cabin and get ripped.”

I let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

Logan pushes me into motion. “Come on. We'll drink and tell stories about her until we pass out. A right proper send off."

Logan heads off, managing to look graceful even in her skis. I follow her until I can see the slope and then I turn to get one last glimpse of the outcropping. A perfect view from a perfect mountain overlooking a perfect little town. She loved everything about winter. The cold, the sports, the drinks. She’ll be happy here.

“Ripley!” Logan calls as she turns her skis toward the bottom of the mountain. “Come on!”

I picture her standing on the outcropping. She’s smiling at me, waving goodbye, her long brown hair flowing in the wind. I wave back and the knot in my chest loosens. “Happy thirtieth birthday, Leah. I love you.”