“You still get on the trails? And ski?” Lily asked in surprise as she began to work on Char’s hair.
“Well, sometimes, but only cross-country skiing these days. And of course I have to sneak it in now. Your mama helps me when she’s in town.”
Lily blinked and stopped what she was doing. “My mom comes to Cedar Ridge?”
“Couple times a year at least,” Char said, and frowned. “You didn’t know?”
“No.” She’d had no idea, her mom had never said a word. “We get together and get on the mountain,” Char said. “Not Cedar Ridge, though. My sons would plotz if they thought I was still cross-country skiing. We go to Eagle Mountain.”
Lily could only stare at her. One thing at a time. “But Ashley …,” she said, trailing off.
“What about her?”
“She died on the mountain.”
“Yes,” Char said softly, and squeezed Lily’s hand. “And it was awful and tragic and we all hate that it happened. And trust me, no one’s forgotten about it. But, honey, that was ten years ago. Life goes on.”
“But … how?”
Char’s voice was very gentle now. “By knowing in your gut that Ashley would want you to be happy. She’d want you to live your life, Lily, not just mourn hers.”
Lily swallowed hard. This was true. Ashley would most definitely want Lily to live her life. She’d want her to kick ass at it too. Probably she was sitting up on a cloud somewhere with a stopwatch, timing Lily on her hikes, yelling at her to do it better, go faster.
“When your mom and I walk, we always talk about her,” Char said, smiling as Lily went back to working on her hair. “About how she’s looking down at us, probably annoyed that we stop to smell the wildflowers instead of trying to see which of us is faster.”
Throat tight, Lily laughed in spite of herself. “You both still get on the trails. And ski,” she marveled.
“Well of course we do.” Char narrowed her chocolate-brown eyes, so much like her son’s that Lily found herself a little transfixed. “Why wouldn’t we?”
Lily bit her lower lip.
Char sighed. “Let me guess. My sons are still making it sound like I’m on my deathbed.”
“Well, not …all the way on your deathbed.”
“I swear, those boys … And don’t think that I don’t know it’s mostly Aidan.” She sighed. “He’s the one who saw me so fragile, so hurt …” She visibly shooed off the thought. “You know what? I think I’ve got an idea.”
Lily got a bad feeling as she met Char’s gaze in the mirror’s reflection. “Why do I feel like I should be afraid?”
“Don’t be silly. But I’m going to need you to do something for me.” This was uttered in Char’s full-on Southern accent, making her voice sound like melted butter.
Uh-oh.
“I want you to call my son in here,” Char said. “And mess with him the way he’s been messing with me.”
Yep, she’d been right to be afraid. “Which son?”
Char smiled. “Don’t make me lump you in with those idiots, honey. You know which son. The one you’re still crushing on.”
Lily felt herself go still. “I’m not—I mean—”
“Just call him. For me.” She smiled at herself in the mirror. “And oh my, look at me. You sure outdid yourself, my hair looks fabulous. You’re not calling yet.”
Oh boy. “Aidan’s not going to want to come to the salon,” Lily said, stalling.
“Well, of course not. He’s not big on anything girlie. He only gets his hair cut when his captain threatens to take the shears to him himself. And he doesn’t like to be called away from work either. It makes me worry that he’s never going to find a girl and settle down and give me grandbabies. Call him, honey. Tell him he’s won a free treatment or something.”
“But I …” Lily looked around for an excuse to further stall but couldn’t find one. “I’m pretty sure he won’t want to hear from me.”
“I think you’re wrong,” Char said with a knowing smile. “I’ve got a feeling that for you he’ll do anything, even if it affronts his precious alpha manhood.”
Lily thought about the things he’d already done for her: rescuing her keys from the convenience store, loading wood, saving her from a flat tire. And then there were all those times he’d watched out for her on the mountain years ago.
Small things, but they all added up to one big thing—he’d been there for her when she needed him, whether she’d known she needed him or not.
“Oh, and once you get him in here held captive in your chair,” Char said, “be sure to tell him I’ve decided to go into an old folks home and that he and the others can stop worrying about me. Tell him it’s in … Greece,” she said. “Yeah, that’ll mess with him. I love Greek men and their food. Be vague on when, though, cuz when is never. You know what I’m saying?”
Lily paused to take it all in. “You want me to tell your son that you’re moving to Greece,” she said in disbelief.
“Yep.”
“Char, I really don’t feel comfortable lying to him—”
“Now see, that’s the beauty of it—it’s not really lying because it could happen.” Char lifted a shoulder. “Someday. Maybe. You see?”