Freestyle with Avery (4 page)

I loved that everyone in Telluride expected me to enter the competition. “I’m super psyched!” I said. “It’s going to be shred-tastic.”

“How’s Bah-ston?” came a low voice from behind me. I turned around to see Charlie, a gondola operator at one of the stations in Telluride. His skin was permanently suntanned and leathery from being in the sun every day.

I tried to keep a straight face when I answered him. People who don’t live in Boston just can’t do the accent, but it was so funny to hear them try. “Boston’s cool, Charlie. Not enough snow yet for shredding, though, that’s for sure.”

As usual, Robbie, the owner of Fat Alley, was there working the grill. When he saw us, he walked around the counter to give me a big hug. He smelled like grease and ketchup. “You ready for a Fat Alley special?” he asked.

“So ready.” I hopped onto a spinning stool at the counter. When we were little, Scott and I used to spin around and around until we got so dizzy that we could barely stay on. It was a game that Dad wasn’t crazy about. “Robbie, can you make mine a double cheeseburger with cheddar and bacon, please?” Dad called.

“You got it!” Robbie went back to the grill and waved his spatula. “And for you, Ave?”

“Burger with lettuce and tomato!” Dad nudged my foot with his and I added,
“Please.”

The waitress, Bonnie, walked over with three mugs on her tray. Bonnie was about my mom’s age, maybe a little younger. She had short brown hair and always wore a pink-checkered dress—the Fat Alley uniform—and a warm, friendly smile. Bonnie and my dad had moved to Telluride about the same time. “Coffee for you, Jake. And for Avery … hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, hold the whipped cream.”

I cupped my hands around the warm mug and breathed in the rich chocolate. “Mmm, mmm! Thanks, Bonnie. Do you know the drinks of like, everyone in the state of Colorado?”

Bonnie rolled her eyes. “Oh, goodness no! Only in San Miguel County.” She poked Dad in the elbow. “So Jake, where is Andie, huh? I have her green tea here.”

Dad’s coffee must have gone down the wrong pipe, because he started coughing …
a lot.

“She’s closing up,” I answered for him. “Andie’s the lady I met at the store, right, Dad?”

Dad gulped his water. “Uh, yeah, Avery. So I guess no tea tonight, Bonnie. Thanks though.”

Bonnie looked at Dad and me. “I better go finish up with … stuff,” she said and bustled off.

“Weird. Why would Bonnie make tea if Andie isn’t even here?” I asked Dad, then whispered, “Maybe she’s getting a little, you know,
loco-loco …
?
”

Dad shifted in his seat and stared into his mug. He was being so weird! I decided it was to time to tell him the gig was up about his “surprise” party for me.

“Okay, Dad, what’s up? Is this about my surprise party?”

“Surprise party?” asked Dad.

“Dad,
I’ve already figured it all out. I heard you talking to Andie at the store … c’mon … she and Kazie coming over for dinner?”

Dad got a funny look on his face. He took a sip of coffee and played with his spoon. “Avery, there’s no surprise party. It really is just Andie and Kazie coming over for dinner … a dinner party.”

The excited smile slipped off my face, but I tried my very best to keep smiling, so Dad wouldn’t know I was a teeny-tiny bit disappointed. (And a teeny-tiny bit embarrassed, too.) “Well don’t you think we should invite Robbie and Bonnie and Kimberly? Ooh, and what about the other people who work at ATS? I mean, if we’re having a dinner party and all?”

Dad sat up and looked me straight in the eye. “I need to talk to you about something. I’ve been
meaning
to talk to you, but I wanted to wait until you were here … in person. Avery, Andie isn’t just the manager of my store.” Dad took a deep breath. “Andie is the woman I’m seeing.”

It took a moment for this news to sink in. “You mean, like, your
girlfriend
?” I said the word slowly. Hearing it sounded just as strange as saying it.

“I—I’ve been seeing Andie for some time, Avery. I like her a lot … and I hope that you’ll like her too,” Dad explained. I looked over at Tommy and Kimberly cuddling in their booth and suddenly pictured Dad and Andie doing the same thing.
WEIRD TO THE MAX.

“Her daughter Kazie’s a great boarder, just like you. I have a feeling you two will be best friends in no time,” he added. I remembered the BSG and secretly thought,
I’m not really looking for any more best friends.

“Does Mom know about Andie? Do Tim and Scott?”

Dad made an “iffy” face. “Well … I’ve told Mom, and she’s totally fine with it. She said if I liked Andie, she was sure Andie was a nice person. But Tim and Scott don’t know yet. Do you think I should tell them over the phone?”

I shrugged. “Whatever. If you want.” How was I
supposed to know how to tell them? Was there a rule for this type of thing? Maybe he had to tell us because he wanted Andie to stick around for a long time.
How
long was the question. “So are you two going to get married or what?” I asked him.

Dad spewed coffee out of his mouth and all over the counter. He coughed and wiped himself off. “Avery, I’ve only been dating her for three months.”

“So then you’re
not.
”

“Avery …” Dad was usually kind of a chatterbox like me. It was strange to see him like this … not really knowing what to say. Well that was okay. I didn’t really know what to say either.

“Avery, I have no idea what the future will be. I like spending time with Andie. She’s nice and fun to be with. Plus Kazie’s a great kid. She works at the store on the weekends.”
How many times is Dad going to bring up this Kazie character?
I wondered. I used to work at the store when I came to visit. Would Dad even need my help if he had Kazie around?

“Do you want to talk more about this, Ave?” asked Dad.

I looked at Dad like he was crazy. “Talk about it? Dad, the Snurfer Competition is only a few days away! Don’t you think we have much more important things to talk about? Like what kind of jumps I should do, and what time we’re going to hit the slopes tomorrow, and when I’m going to get to meet Donnie Keeler, and—”

“S’cuse me, Avery. Your burgers are all ready,” Bonnie announced, sliding two plates in front of me and Dad.

The burgers were thick and juicy on homemade sesame buns. On each of our plates were a small mountain of
potato wedges and a little bowl of coleslaw.

“This looks unbelievable, Bonnie. Another masterpiece,” Dad raved.

“Yeah, thanks,” I chimed, but instead of digging in, I just stared at the burger. For some reason, I had suddenly lost my appetite.

I was tired out by the time we got back to Dad’s. I showered, changed into my PJs, and snuggled up with Marty in my bed. Then I suddenly remembered what I’d promised my friends right before I left: an e-mail.

To: Charlotte, Katani, Maeve, Isabel

From: Avery

Subject: Hello from CO

Hey BSG! I miss you already. Telluride is a snowboarder’s heaven right now! Can’t wait to shred it up! Other big news—Dad has a new girlfriend. Totally weird. She has a 13-year-old daughter named Kazie who Dad says is an awesome snowboarder, but I’ll have to C it 2 believe it. Marty traveled like a pro, except when the plane hit turbulence. (But don’t ask him about it—don’t want to embarrass the little dude!) BTW, thank you guys tons for the presents. They rock!

TTYL,

Avery

PS—Guess who the celeb judge for the Snurfer is … give you 1 clue: THE GOLDEN EGG.

I opened my eyes to a sunlit room, rolled over, and found something gray and furry right next to my face. It took a split second for me to realize that the fur ball was Marty and to remember why Marty was in my bed. I bolted upright. I was in Telluride. It was a perfectly good boarding day. I didn’t have a second to lose!

I heard the crackling sound of bacon on the griddle. “Mmm, mmm,” I said, sniffing the air. I could smell my dad’s coffee, too. Thank goodness Dad and I were both early birds. When I looked over the upstairs railing, I spied Dad at the stove flipping banana pecan pancakes—his breakfast specialty. I tiptoed down the spiral staircase and snuck up behind him. “GOOD MORNING!” I sang loudly.

Dad jumped a little (not as much as I hoped!), but at least no pancakes went flying. “Hey there.” He pointed to me with the spatula. “Didn’t you learn your lesson after your last pancake fight with Scott?”

“Ha, ha …
never
!” I grabbed a plate holding a tall stack of pancakes.

Marty scampered downstairs and leaped onto the window seat. He nuzzled into the cushion and started people/dog watching, his nose steaming up the glass.

“I bet Marty’ll make tons of friends here in Telluride,” said Dad. “All he’s gotta do is take a walk around the block, and he’ll have himself a dog-fest.”

I drizzled a zigzag of syrup on my pancake pile. “Um, no offense, Dad, but Marty doesn’t need to make more friends. He’s got a whole dog posse back home. And a poodle girlfriend.”

“Is that a fact?”

I gulped down a mouthful of pancake. “Sure is. He’s the coolest pup in town! You miss La Fanny, Marty?” I asked.

Marty barked, but I wasn’t sure if it was a “yes” or a “holla!” to the Colorado dogs outside the window.

“Are you going to take the day off to go snowboarding with me, Dad?”

Dad sat down at the table with me. “You bet! I was thinking we’d head up to Mountain Village after breakfast. Then we’ll take the lift up and do a run down Boomerang to warm up. In the afternoon we can check out Hoot Brown Terrain Park … if you’re feeling brave enough, that is.” I smiled. I loved hearing Dad use all the Telluride lingo.

“I just need to drop off a bunch of Snurfer flyers and registration forms at the Village shops.”

“Dad?” I asked. “Do you think I could wear Scott’s old jacket this year? I’ve grown a little, so maybe it won’t
be too big for me …” Scott’s old coat was bright yellow, super warm, and awesomely cool. It would be perfect for the Snurfer.

“Sure, but you know you can get a new jacket from the store if you want.” That part of having a dad that owned a sports store was pretty cool—free gear.

“That’s okay,” I told Dad. “Scott’s coat’s already been broken in. You know, more comfortable and stuff.”

“Of course,” Dad answered with a wink. He knew that what you wore on the slopes wasn’t all about being new and high-tech. Dad’s ski-suit was legendary. He’d worn the same thing since before I was even born. It was a 1980s fluorescent blue one-piece covered with geometric shapes and patches—souvenirs from Dad’s big races and events. Even though he could get any kind of new equipment he wanted, he refused. “Why would I? This still fits me perfectly! Remember, it’s not what you wear, it’s how you tear!” The only thing he always updated was his hat. Every year he got a new Snurfman hat, crazier than the one before.

After breakfast I walked Marty around the block. He definitely didn’t have any problem with friend-making. Marty barked hello to just about every dog we passed. He sat, rolled, played dead, and tried to perform every trick in his book. “Too bad dogs can’t snowboard. I bet you’d be a natural! You have to stay home today though, Marty. But don’t worry. Just wait for me by the window and I’ll be back before you know it.”

Marty made his eyes so sad that I had to laugh. I wished he could come, but I knew the mountains were no
place for pups. As I waved good-bye to Marty later that morning, I pictured him on a doggy snowboard wearing a tiny helmet. Maybe someday …

As we drove down Main Street I was getting more and more excited. I couldn’t wait to hit the slopes. “I just need to make one quick stop at the store,” said Dad.

“Aw, man! Can we hurry?” I urged.

Dad laughed. “Once you see why we’re stopping at ATS, I think you’ll be glad we did.”

I followed Dad into the store and toward the back room. He unlocked the door to his office and there, resting on his desk, was a brand new, bright red snowboard. The letters ATS were stenciled on the top in white, lined with black. “This is for you, Ave. Only had a few made. It’s the official ATS board, reserved for sponsorship of only the best young athletes.”

Dad placed the board in my hands and I felt my spine shiver a little. “Whoa … Thanks, Dad,” I said breathlessly. “This is the best present EVER!”

I got in position on the board with my legs so far apart it looked more like I was about to ride an elephant than a snowboard. Dad frowned. “I’m going to have Ricky adjust those bindings for you,” he decided.

“That’s probably a good idea,” I laughed. I tried to fake an
ollie
, one of my favorite boarding tricks, but I felt like a Sumo wrestler with my feet spread so wide on the board. Dad called Ricky over. A guy about Tim’s age with shaggy blond hair leaned over the counter.

“Can you move these in?” I showed Ricky where I wanted my bindings. “They’re a little too big.”

Ricky chuckled. “You can say that again. So, are you a
grommet
?” he asked. I felt my cheeks grow hot. Ricky thought I was a
beginner
at snowboarding?! I tried not to look insulted. Just because I was small didn’t mean I was a grommet! “‘Cause ATS is a great place to start,” Ricky added. “Mr. M sells the best boards in town.”

Now Dad was the one to chuckle. “Ricky, this is my daughter, Avery. She lives in Boston. And … she’s been boarding for years. Avery’s twelve.”

Ricky scratched his messy hair. “Oh, sorry, Mr. M. I didn’t know you guys were related. I mean … um …”

I was adopted from Korea, so obviously I looked different than the rest of my family. People who didn’t know the Maddens sometimes didn’t get that I was the daughter. I was pretty much used to it, but still, I never really knew what to say.

Dad helped out. “That’s okay, Ricky. Avery’s going to enter the Snurfer Competition on Tuesday. She’s got a great chance of placing, too.”

“Sweet, dude. Slap me five.” Ricky bent down, held out his hand, and I gave him a good old Avery slap.

“Need anything else, Mr. M?” Ricky asked.

“Nope, we should be all set. Unless …” Dad looked at me with a twinkle in his eye.