A Magical Christmas. Elizabeth Rolls

stayed with him and the next morning, he decided to drop Jess at school himself instead of letting her take the bus.

      She stared moodily ahead, not talking to him.

      About at his limit with moods and unwilling to play twenty questions, Tyler took the direct approach. “What’s up with you?”

      “You were mean to Brenna!”

      Genuinely astonished, Tyler glanced at her. “Mean? I’m never mean to Brenna.”

      “You were horrid. She put the crystal globe out on the shelf because she was so proud of you, and you gave her one of your cold looks.”

      Tyler, who hadn’t known he had a “cold look” felt a flash of guilt. Was that why she’d been so angry with him? Had he hurt her feelings? “I didn’t want it on the shelf.”

      “So wait until she’s gone to bed and put it back in the cupboard again. Don’t make her feel bad!”

      Tyler opened his mouth to point out that looking at the globe made him feel bad and then closed it again. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll apologize.”

      “I don’t want you to apologize to make me feel better, Dad! You need to apologize because you’re sorry.”

      “I’m sorry I upset Brenna. I’m not sorry I put that thing back in the cupboard.”

      “You won that thing! You beat everyone else down the mountain. Doesn’t it make you proud? You should be boasting about it everywhere to anyone who will listen.”

      Tyler pulled up near the school. “I don’t care what other people think.”

      “Why? I don’t get it.” Jess looked at him, puzzled and out of her depth.

      “That wasn’t why I raced. I know when I won and when I screwed up. I don’t need globes or medals to remind me. I wanted to be fastest down that mountain. That was all.”

      The only sound in the car was his breathing.

      “And you were. It’s hard, isn’t it?” Her voice was a whisper. “You always refuse to talk about it, but you hate that you can’t race anymore.”

      Tyler opened his mouth to make light of it and then remembered what Brenna had said about open communication. “Yeah, I hate it.” The words were dragged from him. “Especially on a day like today when it’s snowing. It gnaws at my insides.”

      “I wish it hadn’t happened.”

      He stared at the road, surprised to discover that his throat felt scratchy. “Yeah, me, too, but there’s no point wishing something hadn’t happened if it already has. Waste of energy.”

      “That sounds almost like grown-up advice, Dad.”

      “Does this mean I’m getting good at this parenting thing?”

      “You don’t totally suck at it.”

      “Thanks. Feedback is important for improved performance.” He glanced at her and found her looking at him.

      “You’ve never talked about it before.”

      “Just to you, honey. Let’s keep it between ourselves.”

      “Oh. S-sure, Dad.” She was stammering, her cheeks pink with pride. “I want you to know you can talk to me anytime.”

      “Thanks, sweetheart.” He wondered what it was about kids that turned a man from tough to tender in a single glance. “And you can talk to me, too.”

      Jess hunted for a grown-up response. “Life totally sucks sometimes.”

      Was that a reference to her life or his? Because he wasn’t sure, he kept his response neutral. “It totally does. Things happen. Life happens. If you can’t change it, you have to get on with it, but if there’s something that can make it easier to handle, then you do it. Hey, listen to me.” He winked at her. “That was more grown-up advice. I’m getting good at this. I’m pulling straight As in parenting.”

      “And not looking at the trophies makes it easier for you?”

      “Some.”

      Her eyes burned with love. “I’m going to lock them away where no one can ever find them. I’m going to put your gold medal in the trash.”

      The passion in her was disturbingly familiar. “No need to go that far.”

      “I’ve been wearing it.” Her eyes were huge with guilt. “I made you feel worse.”

      “Having you around only ever makes me feel better. And you know what? I think you could have a medal of your own to hang round your neck someday.”

      “You’re joking.”

      “I’m not joking. You’ve got something, Jess. We’re going to work on that something together.” He reached out to hug her and then remembered that probably wasn’t cool and pulled back. “Sorry. Forgot we were outside the school. No hugging allowed.”

      “I don’t care what any of them say. They’re jealous because you’re my dad.” The way she said it confirmed his suspicion she was having trouble at school.

      He struggled to access calm. “Do people give you a hard time over it?”

      She opened her mouth to dismiss it and then changed her mind. “Sometimes. Kids are stupid, that’s all. They’d all love to ski with you every day.”

      An ugly suspicion formed in his mind. “Jess, you came home in a mess yesterday—”

      “I slipped on the ice. I have to go. Bye, Dad.” She grabbed her bag, but he stopped her.

      “Wait. I just talked to you. You should talk to me.”

      “I do.”

      But it was obvious to him she was holding something back. “Do you want to invite someone back this weekend? Sleepover? Because you can.”

      “No, thanks. I’m going to be skiing the whole time, and we still need to buy a tree. There’s loads to do for Christmas. Talk about it later, Dad.” She was out of the car before he could stop her, walking fast through the gates of the school, head down, not talking to anyone.

      Tyler swore under his breath and fought the temptation to march in after her and demand to know what was going on. Because something was going on, he was sure of it.

      He sat back in his seat, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

      Was that why Brenna had been encouraging him to talk to her?

      Did she know something she wasn’t telling him?

      Making a mental note to ask her, he drove back to Snow Crystal. A morning spent with a group of skiers with more money than skill did nothing to improve his mood, and by the time he collected Jess from school, his temper was wearing thin. It was snowing steadily, and there were no signs of it stopping. He wondered if Brenna and Josh might decide to postpone their date or even cancel altogether.

      Jess walked out of school the way she’d walked into it, head down, avoiding eye contact, striding toward the bus. She would have walked straight past his car if he hadn’t opened the window and called to her.

      “Dad!” Startled, she glanced around her. “What are you doing here?”

      “I had to go to the store for something,” he lied, “so I thought I might as well pick you up.”

      He saw a group of mothers looking in his direction and realized he’d been blind to how having him as a father might have affected Jess. Did all these people spend their time looking him up on the internet? Were they reading the lies or, worse, feeding those lies to Jess?

      She slid into the seat next to him and raked her hair away from her face.

      “So how was today?” He’d read that parents weren’t