Look Again - Lisa Scottoline [49]
“He’s a big boy!” Will craned his neck.
“He sure is.” Ellen shut off the ignition, and the teenager slid the toboggan onto his head, where he struggled to balance it. The other teenagers hooted when it dipped like a seesaw.
“He’s gonna drop it! Watch out!” Will squealed with delight. “Mommy, what is that thing on him?”
“It’s called a toboggan. It’s like our saucer.” Ellen put on her sunglasses and gloves. “It goes down the hill.”
“Why doesn’t he have a saucer?”
“He must like a toboggan better.”
“Why don’t we have it?”
“Someday we will, if you want one. Now, let’s rock.” Ellen got out of the car, went around to his side, and freed Will from his car seat. He reached for her with his fingers outstretched, then wrapped his arms around her neck when she held him.
“I love you, Mommy.”
“I love you, too, sweetie.” Ellen set him down and took his hand, then went to the trunk and got the saucer. Laughter and shouting came from the hill on the other side of the road, the sound echoing in the cold, crisp air, and she and Will walked through the plowed parking lot, rock salt crunching under their boots. The teenage boys crossed the street ahead of them, but there was such a crowd on the other side that Ellen couldn’t see the hill.
“Isn’t this fun, Will?” Ellen held Will’s hand as they crossed.
“So many people!”
“That’s because they know it’s a good place to sled.” Ellen surveyed the view beyond the crowd, a gorgeous vista of snowy evergreens, stone houses, and horse farms surrounding the park. The sky was a cloudless blue, and the sun pale gold, and distant. “Isn’t this pretty?”
“Very pretty,” he answered agreeably, but Ellen realized he couldn’t see anything for the kids in front of him, so she picked him up.
“How’s that? Better?”
“Oooh! Pretty!”
“Here we go!” Ellen dragged the saucer by its rope and threaded her way through the crowd, noticing that they were older than she’d expected, high school and even college kids in Villanova hoodies. She and Will reached the front of the crowd and looked out over the hill, and Ellen hid her dismay. The hill was much steeper than she remembered it, if it was even the same hill. It dropped off as steeply as an intermediate ski slope, and the snow had been packed hard by the sledding, so its surface glistened, icy-hard.
“Mom, whoa!” Will shouted, blinking. “This is so BIG!”
“I’ll say.” Ellen watched with concern as the teenagers shot down the hill on sleds, toboggans, and inflatable rafts, laughing and screaming. Two rafts collided on a mogul, and boys popped out and went skidding downhill. It looked dangerous. “This is kind of big for us, honey.”
“No, Mom, we can do it!” Will wiggled in her arms.
“I’m not so sure.” Ellen was jostled by a snowboarder, who shouted an apology before he launched himself down the hill. She scanned the slope for younger children, but didn’t see a one. She wanted to kick herself. They could have been having fun at Shortridge, but she had dragged him to Mount Everest.
“Now, Mom, put me down!”
“Okay, but hold my hand and let’s move over, out of the way.” Ellen set him down, and they moved aside. The hill didn’t get less steep at the edge, but the crowd lessened. A brutal wind bit her cheeks, and her toes were already freezing. She looked ahead to a tree line of evergreens and scrub pines, and beyond them was a slope that was gentler, with only a few teenagers. “Wait, I think I see a better place for us.”
“Why can’t we sled here?”
“Because it’s better there. Hold on to my hand.”
Will ignored her and bolted ahead, along the icy crest.
“No, Will!” Ellen shouted, lunging forward and catching him by the snowsuit. “Don’t do that! It’s dangerous!”
“Mommy, I can do it! You said! I can do it!”
“No, we’re going down the hill over there, so please be patient.”
“I am PATIENT!” he yelled, and a group of teenagers burst into laughter. Will looked over, wounded, and Ellen felt terrible for him.
“Come here, sweetie.