Look Again - Lisa Scottoline [50]
“Let’s go, Mommy!”
“Okay, we’ll go together.”
“No! I wanna do it by myself!”
“Not here, pal.”
“Why can’t I go by myself?” “It’s better if I go with you.” Ellen placed the saucer on the ground and plopped into it cross-legged, yanking her coat under her butt. Wind whipped across the hill, and she pushed up her sunglasses as Will climbed onto the saucer and stuffed himself into her lap. She wrapped her arms around him like a seat belt, steeling herself. “We can do this.”
“Go, Mommy, go! Like him!” Will was looking at another snow-boarder in a red fleece dragon hat, about to go down the hill.
“Hold on to my arms, tight as you can. Keep your legs inside.” Ellen gritted her teeth and paddled to give them a running start, setting the saucer sliding down the hill. “Ready, set, go!”
“Whooooo!” Will shouted, then Ellen started shouting too, holding him as tightly as she could until the saucer started spinning. All she could do was yell and hang on to him, watching the world fly by in a blur of snow, sky, trees, and people, completely out of control. Ellen prayed for the ride to be over and clung to Will as he screamed, and finally the saucer slowed toward the bottom of the hill, where they and the snowboarder hit a hard bump that jarred them all loose and sent them sliding downhill.
“NO!” Ellen shouted, as Will pinwheeled past her on his back, and when she finally stopped herself, she jumped to her feet and straggled down the hill after him.
“WILL!” she screamed, on the run. She reached him and fell to the ground beside him, but he was laughing so hard that he couldn’t catch his breath, his smile as broad as his face, his arms and legs flat against the snow, like a starfish on the sea floor.
“Way to go, dude!” The snowboarder clapped his gloves together, and Will squealed.
“I wanna do it again, Mommy!”
Ellen almost cried with relief, and the snowboarder eyed her warily from under his dragon hat.
“Lady,” he said. “You need to calm down. Seriously.”
Chapter Thirty-seven
Ellen trudged along the top of the hill carrying Will, who was crying and hollering in a full-blown tantrum. Teenagers hid their smiles as they passed, one young girl covered her ears with her mittens, and another looked over in annoyance. Ellen had long ago stopped being embarrassed by temper tantrums. She flipped it and wore it like a badge of honor. A temper tantrum was a sign that a mom said no when it counted.
“I want to . . . go again!” Will sobbed, tears staining his cheeks, snot running freely from his nose. “Again!”
“Will, try to calm down, honey.” Ellen’s head pounded at his screaming, and teenagers packed the hill, shouting and laughing, adding to the din. She sidestepped to avoid two older boys shoving each other, and she accidentally dropped the rope to the saucer.
“Mommy! Please! I want . . . to!”
“Oh no!” Ellen yelped, turning around, but before she could catch the saucer, it went spinning down the icy slope. She had no choice but to let it go. She needed to get both of them home and down for naps.
“I can . . . do it myself!” Will wailed.
“Please, honey, settle down. Everything’s going to be all right.” She finally reached the car, where she stuffed Will into his car seat, jumped behind the steering wheel, and pulled out of the parking lot with his crying reverberating in her ears.
“I . . . can, Mommy! I wanna go again!”
“It’s too dangerous, honey. We can’t.”
“Again! Again!”
Ellen left Valley Forge Park, looking for the route back into the city. Traffic was congested because the Friday rush hour was beginning early, due to the snow. She slowed through the intersection, trying to read the route signs, which were confusing. Routes 202 and 411 were so close to each other, and horns honked behind her.
“I want to do it . . . again!” Will cried. “We only went one time!”
“We’ll go home, and I’ll make some hot chocolate.