Free High Maintenance by Jamie Hill Page B

Deidre called back and waved to her father.
    He smiled at her, rolling his eyes at Jana. He'd always been the more laid back one of the pair, never quite as concerned with appearances as his high society wife. Both her parents had dark hair, looked fit and trim, more forty- ish than the fifties they truly were. They made a handsome couple.
    She watched them leave before picking up the crime novel they'd given her. She realized, almost instantly, she couldn't concentrate on it. Setting it aside, she leafed through the magazines her sister had picked out. None of them particularly interested her. She was on vacation! It was almost New Year’s. She felt antsy, wanting to do something besides sit.
    After an elaborate family Christmas, her father had flown them all to Vail and the fabulous Crystal Cove Ski Resort. The weather was perfect. Having a marvelous time skiing, three days into the trip, Deidre became injured when a tree jumped out in front of her on Big Bear Slope. After much fussing and a trip to the first aid station, she landed in the local hospital where they determined she'd broken a bone in her lower leg.
    Instructed to use crutches for a week, she was to see a doctor once she got home and be fitted with a walking cast. The overall prognosis was six weeks in plaster.
    Deidre squirmed in her seat. What a way to end her vacation! It had been such fun too. Several cute guys skied the slopes; she had drinks with one of them the night before she'd broken her leg. They'd even discussed attending the New Year's Eve party at the lodge together.
    Now she'd be stuck with the television for company. She sighed. Another New Year’s Eve spent watching the party instead of participating.
    "How we doing out here?" Winnie stepped in front of her.
    "I'm fine." She put on a brave face, tried to hide her growing depression.
    "Get you anything? More cocoa?"
    "No thanks. It was great, though."
    "Okay, if you're sure. I'll check back with you later."
    "Thanks, Winnie." She watched the waitress go. Such a nice woman—but seven kids? Deidre shivered at the thought. She might like to have one. Possibly two, if she could keep them from bickering the way she and her sister did. Chuckling at the thought, she decided it might first help to find a man. She closed her eyes and dreamed of the possibilities.
     
    * * * *
     
    "Aunt Deidre." Someone tugged at her sweater sleeve.
    She opened her eyes to see a small, blonde-haired girl, complete with wind-chilled red nose and cheeks, watching her. "Hello, Riley. What are you doing here?" She glanced around, not seeing anyone else. "Where's your Mommy?"
    "She's skiing with Grandma and Grandpa. Daddy brought me in for a nap."
    Looking around again, she still didn’t see anyone. "Where's Daddy, then?"
    "We're getting popcorn." She held up a bowl, spilling some onto the floor.
    "Ah." She remembered somewhere behind her chair there stood a table with complimentary snacks. The large bowl of popcorn always attracted her three-year-old niece.
    "Riley, come back here," Dean Conner muttered, apparently following the child and a trail of popcorn. "Hey, Deidre. Sorry to wake you."
    "I wasn't asleep." She yawned.
    "You were snoring. Drooling, even." He made a show of wiping his chin.
    Her hand flew to her face, just in case, but it was dry. "You're evil." She glared at him, only half teasing.
    He grinned. "No, just worn out. I'm not as much of a skier as your sister and I've been chasing this one all over the place. We're going to take naps. Not sure if she'll sleep, but I know I will. See you later!"
    "Later." She shook her head. Riley had tracked popcorn from one end of the lobby to the next, and Dean seemed totally oblivious.
    The elevator doors closed behind them, and she peered around the room. "Clean up on aisle six," she called jokingly.
    The desk clerk wasn't behind the counter. After watching him sweep up small messes all morning, she knew where his broom and dustpan were. Maybe she could handle this