Space (Laws of Physics #2)(18)

“Yes. Sometimes twice, sometimes three times. Snow is easier to shovel if you move it within six hours of falling.”

I nodded, knowing this already. Michigan winters were why I never wanted to live someplace where daily snow shoveling in the winter was a requirement for leaving the house.

My dad would wake me up before school with a shovel in hand, saying, “God gave you those shoulders for a reason, son. And today that reason is shoveling snow.”

“Hey, we’ll clear this here together, and then you got this area?” Melvin gestured to the last few feet before the ski lift. “I’ll go get the bags and we can ride up together.”

“Bags?” I blinked as freezing flakes fell on my face near my eyes.

“Mona’s. And her friend, Alan, or All-lean, or Al-lena, or something like that. These names, I can’t pronounce them without practicing.”

Glancing away, the white cloud of my exhales following me, I studied the pile of snow near my boots. “Sure. I got it.”

“Thanks. You know, if it were just Mona, like last time, she could have taken it all up in one trip.” Melvin began shoveling again. “Never met a person who packs as light as our Mona.”

I said nothing, but that hot pulse of energy radiated outward again, pushing back, my stomach dropping, a tight band around my throat.

“She’s something else.” Melvin paired this statement with a chuckle and a headshake. “You know, she never lets Lila cook for her. Says she doesn’t want to inconvenience anyone. And she’d be out here shoveling if I’d let her. One time, she got up before me, at the butt crack of dawn. Snow was coming down like a waterfall and she shoveled half the path before I arrived. Reamed her a new one for being so reckless.”

I lifted an eyebrow at that. “You reamed Mona ‘a new one’?”

“Yep. Gave it to her, good and hard.”

I swallowed, internally stiffening and growing hot at the word choice.

But he wasn’t finished. “She said she liked the exertion or some such nonsense. Something about never being worn out, since she sits at a desk all day.” Melvin rolled his eyes heavenward. “That Mona, she needs a firm hand, doesn’t like to take no for an answer. I’ve had to lay the law down with her a few times.”

A spike of something both pleasant and unpleasant had me shaking my head to clear it. “About shoveling snow?”

“About all manner of things. She wants to do her own laundry. She cleans her own room, vacuums and dusts, even. She likes to stop by the store in town before coming up here, every time, and usually eats only what she brings. Drives Lila bonkers.”

“You mean she’s picky.”

“Nope. No. Not that. Not that at all. She doesn’t want to be a bother. Between you and me and this snow here, I like Leo a lot. The parents, I could take or leave, and Lisa hasn’t been here in ages, she was a sweet kid when I knew her. But Mona is my favorite.”

“Because she doesn’t want to be a bother?” I decided Melvin talked too much, and one day his gossiping was going to get him in trouble.

“No. Because she goes out of her way to treat us like people instead of servants. Now, I know, I know.” He paused shoveling to make a waving motion with his hand. “We work for them, we’re their employees. But Mona checks in before she comes to make sure the dates work for us, since we live here and all. Who else does that? No one. We didn’t even know Leo was coming until you people arrived. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining, but there’s definitely a difference. As an example, one time Lila was sick, so Mona canceled her trip and sent a care package instead.” Melvin pushed his shovel forward, resuming his work. “They’re all nice people, but Mona is a different kind of nice. You know Mona?”

I was listening so intently, I almost didn’t catch his question. It took me several seconds to figure out how I wanted to respond to it, and a few more before I trusted my voice to sound disinterested.

“She seems like she’d be judgmental.”

“What?” He scrutinized me, sounding confused. “Mona?”

“Yeah. Isn’t she supposed to be a genius?”

“Is she? You mean because of going to that Ivy League school when she was little?” Melvin laughed. “I guess that makes me a genius too. Because I beat her at poker every time we play. Or maybe she’s just bad at bluffing.”

I didn’t respond, clamping my jaw together, taking my frustration out on the pile of snow instead.

“No, Mona isn’t judgmental. She’s a little quiet, but I think that’s because she’s . . . well, she’s shy.”

“Shy?” I asked without meaning to, and then snapped my mouth shut.

“Yeah. Shy. She never did have friends. Lisa was always bringing friends here, kids from those boarding schools she went to, and Mona would play by herself, mostly here, in the funicular, reading books. Leo would also bring friends, he still does.” Melvin lifted his chin toward me. “That’s why I was surprised to see all you guys when you arrived, since Mona was coming.”

I found I needed to clear my throat before asking, “She’s always alone?”

He nodded. “Yep. Always alone. Every time she comes, and she comes up here a lot. Which is why we take pity on her and play poker, or Scrabble. She also likes Trivial Pursuit—the one from the eighties, when USSR was still a country—but we just read the cards back and forth to see who knows the most answers. She tried to get us to play this new thing called Punderdome or Punundrum, but it needs an even number of people.”