From Here to Paternity

woofed halfheartedly at the squirrel before laying his big head down and going back to sleep.
    Jane bathed hurriedly and dressed in the warm clothes she’d brought along—thermal underwear, heavy socks, corduroy slacks, and a flannel shirt with a turtleneck underneath. “I’m a mountain woman, Willard,“ she said, giving him a gentle prod with her toe. “An overstuffed, but stylish, yuppie mountain woman.“
    Williard heaved himself to his feet and ambled along with her as she explored the rest of the house. First she actually entered the dreaded kitchen, found some gourmet coffee Shelley had left, and started the coffeemaker. Then she donned coat, gloves, and boots and took the big dog outside. While he visited a patch of ground under a trio of pines where the snow was only halfway up his legs instead of clear to his belly, she stood sucking in lungfuls of thin, cold, snow-and-woods-scented air. It smelled so good she wished she could drink it. Or warm it up and bathe in it.
    She took Willard back in, fed him from the bag of his dry food she’d brought along, and gave him a big bowl of water. By that time her coffee was done and she poured a huge mug before dialing Shelley’s number. Shelley’s first words were, “Did the view knock your socks off when you woke up?“
    “I’ll say!“
    “I was afraid you might close the curtains before you went to sleep and ruin the surprise. I’ll be right over.“
    She was there in a matter of moments, dressed in an aqua ski outfit that made her eyes look the same color, even though Jane knew perfectly well it was an illusion. Shelley was great at fashion illusions.
    “I’ve been exploring,“ Jane said. “And I’m amazed. This is really some place you could just move into and live in. There are jigsaw puzzles in the cabinets over there. And extra blankets and pillows and even a vacuum and cleaning supplies, besides the extra boots and mittens, in the closet by the front door.“ She paused warily. “This doesn’t mean anybody expects me to clean, does it?“
    “No. But normally there isn’t any daily maid service. The units are only cleaned thoroughly between guests. Of course, we’re an exception because they’re trying to sell us on the place and we’re getting the VIP treatment.“
    “I’d guess, though, that the real cream in the fridge is your doing.“
    Just then the girls stumbled into the living room, sleep-stupid but eager. “Mom! Isn’t this place great?“ Katie asked, running a set of mauve-taloned fingers through her tangled hair.
    Shelley’s daughter, Denise, forgot for a moment that she was a teenager and not only sat down next to her mother, but leaned into a hug.
    “It’s wonderful, Katie. What are you girls doing today? Trying out for parts in a horror movie?“
    “Huh?“
    “Your fingernails,“ Jane explained.
    Katie held her hands out and stared at them as if they didn’t belong to her. “Euuw, gross! Fungus city!“
    “We met this ski instructor yesterday—“ Denise said.
    They both squealed in ecstasy.
    “He said he’d give us a lesson if we’d come over there,“ Katie continued.
    “Where is over there?“ Jane asked.
    “Down the road. We take the shuttle. Nobody even has to drive us. We just need lift tickets and money for ski rental and boots and poles and lunch—“
    “About ten dollars, then?“ Jane asked.
    “Ten dollars! Mom!“
    Shelley intervened. “Girls, everything you want to do here is free and there’s lots to do. Starting with breakfast. Go get dressed and you can come down to the lodge with us.“ When they’d gone, she said, “I saw the ski instructor in question yesterday. He’s a thirty-five-year-old lech.“
    “His age and ‘lechiness’ weren’t even an issue. If Katie’s going to break any limbs, she’s going to have to find a cheaper way to do it. I was glancing at some ads in the airport while Mel was looking around for what the airline had done with Willard. The prices for lift tickets and equipment rental were astonishing. Oh, Shelley, do we really ever have to go home?“ She strolled over to the living room windows and gazed out. “This place is beautiful.“
    “It is, isn’t it?“
    Jane drew back, startled. “Oh, it’s a cat! I thought it was a big snowball come to life!“ A large white cat was sitting on the woodpile at the end of the deck outside. It turned and stared, green-eyed and smug, at Jane for moment, then hopped over the rail and out of sight.
    There was