summary: in which the murphys go skiing with the harrises
if there are any trigger warnings please let me know!
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The first snowfall came in early December, and Connor and Zoe awoke to their backyard covered in a thin, white blanket. They screamed in delight, rushing down the stairs and managing to make it out the backyard door before Cynthia caught them and dragged both of them back into the house, scolding them for not wearing their jackets and still being in their pajamas.
"You two are going to finish your breakfast first, before you get to go out and play," she insisted, shooing them upstairs to get dressed.
They rushed through breakfast, stuffing their face with pancakes so quickly that Cynthia later declared it a miracle that neither of them had choked.
"Can we go and play now?" they begged as soon as they had cleared their plates.
She helped them into their coats. "Yes, you may," she agreed, for they looked like they would explode if they were in the house for another minute.
Shrieking with joy, they dashed out, stomping and running about. There was still some light snow falling, and they stuck their tongues out to taste it.
"So cold!" Zoe squealed.
"So wet!" Connor laughed gleefully.
"Mummy, come build a snowman with us!" Zoe pleaded.
Cynthia pulled on her jacket, glancing at the amount of snow on the ground. "Sorry, kids, there's not enough snow yet." Their faces fell, and she quickly suggested, "What about snowballs?"
They brightened. "Okay! Good idea!"
She showed them how to pack the snow into a ball, and they tossed snowballs at each other for nearly an hour, breathless from laughter and their cheeks reddened from the cold.
"That was so fun! I love snow!" Zoe cheered, rolling on the ground in delight and kicking the powdery snow everywhere.
Connor tossed a snowball at her, hitting her in the face. She glared, throwing another back but missing. "You can't hit me!" he teased.
She stood up to chase him, brushing some of the snow off her clothes. He nimbly darted away, she was close behind but never really fast enough to actually catch him, until he slipped on a patch of icier snow and fell down on his hands and knees. She tackled him, and they rolled over and over, tangled up and howling with laughter.
After they had changed out of their damp clothes into dry ones, the children went downstairs to look for Cynthia to ask for some hot chocolate. Not seeing her in the kitchen, dining room, or living room, they trooped back upstairs to check the master bedroom, where she would normally would be if she wasn't downstairs. However, the master bedroom was empty, too.
"I wonder where she is," Connor sighed. "I want my hot chocolate."
"What if she disappeared?" Zoe asked, her eyes widening. She grabbed Connor's arm in concern.
He scoffed. "That's silly, why would she do that?"
"I don't know." She admitted, "Maybe magic?"
He shrugged her off. "Let's go look in our rooms."
"But she won't be in there," she said.
"Why not?"
"Because it's not Bedsheet-Changing-Day, and it's not Cleanup Time, and it's also not bedtime."
"We can try," he insisted.
They went to Zoe's room first. "Mummy?" Connor called, opening the door.
"Yes?" came her muffled reply through the other side of the wall.
"She's in my room. Told you so!" he exclaimed triumphantly. Zoe simply snorted in return.
They pushed open the door to Connor's room, to see Cynthia sitting on the floor in front of the wardrobe, with a luggage next to her.
"What are you doing?" they asked in unison.
"I'm packing," she answered simply.
"For what?"
"Our ski trip, with the Harrises—remember?" she said, folding a pair of Connor's long pants and placing them inside the luggage.
"When is it?" asked Zoe.
"We're leaving on Saturday."
"For how long?"
"Four nights."
"How many days is that?" questioned Connor.
"Five."
"Will we get to go sledding again?" Zoe asked.
"Yes, but I think you'll get to try skiing this year, Connor," she said, turning to him.
He gasped. "I do? Really? Oh boy! Oh boy!"
"What about me?" Zoe never liked being left out. "Do I get to ski too?"
Cynthia thought for a moment, then replied, "You might be a little too young, but we'll get there and see, alright?" Zoe nodded.
"I'm so excited!" Connor gushed, running onto his bed and jumping up and down on it. "I get to go skiing!"
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Previously, he and Zoe only got to sled with Samuel Harris, and then last year, Samuel got to ski too. So it was just the two of them sledding, while Cynthia and Mrs. Harris watched and chatted over things like recipes or the latest fashion trends. Larry and Mr. Harris always skied together, while Molly Harris, who was two years older than Connor, snowboarded. She fell down a lot though.
Connor was always a little jealous when they got to take the ski lifts up on the steeper slopes while he could only sled on the gentler slopes. Sledding was lots of fun, but it was very tiring to pull the sleds back up the hill. He wished there was a sled lift to help with that.
But now he got to go skiing! That meant that he was a grown up big boy, and he couldn't wait to show everyone how good he was at skiing.
The slopes were about two hours' drive away from home, and Connor loved the little log cabin they shared every year with the Harrises. It was made of wood, with smoke curling up from the chimney, and he thought it looked just like the cabins in picture books Cynthia had gotten for him from the library.
The only thing he didn't like about it was that he had to share a room with Samuel and Molly.
Actually, Molly was alright. She talked a little too loudly sometimes, but she was nice. On the other hand, Samuel, who had flaming red hair and lots of freckles, liked nothing better than to tease Connor and Zoe. He was six months older than Connor, but a good two and a half inches taller, which Connor thought just wasn't very fair at all, especially since Samuel made fun of it all the time. It wasn't Connor's fault that he was short.
And once, Samuel pulled Zoe's hair and made her cry and he'd wanted to punch Samuel, but he couldn't because his parents were there, and they would get upset and say, "Violence is never the answer, Connor" like they had when he hit Zoe on the arm because she had taken his favorite comic book and spilt her orange juice on it so they had to throw it away because all the pages stuck together and it was gross. Cynthia had bought him a new one a week afterwards, but he still got timeout and had to say sorry to Zoe for hitting her. Which he thought wasn't very fair because her spilling her juice on his book was "just an accident, Connor, accidents happen" so she hadn't gotten scolded. And she was younger, so he had to forgive her.
"Connor, are you coming?" Larry's voice jolted him out of his thoughts. "We're headed out."
"Coming!" he replied, throwing on his jacket and beanie, and running out to join the others.
"Connor, I'm a dragon, look!" Zoe exclaimed, breathing out in his face.
"And look, I'm smoking!" He placed two fingers to his lips, pretending to hold a cigarette, as his breath came out in puffs.
"I will never cease to be amazed at how the children get excited about seeing their own breaths even though it happens every year," Mr. Harris commented. The adults laughed.
Molly snorted. "But it's cool!" she protested.
"Why don't we go get our skis and stuff?" Cynthia suggested. "The weather is lovely now, wouldn't want to waste it."
(Connor wasn't sure how one could waste weather.)
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"These are so hard to walk in," Connor complained as they headed towards the ski lifts in their snow boots.
"No, they're not," Samuel contradicted, showing off by jumping around in them.
Connor simply scowled back at him. Samuel was older, and he definitely had better motor skills, but it was annoying how he kept showing off.
They put on their skis, getting onto the chairlifts.
"My skis are so heavy," Connor giggled. "They feel like they're going to pull my feet off!"
"I feel like the skis are going to fall off my feet," Samuel added as they headed slowly up the mountain.
"They won't," Mr. Harris assured him. "They're strapped on tightly."
"We're so high!" Connor exclaimed, gripping his ski poles tightly in case he dropped them. The way they dangled above the rocky sides of the mountain made him feel a little terrified, it gave him a funny feeling in his stomach, but at the same time, he couldn't help but admit that it was exciting, and the view was simply gorgeous.
They made it off the lift without any mishaps, but Connor gulped when he saw the slope heading down the mountain.
"Are we ready?" Larry asked.
"Yup!" Molly hopped onto her snowboard, going down the slope with practiced ease before turning around a bend and disappearing out of sight.
"Okay, Sam, your turn," Mr. Harris encouraged. Samuel pushed himself off with his ski poles, making it down a few feet before his skis crisscrossed and he tripped over.
"It's okay, get up and try again," Mr. Harris yelled. Samuel struggled to his feet, adjusted his skis, and looked back to his father for help to navigate the turn. Mr. Harris skied down and guided him around the bend, leaving just Larry and Connor at the top of the slope.
"Let's go, bud," Larry said. "Don't cross your skis, and if you're going too fast just make a triangle with your skis, like this," he demonstrated. "I'll help you around the turn."
"But what if I fall down?" Connor asked.
"I'll help you up," Larry assured him.
Connor took a deep breath, shuffling forward on his skis. Then suddenly, he was sliding, sliding too quickly, and before he knew it, the front of his skis banged against each other and he was on his hands and knees in the snow. He tried getting up, but his skis were too long and clumsy and he couldn't get his feet into the right position.
"Daddy, help," he called, after trying again but to no avail. Larry came down and gave him a hand, pulling him back up and handing him the ski poles he had dropped.
"Try again," he urged.
The snow was soft and Connor stabbed at it a few times with his pole as he gathered up the courage to try it again.
"Go slow," Larry instructed, "keep them in a triangle shape, that's called a snow plough."
Connor tried again, but every time he attempted to do the snow plough, he ended up crossing his skis and falling down. "This is too hard," he complained. "I'm just falling down all the time."
Larry pulled him up again. "Don't worry, try again. Skiing isn't easy, but you'll get the hang of it if you practice. Let's try again, okay?
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"What did you think of skiing, boys?" Mrs. Harris asked that night, as they had dinner in a restaurant not too far from their cabin. It was crowded with a number of other skiers and snowboarders, as many people travelled there during the holiday season.
"I don't like it," Connor said, as he helped himself to a breadstick. "It's too hard."
"Yeah, that's because you're so bad at it," Samuel laughed unkindly.
"Samuel, that's not nice," Mrs. Harris chided.
Connor glared at him. "Shut up."
"Connor, please don't be rude!" Cynthia exclaimed, her face flushing.
He took a bite of his breadstick sullenly. That was not fair, Samuel was the one who started it, and he was the one being mean in the first place, not Connor!
"Next year can I go skiing?" Zoe piped up.
"Yes, of course, honey," Larry said.
"Tomorrow can I go sledding? I don't want to ski anymore," Connor said.
"That's so babyish," Samuel teased.
"Will you stop it!" Connor yelled, slamming his fork onto his plate as hot tears sprang into his eyes.
"Crybaby," Samuel started until Mrs. Harris gave him a hard pinch on his arm. Several other people in the restaurant had turned to look at them in curiosity after Connor's outburst, and Cynthia looked mortified.
"Connor," Larry began, getting up from his seat. "Come with me." He picked up Connor—who was crying loudly by now—and carried him out of the restaurant.
Connor clung to Larry's shoulder, still sobbing, but Larry knelt down to set him down on the ground.
"Why are you crying?"
"Because Samuel is mean and stupid and he's always saying mean things to me!" Connor stamped his feet, wiping angrily at the tears that ran down his cheeks.
Larry pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to him. "Okay, I'm not going to talk to you until you calm down."
Connor buried his face in the handkerchief and cried for a while more until he had calmed down significantly.
"Are you ready to talk?"
Connor hiccupped, then nodded.
"Why are you crying?"
"Because Samuel is being mean."
"Does that give you any reason to cry?"
"Because he made me angry… and sad," Connor muttered.
"But does that mean you have to cry?" Larry was pressed.
"No," he finally admitted, a little reluctantly.
Larry continued, "Samuel is just trying to provoke you, because he knows you get upset easily. So, if you start crying or getting angry, then he will keep doing it to you. Do you understand?" Connor nodded. "If Samuel says something to you that is mean or unkind, you need to just control yourself and ignore him. Alright?"
"But what if he keeps doing it?"
"If you don't give him the reaction he wants, then it's no fun for him to tease you anymore," Larry explained.
"Mm… okay," Connor finally agreed, still a little skeptical.
"Are you ready to go back in and finish your meal?"
"Yeah."
Larry led him back into the restaurant. Samuel was looking a little more subdued, and the two boys ignored each other for the rest of the meal. Connor focused instead on finishing his dinner.
His macaroni and cheese had already gone cold.
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