text: “I can’t believe you drug me out here.” “Stop complaining, it’ll be fun,” she says before grinning broadly at me. She’s enthusiastic today. “I should be coding right now.” I sound petulant, but it can’t be helped. I really don’t want to be here. “It’s a snow day.” “You don’t really have those when you work from home.” “You work all the time, it’s okay to take a day off once in a while, you know.” “Says the part-time librarian,” my words come out snider than I intended. I immediately regret the snarky comment as I glance over at Anna and see her raise an eyebrow in surprise while staring back at me. “Don’t be shitty. I love my job and spending time with my family. It works for me.” Her tone is definitely cooler than it was before, but she doesn’t sound particularly angry at least. “I’m sorry. I know, I’m just stressed.” I unconsciously run a hand through my hair and she flashes a sympathetic smile at me as we continue trekking up the hill. I have no interest in picking a fight today of all days but naturally, I couldn’t resist taking a jab at her for no apparent reason. We haven’t lived together in eight years but she’ll always be my annoying little sister, even if she’s really not that annoying. Not that I would ever admit that to her, of course. I actually am surprised she talked me into coming out here today. It’s been ten years since I set foot in this park and I’d be happier if I never saw this place again. There are far too many memories here. I shake my head in a futile attempt to keep them at bay. Glancing at Anna, she looks as cheerfully undaunted as ever. Wearing a fluffy cream-colored sweater that she probably knit herself over tight blue jeans with long blonde hair flowing in the breeze and her sled tucked under her arm she looks like the poster child of mid-western snow days. She looks too young to have a husband and two kids at home; there is no way anyone would ever guess she was a librarian either. I’m only a year older but sometimes I feel like there are decades between us. Finally, we reach the top of the hill and Anna turns to me expectantly as she lowers her sled to the ground. I follow her lead and set mine down before gazing out at the sparkling snow coating everything in sight. It really is beautiful; a silent vista spread out before us, the tall slope we’re standing on promising a thrilling plunge to the wide-open field at its base. Further across the field below, an army of snow-laden evergreen trees frames the edge of the park. A few other visitors are milling around in the parking lot to the far side of the field but the park itself is surprisingly empty and eerily quiet today. “So... ten years,” she says softly with a wistful look on her face. Maybe she’s not as immune to the memories as I thought. “Yep,” I respond coolly. A memory of the sickening crunch of metal and fiberglass colliding with wood before crumpling like a tin can pops unbidden into my mind. I frantically try to suppress it before anything else forces its way to the forefront. “Look, I know this is hard. It is for me too, but I just thought coming here today might be good for both of us.” She sounds hopeful but she’s watching me closely for my response. Any other day I’d plaster on my fake smile and tell her that I’m fine and this was a great idea but I just can’t force myself to do it today. Not here. “It’s different for you,” I whisper while avoiding her eye contact. She lets out an exasperated sigh before responding. “For fuck’s sake Claire, it was an accident! No one blames you but you.” Part of me really wants to believe her, but the rest of me is absolutely positive she’s just trying to be nice. The fact is, ten years ago I killed my brother. It was an accident; it was dark and I never saw the ice, but that doesn’t change the end result. Not a day goes by that I don’t wish Dad had ignored me when I asked to drive us home from the park. I had just gotten my license and I was so fucking adamant about proving I knew what I was doing. To this day I’m still not sure what happened. We practiced ice and snow driving excessively before I got my license. I remember spending hours sliding around empty snow-covered parking lots with Dad because he insisted I know how to handle myself in inclement weather before he would agree to me driving by myself. Anna and Ben tagged along on some of those practice sessions too, though they considered it an amusement ride instead of serious training. We used to have much fun before-- “Hey, you still with me?” Anna’s words jerk me back out of the memory abyss. “I’m fine... just thinking.” “Don’t,” she says sternly. I glance up at her and ponder the suddenly serious expression on her face. “You’ve spent a decade in your own head making yourself miserable. Today we’re not thinking about the date or work or anything else. We’re going to have some fun for old times' sake because it’s what Ben would have wanted.” She is surprisingly convincing when she wants to be. I pity her husband attempting to win an argument against her. “Well, he did love sledding.” I offer her a small contrite smile. “He really did,” she responds before grinning in return. “Fine, you win. Let’s go sledding,” I say with the first sincere smile I’ve had in months. Her cheerfulness is infectious. This is, without question, the most depressing day of the year but she managed to get a real smile out of me anyway. I feel a sudden stab of guilt. I haven’t completely avoided my family over the past few years, but I have definitely skipped pretty much all birthdays and most major holidays. I justify it by working through whatever event I was invited to, but I could just as easily take a break or follow Anna’s advice and actually take a whole day off for a change. I really have no set schedule, just deadlines that are usually pretty reasonable. I’m not even entirely sure why I constantly use my work for bullshit excuses to get out of anything resembling a social event, but I've been doing it for years. Seeing her here, standing next to her sled and looking so much like she did on the last day our family was whole, I realize how unbelievably stupid I’ve been. “Anna...” I start, unsure of how to continue. She looks at me quizzically, waiting for me to resume. “I’m sorry.” “For what?” She sounds genuinely surprised. “For being shitty, I guess. I’m sorry I’ve missed pretty much all of your kid’s birthdays, and yours and Dad’s too for that matter. I really don’t mean to it’s just when we’re together it’s...” I trail off, trying to find the words I simply can’t grasp. “Difficult?” she suggests while staring at me intently. I nod in response. “Exactly.” She closes the distance between us in an instant and throws her arms around me. She says nothing, just holds me tightly. We haven’t hugged since we were children. We’re not really a hugging family. After my initial shock wears off, I wrap my arms around her and return the embrace pulling her close to me. I’m not sure how much time passes like this or exactly when I started crying. When we finally separate, she has tears in her eyes too so I don’t feel quite so bad about getting emotional. I wipe my tears away and watch as she does the same. We are also not a crying-together family. “Thank you,” she says softly as she finishes wiping her face. My turn to be surprised. “For what?” “For finally having an actual conversation with me.” She smirks triumphantly at me before continuing. “You know, dragging you out here was actually Dad’s idea. He misses you too.” I chuckle at the news. Of course, Mr. family-togetherness was in on this supposedly impromptu outing. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.” She shrugs good-naturedly. “Glad it’s not a shock because we’re having a family dinner at his house tonight.” “Well, I get the feeling since you drove I don’t have much of a choice either way, but I’ll be there,” I say dryly. “Good.” She flashes another victorious smile before returning to her sled and grabbing the rope from the ground. “So, are we going sledding or not?” “We’re sledding,” I say as I bend over my own sled and grab its rope, unable to keep the smile off of my lips. I awkwardly lower myself onto the sled, noting just how out of practice I am. Anna, as always, gracefully gets into position on hers and watches me in amusement as I settle in. Before I can get in a self-deprecating joke she reaches out and gently squeezes my arm. She doesn’t say anything but she doesn’t need to. I love her too, even if we’re not a saying-it-out-loud type of family. I smile back and squeeze her hand in response. She releases me and glances down the slope. “Race ya?” she asks playfully. Before I can respond she starts pushing off. “Cheater!” I yell out before pushing off after her with a laugh. As the sled glides across the snow and starts picking up speed on the slope I feel as if a massive weight I didn’t even realize I was carrying has been lifted off my shoulders. The brisk wind whips through my hair as we speed towards the field below, Anna is still slightly ahead of me but I’m gaining on her. A mild euphoria creeps over me as I flatten myself against the sled to move even faster. I can’t seem to stop smiling as I think about the evening ahead. For the first time in a very long time, I can actually remember the person I was before the accident. Someday, I’m going to get that part of myself back.