Page 35 of It’s Me, but Different

“Ana!” I scream with my heart about to burst from my chest.

Before I can process the thought, I'm skiing toward her faster than I've ever skied, making each turn with the desperation of a mother who sees her daughter in danger.

But Sloane gets there much sooner.

She glides with that natural grace I've always envied, stopping Ana Sofia's body just before she crashes into one of the pines. She catches her with one arm while using her skis to brake both of them, creating a cloud of powder snow that envelops them like white smoke.

“Easy there, champ,” I hear her murmur as they stop. “I've got you.”

When I reach them, my heart beats so hard I can hear it in my ears. Ana Sofia is sitting in the snow, Sloane kneeling beside her, making sure nothing is broken.

“Mom, I'm fine,” she protests when I reach her side, though tears are about to overflow. “I just got scared.”

“It's normal to get scared,” Sloane intervenes calmly. “You did very well stopping when you realized you were going too fast. That means you're learning.”

“But I fell,” my daughter complains. “And in front of all those people.”

I follow the direction of her gaze and see that several skiers have stopped to observe the scene. Some look at us with curiosity, others with that mix of relief and nervousness reflected on parents' faces when they see it's not their child who rolled down the slope.

“You know what?” Sloane asks, helping the girl stand up. “The best skiers in the world fall constantly. Don't be embarrassed at all. I fell in two World Cup events, on television, so imagine that. Way more people saw me fall.”

“Really?”

“Really. At your age I fell so many times I was a danger to other skiers. Once I took Harper down with me, but don't remind her because she got really mad,” she jokes, drawing a smile from my daughter. “Do you want to keep going down the blue slope, or would you prefer to go back to the beginner area?”

Ana Sofia looks toward the slope she still has left to cover. I can see the conflict in her gaze: fear fighting against determination.

“I want to finish,” she decides. “But… could you go in front of me? Just to make sure I don't go too fast.”

“Of course,” Sloane assures her with a wink.

And that's how I end up skiing behind them too, watching my daughter go down the rest of the blue slope, with Sloane making gentle S-shaped turns in front of her, controlling the speed and shouting words of encouragement every few yards.

And a silly smile forms on my lips. I completely trust Sloane to take care of my daughter. When we reach the end of the slope, Ana Sofia is radiant with pride and adrenaline. And I suppose I am too.

“I did it!” she shouts, raising her arms in the air. “Did you see me, Mom? I went down an entire blue slope!” she shrieks again, as if I had been far away instead of skiing behind her.

“You were incredible,” Sloane assures, taking off her helmet and shaking her hair. “Tomorrow, when you go backhome, you can tell your friends you went down a blue slope. I'll make you a certificate to show them.”

The smile on Ana Sofia's face disappears instantly.

“I don't want to go home,” she sighs. “I want to stay here and keep skiing with you.”

Sloane looks at me over my daughter's head, and I see something in her eyes I can't decipher. Hope? Sadness? Both at the same time?

“Hey, Silver Peaks will always be here. It's not going anywhere,” she tells the girl. “You can come whenever you want, and someday I'll teach you to go down a black diamond slope.”

“A black diamond?” Ana Sofia asks with wide eyes. “Aren't those super difficult? Lumi went down one for the first time this year, and she skis amazingly.”

“They're for expert skiers,” Sloane confirms. “But I'm sure you could do it very soon.”

While my daughter chatters excitedly about slopes and descents, I watch Sloane. There's something in the way she talks to Ana Sofia, in the way she kneels to be at her height, in how she celebrates her small triumphs, that reminds me too much of Luis.

But at the same time, it's different.

Where Luis was calm rationality, Sloane brings warmth. Where Luis explained with scientific patience why things work a certain way, Sloane uses humor and personal stories.

The comparison doesn't hurt as much as I expected. Instead of feeling like I'm betraying my husband's memory, I feel like my heart is expanding to welcome Sloane too.