Chapter Five
“Grady, gonna win gold?” Mr. Kettle asks, positioning the mini chalkboard listing the specials outside his door. The butcher slaps me on the back as I walk by his shop.
“I hope.” I smile and continue my way down the small downtown street of my hometown.
A ski town would best describe where I grew up. Growing up everyone was either a skier or snowboarder because there isn't much to do in this town. Cedarwood, Vermont is known for small bed and breakfasts, small lodges. During the winter, the streets line with tourists who love Mr. Kettle's beef jerky, or Ms. Greer's chocolates. Kids skate in the square while their dads drink coffee under the heaters and their moms shop in the boutiques that are really just rows of overpriced homemade goods that help to keep the town alive.
