With the baby due in March, by the time I came home for Christmas, Penny was obviously, exuberantly pregnant. I was on a very brief visit back from Europe, where I was having the best World Cup season of my career; with wins in Lake Louise and Val d’Isère under my belt, as well as a strong performance on my home turf of Park City, I had a real shot at adding my very first World Cup globe to my collection. I dreamed of the iconic crystalline globe at night, as, I was certain, did Luke, who himself was having an unparalleled hot streak. The general public, when they cared at all, cared only about the Olympics, but for skiers, World Cup racing was an even higher distinction.

Penny and I had been enjoying a renewed closeness over the previous few months. Many of the other skiers I knew had siblings who were also athletes, the sport being a family tradition. Sarah Sweeny’s older sister had been an even stronger skier than she was, up until a back injury had sidelined her. Now she was part of Sarah’s training team, and I saw them together in Park City—where we all currently lived—constantly. The older Penny and I got, the more we struggled for common ground. But now we were having a parallel experience of hope and excitement, me for my first World Cup title, her for the life growing inside of her. Even though we didn’t understand the shape of one another’s ambitions, we understood the depths of them, the feeling of wanting something so badly that it eclipsed all the minor annoyances of daily life.

Penny was luminous that year at Christmas, her pert little beach ball of a belly constantly cradled by her hand, her skin glowing, her eyes shining. My parents were happy to have both of their girls home, ecstatic about becoming grandparents. I was more excited to be an auntie than I ever imagined I’d be. I focused so much on what the muscle and sinew of my body could be shaped to do, but here was Penny’s producing life! Pregnancy is only an ordinary kind of miracle when it’s happening to someone else: when it’s your own flesh and blood, it feels like everything.

The prospect of fatherhood seemed to have brought out the best in Jon; his normally taciturn manner had loosened. He was gregarious with us and solicitous of Penny, fussing over her and running to deliver her anything she asked for.

As we were preparing for Christmas dinner, Penny said she had something to tell us.

“I wanted to wait until Katie was here,” she said.