by Paddy Eger
Her hands were shaking as she wheeled to her room. He’d played with her emotions, and she’d almost fallen for it. How could he? She decided to bake bread to fill her mind and her hands with activity.
Minutes later she banged bread dough against the kitchen worktable. Thunk. Steve stayed at Bartley’s all night? Thunk. What had she been, a naive girl to laugh about? Thunk. Her heartache promised to linger.
The dough looked overworked. She stopped, wiped her hands and wheeled to the back porch. The unseasonably cool morning soothed her overheated face.
The phone rang. She ignored it.
“Marta? Phone call.”
Mrs. B.’s voice jangled in her ears. She turned back inside and took the call.
“Hey, Marta,” Lynne said.“ No practice today. The Valentine Festival starts today in Livingston. We’re going. I’ll be there by half past ten. We need a change of scenery.”
Marta focused on the countryside west of Billings, too embarrassed to tell Lynne about hearing Steve’s voice on Bartley’s phone. Lynne would tell her to stop leaping to conclusions. Right now, she wanted to forget most everything and everyone.
“You’re quiet today, Marta. Got a lot on your mind?”
“No. There’s nothing I want to say right now.”
“Right.”
“I can’t talk about it, okay?”
“Okay.” Lynne pulled into the play field parking lot. ”Now, Miss Selbryth, we are going to wander around. So hang on to your wheelchair handles and expect a few bumps. We’re going to have a good time, even if it kills us.”
The trip proved to be exactly what Marta needed to keep her mind busy. The community center had rows of tables displaying a sea of handmade afghans, quilts, preserves, and crafts. Lynne wheeled Marta past every exhibit. They shared chili with corn bread and sat people-watching.
Marta loved the way people acted happy, gave each other flowers, and sent out cards declaring their love. One elderly couple worked together in a woodcraft booth. Marta couldn’t keep her eyes off the way they touched hands and shared private smiles. Her mom didn’t have the chance to grow old with her dad. Maybe Robert would be there for her. She wondered what it would be like to share her life with someone, especially Steve. Too late for that. He’d moved on to share his life with someone more sophisticated.
Returning to the boarding house, she ate her traditional Saturday dinner a day early: a spoonful of peanut butter, but she skipped the bread and jam. She moved to the common room to finish the costume embroidery.
Every stitch became a stab. While she sat sewing, Steve was no doubt entertaining Bartley in a posh club, laughing all huddled together, then dancing cheek to cheek. She and Steve had never danced.
When she looked at her embroidery, the tight, angry stitches puckered the material. Now she’d need to redo everything.
The phone rang. Marta answered, “Belvern Boarding House.”
“Marta? Hi, it’s Steve.”
“Who?”
“Very funny. Happy Valentine’s Day. I miss you so much. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier.”
“That’s okay. Lynne and I were out most of the afternoon.”
“I’ve been on assignment. I hardly remember my own name. Got back late Thursday, then Bartley asked me to drive her to the airport early this morning. It’s been hectic.”
“You drove Bartley to the airport? Why?”
“She had a family emergency. Flew home for a few days. She asked me to tell you.”
Marta felt the pressure in her chest float away. So that was what had happened. “Did she give you any reason at all?”
“No. She’ll probably fill in the details once she’s back. It must be serious. She looked tired and even thinner than I remember. She worries about things even more than you do.”
Marta couldn’t think of what to say next, so she sat waiting for Steve to pick up the conversation. The phone line hummed with silence.
“Marta, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Tell me about your week.”
Steve rattled on and on about security and inspections for his trip onto a military base. “You’d have thought we were trying to carry in weapons the way they checked us. I wish you could have seen me. I feared they’d kick us out, so I didn’t crack a single joke.”
“Good thinking.”
“How did your week go, Marta?”
“Nothing new.”
More silence hummed on the phone. Steve tapped his mouth piece. “Marta? Are you sure you’re okay?“
“I’m fine. But, Steve, I’ve got to go.”
“OK. I’ll call you tomorrow night. Sweet dreams. Think of me.”
“Sure. Night.” After hanging up, she placed a collect call home to surprise her mom.
“Will you accept collect charges from Marta?” the operator asked.
“Yes. Hello?” answered a baritone voice.
Hearing a man’s voice surprised Marta. “Is my mom there?”
“She’s got the flu and she’s sleeping right now. I’m Robert Marsden, Elle’s friend. May I take a message?”
“Yes, thanks. Wish her happy Valentine’s Day.”
“I will. I’ll tell her you called. She’ll call you when she’s feeling better.”
Marta’s loneliness turned to sadness, then concern. Maybe she should have gone home to keep her mom company. No, Robert took over that job. What help could she be from a wheelchair anyway?
As she moved to her bedroom window, tiny snowflakes drifted down. In minutes a wind whipped up, changing them to a wild blur. Another storm passing through. That would keep Lynne holed up; she hated to drive in snow.
Marta imagined the icy flakes glancing off her cheeks and dropping onto her out-stretched tongue. In reality she was stuck inside with no hope of escape.
The front doorbell rang. Marta heard quiet laughter, then footsteps in the hall and a knock on her door.
“Come in,” she said as she ran her hands through her hair.
Steve walked in.
22
Marta gasped. “I thought you were out of town.”
“I was, but I wanted to be with you for Valentine’s Day.” Steve closed her door with a quiet click.
“But you called me.”
“From the Billings airport. We landed before the storm blew up. Did I surprise you?”
Marta saw Steve’s smile change to a quizzical look as she started to cry.
“Hey, don’t cry.” He tossed his overcoat on her bed and knelt beside her wheelchair.
She wiped her eyes and stared at his face. “I’ve missed you so much.”
He touched her hair, moving it away from her face and kissed her forehead. “Good! That’s the welcome I’d hoped for.”
“I...I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been... Did I say hi?”
Steve laughed. “In your own way.” He stood, put on his coat, and pulled hers from her closet. “Let’s head out and watch the snow.”
“But it’s becoming a storm.”
“I love to drive in snow.”
He helped her into her winter coat and carried her to his family’s station wagon. After he settled her into the back seat, he surrounded her with blankets, then slid into the driver’s seat. “We’re off.”
“I hope you mean to The Rims.”
Steve laughed. “Even after the bracelet fiasco? I’m pleasantly surprised. I was afraid you’d not want to return there.”
“I love The Rims almost as much as walking to the bay back home.”
They sat on the side road of The Rims where the snow created a fast-moving screen, isolating them from the town below. It was like being inside a snow globe. The flakes reminded Marta of the ending of Swan Lake when paper snow fluttered
onto the stage. She leaned her face against the cold window glass and closed her eyes.
“Warm enough?” Steve asked as he stretched his legs around the gearshift in the front seat and reached for her hand. “God, I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too.”
“This reminds me of being snowed in at my parents’ cabin. We should go up there since you didn’t get to stay over New Year’s. Let’s go now. I’ve got time before I need to fly back.”
“Won’t the roads be icy?”
“We have chains. Let’s do it. Okay?”
“Now?”
He backed away from the ledge and drove onto the main road.
A twinge of uncertainty climbed through her body. “I don’t have clothes or anything.”
“It’s just one night. You’re fine.”
“What about food?”
“I’ve had lots of practice cooking meals from canned food lately.”
“What about my wheelchair? Steve, I—“
“We’ll manage without it. It’ll be an adventure.”
Marta swallowed down her uneasiness. He’d come all this way to see her. Now he wanted to go to the cabin. In a snow storm. How could she say no? She’d wanted an adventure; now she’d get one.
They stopped in Laurel, and Steve phoned Mrs. B. She promised to let Marta’s mom know where she’d gone, if she called.
Few cars ventured out along the main highway, fewer still once they turned onto the mountain road to the cabin. Marta relaxed, enjoying her escape from the boarding house, certain Steve could handle the icy roads. But how would it feel going back to the cabin so soon after her fall?
As Steve carried her up the steps, she looked around for any sign of the broken porch railing and the chaos of the woodpile that had buried her.
“You cleaned up everything.”
“All back to normal. Good as new.”
When they entered the cabin, their warm breath hung in puffs whenever they spoke. It felt colder than when she and Lynne had come up.
Steve settled Marta onto the sofa by the fireplace and covered her with quilts. “I’ll get wood to start a fire.”
“Be careful!”
“Relax, Marta. I’ll be fine.”
As they waited for the fire to take the chill off the room, Steve pulled up a chair and sat holding her hand. “How’s this?”
“It’s wonderful! Thank you for bringing me. I’ve been lonely.”
“I could tell. I’m sorry your mom is sick and that I’ve been away so much. You need to think happy thoughts.”
“Like what? Sewing beads on costumes until my hands cramp? Or not being able to go anywhere unless people haul me and my wheelchair around?” She recognized the anger in her voice, wishing too late she could take back her words.
“How ‘bout me? Doesn’t thinking about me make you happy?”
“Yes, but you’re busy or gone.”
“Ouch, you’re mean today. Does Marta Selbryth need a kick in her back side?”
“Maybe. I’m so tired of sitting. It’s ten days before I get this cast off.”
“And each day you’re closer to walking and dancing. Focus on that.” Steve stood, kissed her cheek, and headed for the kitchen area. “Ready for a cup of hot tea?”
“That depends on whether you’ll carry me into the bathroom later on.”
“No fear, fair maiden. We can handle any situation.” Steve settled the tea kettle on the stove, then filled a small coffee pot with water and scoops of coffee for himself.
The bathroom experience didn’t embarrass Marta like she thought it might. Steve carried her inside, set her on the edge of the bathtub, and got a stepstool to elevate her leg. When he returned, he moved her to the couch and set her down with a grin. “You are light as a feather. Let me find some food to fatten you up. That cast must take lots of energy to haul around.”
Steve whistled as he rummaged through the kitchen cabinets. His off-key tune made her smile. She’d missed his being around. His presence pushed away her sadness. Could this be how love felt?
His foraging produced chicken noodle soup, Cheese Whiz, a carton of sugar wafers, and a jar of Planter’s peanuts. After he started heating the soup, he set the coffee table in front of Marta. “So, now what, Miss Fluff? Hungry? Tired? Want to play cards?”
“I’m fine sitting here watching you work. Are you sure we should stay overnight? Maybe a few hours is enough.”
“It’s beautiful when we get snowed in. It’s quiet and we’re all alone—”
“Wait. Where will I sleep?”
“Relax, Miss Worry Wart. You can sleep on the couch, and I’ll sleep in the loft. Come on, Marta. It’ll be fun.”
“I, ah…okay.”
Steve grinned and rubbed his hands together. He took down a game box and handed it to her. “Okay, I challenge you to Monopoly. The winner decides how long we’ll stay. Sort out that mess of play money while you still have a reason to smile.”
Marta toyed with the bowl of soup. She turned down Steve’s offerings and his extra ”treasury of foods”: pimento cheese and canned deviled ham.
“Aren’t you hungry? It’s been hours since you ate.”
“No. I’m fine. But is there something to drink?” Marta reached for her diet pills. Her pockets were empty. She’d be without pills until she got back to Billings. Drat.
Steve found an Orange Crush, two Pepsi-Colas, and a bottle of Squirt. He lined them up on the table next to the bottle opener. “There, just in case we get into the game. I don’t want to turn my back on you in case you decide to cheat.”
Marta threw a pillow at him. He caught it and grinned.
They played for hours, taking turns buying property and spending time in jail. When she surrendered her last property, he raised his bottle of soda, toasting it against hers, tipping her remaining soda into her lap.
“Hey! Take it easy!”
He stopped laughing and grabbed a towel. “Sorry.”
“I’m sticky and you want me to forgive you? Maybe if we have a Monopoly rematch tomorrow morning...”
Steve wiped off the blankets and smiled. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? For now let me get my mother’s robe.”
“You do realize I have soda in my hair, don’t you?”
“I’ll help you wash it out. Can’t have you be a sticky loser, can we?”
In the next five minutes, he’d carried her to the bathroom, she changed into his mother’s robe, and he’d carried her to a chair by the kitchen sink.
Steve gathered shampoo and towels. “Lean back and leave everything to me.”
She closed her eyes, feeling his hands and the warm water circling through her hair. “This feels wonderful. I’m floating on a cloud.”
“Who cut your hair so short?”
Marta laughed. “I did it one night. It’s a long, boring story.”
“Well, I like it. And, I doubt anything about you is boring.” Steve’s hands stopped moving.
Marta opened her eyes. With his hands tangled in her curls, she couldn’t turn away.
He leaned down and kissed her wet face and her lips. “Okay, Miss Fluff. Now I’ve got you where I want you.”
He kissed her lips again. Her usual panic didn’t arise. A mellow glow roamed her body. Were Steve’s kisses or not taking the pills the reason she felt so good?
Steve stared down at her. “Ready for more?”
“Keep doing your job, Mr. Sticky, if you want to be forgiven.” Marta closed her eyes and let the sensation of laying in the ocean surf on a hot summer day wash away her sadness.
Steve’s hands stopped again.
She opened her eyes.
“You’re beautiful. I want to keep doing this. That way I can w
atch you,” he said as he brushed wet curls off her face.
“I’m not beautiful.“
“Sh-h. You’re beautiful and I love you. Being away from you is torture. Spend the night with me.”
Marta bolted upright. ”I—” Her heart pounded faster than a jack hammer.
“I‘ll keep you warm.”
Marta grabbed a towel. “My hair is probably clean now.”
“Hey, relax. Let me rinse out the shampoo.”
Steve tucked the top quilt around Marta’s neck. “Think you’ll be warm enough? I can round up more covers.”
“If you put on any more covers, I’ll smother.”
“Okay then.” He kissed her cheek and slid around to kiss her lips. “Sleep well. Thanks for coming with me. Holler if you need anything.”
She watched him start up the ladder. “Steve? Thanks. I know I’ve been hard to be around.”
“Don’t worry, Marta. This cast business ends soon. Night.”
She lay awake, watching the fire until it became a pile of embers. Once she fell asleep, she became the firebird. As she danced the dramatic ballet, ugly birds flocked onto the stage plucking her feathers. The more she pushed them away, the angrier they became, biting and scratching her arms and legs until they drew blood. She cried out, “No! Stop! Stop!”
One bird grabbed her shoulder. She struck out with her hands.
“Marta! Marta!”
She opened her eyes. Steve knelt beside her, ducking her frenzied arms.
“What? Oh.”
“Are you okay?”
Marta shuddered. “I had the worst nightmare.”
“You’re safe. We can talk about it in the morning. Go back to sleep.”
Marta shook her head, trying to push the vivid scene away. “Stay down here with me? Please? I don’t want to be alone.”
He pulled one of the oversized chairs close to the couch. “I’ll stay right here. All night.”
When Marta awoke in the morning, Steve’s head leaned awkwardly to the right. A small rhythmic snore escaped his lips. She watched him, thinking about how he’d flown home just to see her. Such a sweet thing to do. That’s what made him so lovable.