Winter at the White Oaks Lodge

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Winter at the White Oaks Lodge Page 24

by Abbie Williams


  “Good,” I said.

  “Are those tears I hear?” Dad asked. “You all right, sweetie? I was calling to wish Millie Jo a happy birthday.”

  “I am,” I assured him. “It’s a big day for her. I can’t believe she’s already two.”

  “Hi, Grandpa!” Millie said then, picking up the kitchen phone with a click. I could instantly hear the background noise of Grandma and Aunt Ellen preparing breakfast.

  “Hi, Miss Millie!” Dad said brightly. “How old are you today?”

  “Two!” she blasted and Dad laughed.

  “I’ll talk to you later,” I told him, leaving the phone to Millie.

  Downstairs, I helped myself to a cup of coffee, leaning my hip on the counter as Millie talked to Dad and Grandma fried bacon. Aunt Ellen was at the far counter, stirring biscuit batter. I thought about the news I had learned last weekend: that Noah had dropped out of college and was staying with his parents. That his drinking had gotten out of control and Curt and Marie were trying to get him to consider going to rehab in Bemidji. Aunt Jilly had given me this news after work on Saturday. Somehow this shitpile Noah had created of his life brought me no comfort, no satisfaction. I thought about how he had looked at White Oaks before Christmas, drunk and shameful. But he had stood up for me, even if it was just fractionally. Maybe he had a few redeeming qualities after all.

  Dammit, Noah, be a man. Be a man and get your act together and be a father to your child.

  I wouldn’t keep Millie from seeing him, but he had to prove that he could be worthy of her. I had long ago given up expecting him to be worthy of me, but it was a million times more important for him to be a decent father. I could live with that.

  “Grandpa wants to talk to you!” Millie told me, holding out the phone, and I took it from her to talk to my own dad.

  ***

  We had all celebrated Millie Jo’s birthday at dinner here at Grandma’s last night, Mathias, Mom, Bly and Matthew, my sisters, Aunt Jilly and Uncle Justin, Rae and Clinty; Marie had called on Sunday to ask if Millie could come for dinner at their house tonight, Tuesday. At first I’d been reluctant, but Marie explained that her sister Hannah would be in town for the day and would love to see Millie. And so it was that I bundled up my daughter on her second birthday evening, Valentine’s Day, allowing her to go with Marie and Curt; Noah had not accompanied them this time, to my relief.

  Grandma and Aunt Ellen chatted with Marie for a spell, before we hugged Millie and then she went with her grandma. I watched them walk over the crunchy snow to the waiting station wagon with the last of the day’s sunlight sparking on the ends of Millie’s dark hair, sticking out from under her pink wool hat with its puffball top, and suddenly felt a splash of unease. I reeled a little, blinking, and the feeling slithered away just as instantly as it had come. Millie turned back to wave and I blew her a kiss, and reminded myself that she would be back early. The Utleys only lived a few miles outside of Landon, on their family farm.

  It’s just because it’s weird that she’s not with you on her actual birthday. That’s all.

  But I watched until their car was out of sight.

  ***

  “I’ll be there to get you in ten minutes,” Mathias said about an hour later, and my heart soared to hear his voice, deep and full of excitement, chasing away the last of the unsettled feeling in my gut. He added, “Happy Valentine's. You all right?”

  He knew that it had been hard for me to let Millie go with her grandparents on her birthday.

  “I am,” I said. “I can’t wait to see you.”

  “White Oaks for dinner and then…your wish is my command,” he said softly, his husky voice full of suggestion, and I pressed a palm to my belly, letting my fingertips trail a little lower.

  “Imagine the possibilities,” I teased him back. “Hurry and get here!”

  “I’m on the way,” he assured me.

  I opened the door to him minutes later and he jogged to collect me in his arms. It always seemed as though we hadn’t seen each other in months and I loved that. He kissed my neck and my lips, and said, “Camille. You’re so beautiful. Look at you.”

  I flushed, thinking the same thing about him. He was freshly shaved, looking so gorgeous that I couldn’t help myself and caught him back for one more kiss, taking so much pleasure in the feel of him, his taste. He smiled against my lips and teasingly licked the little scar along my top one.

  “You know, I’ve never seen you in a skirt,” he said, sliding his hands over my hips. “I like it very much.”

  “Guess what?” I teased in a whisper. “I don’t have on any panties.”

  His eyes turned almost black with desire, his hands tightening around my hips, and I squeaked a little, gasping out, “I’m kidding!”

  He shook his head, letting out a ragged breath. He whispered, “You can’t do that to me.”

  “And I’ve never seen you in a tie,” I said, unzipping his parka just enough to see the full effect. He was wearing an indigo-blue formal shirt and a silver tie with a needle-fine indigo stripe. I slipped my fingers beneath it, feeling the strength and heat of his chest under my fingertips. I added breathlessly, “I like it very much.”

  His eyebrows lowered, his fingers moving upwards to tickle my ribs, and I was already laughing as he said, low, “And actually I’m not wearing underwear, no kidding.”

  A half hour later we were seated in the ballroom of White Oaks, set up for Valentine’s Day with candy-pink linens and tall stem vases loaded with red roses. Candles were lit in small bulb-shaped glasses on each table. Tina waited on us personally (“You guys owe Sam and me next time,” she teased) and Bull and Diana both came over to compliment me on how pretty I looked. The place was crowded, some out-of-towners but plenty of Landon folks too; a pair of local singers, who had played at Mom and Aunt Jilly’s birthday party a few times, were on the stage in the far corner. They were singing ‘Only You’ when we finished our dinner, and Mathias took my left hand into his and asked formally, “May I have this dance?”

  “Of course,” I said, and he kissed my hand, leading me into the swirling couples near the stage.

  “You’re a good dancer,” I said after a moment. He took me into a traditional waltzing stance, smiling into my eyes as he led us around the floor.

  “I took lessons at the U,” he confessed. “Ballroom dancing. I was sort-of coerced into it at school. It was either that or blanket-weaving for an elective credit I needed to graduate.”

  “So you can dance but not weave blankets. All right, I can live with that. You’ll just have to keep me warm in other ways,” I teased him and he grinned, his dimple flashing.

  “Damn right,” he said. As the song ended, people around us clapped and fanned themselves; Mathias caught me close and said softly, “I have something for you.”

  “You do?” I asked, letting my lips brush against his with the words. I shifted so that my arms were around his neck.

  “I’ll give it to you later,” he said, and I giggled.

  “I was hoping so,” I teased, my tone ripe with suggestion.

  “My naughty woman,” he said back, lightly kissing my lips. “But yeah, I was hoping so too.”

  We danced to three more songs, holding each other close. By the time we got back to our table, I had to go to the bathroom, and kissed Mathias before heading down the long hall between the bar and the ballroom, which led back to the bathrooms. I was digging in my purse as I walked and bumped smack into someone in the otherwise empty hallway; I dropped my purse and to my chagrin, the box of condoms I’d gotten at the clinic in Bemidji fell out the unzipped top.

  Jake bent down to help me at once, ever the gentleman. I stuffed the blue box deeply into my purse. Wordlessly, he handed me the lip gloss that had also tumbled forth.

  “Jake,” I said inanely as we stood up, and surprise was evident in my voice. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at school?”

  “Hey,” he said tightly. “I’m home this w
eek since Mom’s having surgery.” My eyebrows lifted with concern and he added, “It’s not major, but I wanted to be here. We came out to dinner with her new boyfriend.”

  “That’s nice of you,” I told him, studying his dark eyes that, on the one hand, were so familiar to me, though the accusation in them was something entirely new. I recognized that this was masking deep hurt and my heart sank in sympathy.

  He nodded shortly before his eyes moved up over my shoulder and I was not imagining the sudden anger that flared there. I turned to see Mathias headed our way, loosening his tie. He caught up and slipped his arm around my waist, squeezing me for a second, before he said cheerfully to Jake, “Hey there, McCall. How’s it going?”

  Jake didn’t respond and I watched him warily, a fist of discomfort in my belly; I had never seen him look this way. He continued to look between me and Mathias and at last said, his voice low-pitched with accusation, “How could you believe him, Camille? He’s a total player. You have to know that. He’s playing you. I can’t believe you’d fall for it.”

  Mathias went totally still with surprise. He said, “Wait just a minute…”

  I felt only the anger that bloomed instantly within me, replacing the twinges of pity. My lips dropped open to respond, but before I could, Mathias said quietly, “McCall, you know that’s not true. I know you care about Camille, I do, and I appreciate that. But us being together is none of your business, buddy.” He was keeping his voice light and neutral, though not without effort.

  I, however, was not about to attempt any such politeness. I’d had more than enough of Jake’s bullshit. Hands on my hips, I snapped, “How dare you talk about Mathias that way? Or me, for that matter!”

  Jake raged right back, angrier than I’d ever seen him, when anger was something of which I’d thought him totally incapable. Shoulders tensing, hands fisting just slightly, he responded, “I love you, Camille. I always have, and I thought you knew it. I would never play you.” His eyes went to Mathias, at my shoulder, before darting back to me. He pointed at my purse, surely thinking of the condoms I’d just stuffed back out of sight, and asked, his voice trembling, “You really want to be his whore of the moment?”

  “Whore?” I gasped out, still reeling from everything he had just said. He might as well have slapped me straight across the face.

  Before I could blink, Mathias had him by the shirtfront with both fists; though Jake was taller, Mathias was clearly the stronger of the two, and angry as hell. I was speechless with shock at Jake’s words; Jake redirected his burning gaze to Mathias.

  Through clenched teeth, Mathias said, “I’m not going to beat the shit out of you because I actually liked you once, McCall. But if you ever speak about Camille that way again, you will fucking wish you hadn’t.” He shook Jake once, forcefully, before asking, “Do you understand me?”

  “Let go of me,” Jake ordered, though his anger had paled as he comprehended the basic threat to himself.

  Mathias did so, shoving him backward just enough. My heart was going like a jackhammer, nervous tension and fury fighting for equal parts in my bloodstream.

  “Ask him what he was doing last night,” Jake said then, straightening his sweater with angry jerks. He concluded, “See what he says. See if I’m not right.”

  “What…” I faltered, looking to Mathias for any clues as to what Jake was talking about.

  Mathias was dead still again. When he spoke, it was with measured calm. He said, “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Jake’s eyes became pleading as he turned back to me and said, “Tess French was at his place. Just ask him, Camille. I saw her leaving when I dropped Skid off. Skid was wasted at Eddie’s and I gave him a ride home.”

  I felt a giant, ice-cold fist grip my midsection before I could stop it; I swallowed, hearing a roaring in my ears, a rush of nausea in my stomach.

  Mathias said, and his voice was low and hoarse, “Jake, you saw her leaving, you’re right.” He looked at me and said intently, “Camille, she knocked on my door last night. I told her she needed to leave and she was angry. We had words in the hallway, but she left. She was not in my place, not for one second. Her pride is offended because I’m with you, because I love you.” His voice was shaking and I wanted so badly to believe that he was telling me the truth, but there was an insidious sliver of doubt that jammed itself into my heart and then released sharp tenterhooks. I felt the heat of tears, even as Mathias said intently, “I. Love. You. Camille, don’t do this. Jake is trying to cause a problem where there is not one.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this morning when we talked?” I whispered painfully. My throat felt lacerated but I would not cry, not now. From the corner of my eye, I saw Jake’s grim, triumphant smile.

  “Because I knew it would only upset you,” he said, and his voice too sounded choked, as if the same merciless fist was gripping him. “Because it meant nothing. Jake saw her leaving and made up his own conclusions.”

  “I need a second,” I just barely managed to whisper, and I saw the naked panic that crossed Mathias’s face.

  “See you around,” Jake said to my back, his tone tinged with venom. I turned blindly and hurried towards the front entrance to White Oaks. I was wearing high heels and didn’t so much as grab my coat as I pushed out into the freezing and snowy night. Mathias came after me at once and then I bolted, wanting to run away and not have to confront my terrible doubts and face that he could be lying to me.

  He’s not lying, you know he’s not.

  But what if…

  Goddammit. No, please, no. I want to trust him…

  I ran around the side of White Oaks before realizing I was unable to run anywhere in these goddamn shoes in the snow. I gave up and leaned against the side of the building, cupping my forehead in both hands.

  “Camille!” Mathias was right behind me. He was breathing hard, his breath making clouds of energy between us, his eyes as blue as ever and piercing right into me, even in the dim light from the streetlight in the parking lot. He took my shoulders into his hands and said, his voice harsh with emotion, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away. I know it’s hard for you, but goddammit, you have to trust me. I love you and you have to trust me.”

  “But I…it’s so…” I started to cry for real then, gripping his dress shirt with both hands. He looked tortured.

  “I know it’s hard,” he said, quiet and intent, rubbing my shoulders with his thumbs. “But I will prove it to you. Camille, you can’t know how much I want to prove it to you. I can barely make it through the day waiting to see you, to hold you. The rest of my life doesn’t seem like near enough time to hold you. If I thought you didn’t trust me, truly didn’t trust me, it would destroy me.”

  And just like that, I knew he was telling me the truth. I tipped my forehead against him and his arms came around me, securing me to his chest. I drew in a trembling breath, and whispered, “I do trust you. You just…Jake just caught me off guard.”

  Mathias kissed my temple hard and quick, in relief, I could tell, and then he said quietly, “I know he likes you. He told me so that first night I met you.” He paused for a moment and then asked softly, “He was there for you, wasn’t he, after Millie Jo was born?”

  I tilted my face against his shoulder and nodded. It was freezing out here, but he was so warm and we weren’t in the direct line of the wind, here around the side of the lodge. It wasn’t a particularly windy evening anyway; the spruces leading down to Flickertail were thickly frosted with snow, hunkering like giant, silent guardians. Mathias rested his chin against my temple and held me tightly. His heart was pounding fiercely, matching the pace of mine. I whispered, “He’s always been a good friend. And I always knew he liked me, but I never liked him that way. I felt so guilty for it. It always made stuff so awkward. But he’s kind to Millie. I don’t doubt that he cares. Or at least, I didn’t before now…”

  “He was trying to protect you,” Mathias agreed. “I get that. But I wo
n’t stand for him calling you names and misinterpreting what he sees. Goddammit, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything this morning. I should have called you right away last night, told you about it right away. She said so many nasty things and I didn’t want you to be upset.”

  I whispered, “I know you didn’t. Next time…just tell me when something like that happens, all right? Don’t try to protect me.”

  “For one thing, it won’t happen again,” he said against my hair. He smoothed it from my neck with his right hand and kissed me there, warm and gentle, before drawing back to look into my eyes. “I’m sorry Camille. I’m so sorry.”

  “Mathias,” I said. “I do trust you. It’s just hard for me, you know that. And then I worry…I worry…”

  “About what? Tell me,” he said. I closed my eyes and he cupped my face. He implored softly, “Please.”

  I opened my eyes and my heart thumped even harder at the sight of his. I reached up and gripped his wrists in either hand. I said, “It’s so hard being a parent, especially when you aren’t. I can’t always go out with you, I can’t stay the night with you, I have to think of Millie first. I have to, there’s no other option. And I’m afraid you’ll get tired of that…eventually.” Another sob choked out, even though I’d thought I had them under control. I moaned, “And I can’t bear it.” Words came rushing out, as they were so prone to when Mathias was listening. I said, “And Millie and I can make it on our own, I know it. But I…” Tears were gushing now, as I thought of what I’d feel if he up and decided to leave me, if he grew tired of playing daddy to a child not his own. I sobbed, “I love you, Mathias, and it hurts to love someone this much.”

  His face was almost stern as he said, “Camille. I love you so much, so hard, I can’t even explain it to you. I can’t stand the thought of you hurting.” He leaned and kissed my eyelids, one after the other, tenderly, and then my forehead. He said, “I know I can’t ask you not to ever worry, but don’t worry about this. Not about us. Please understand how much I mean that.”

 

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