The thought seems to brighten
his mood. Our first, but definitely
not our last. And look … He points
toward the window. It’s going to
be a white Christmas. My first
one of those, too. Outside, wisps
of snow have begun to fall. “Maybe
we’d better get going. It would
be good to get there before dark.”
THE LIGHT IS DUSKISH
By the time we’re on the road. It’s not
all that late in the day yet, but the peaks
to the west are tall, and as the sun dips
below them, its failing light is swallowed
up by hastening snowfall. Glad Mammoth
isn’t too far. The food Kyle managed
to get down seems to have helped
his system recover some. His color
is better, his energy level higher.
Hurray for meat loaf and biscuits!
As we start up the highway, the snow
begins to come down harder. It’s sticking on
the pavement, and once the temps
fall nighttime cold, it’s going to be icy.
“Hope you’ve got tread on your tires.”
Just got new rubber six months ago,
he says. And the truck has four wheel
drive. Think I’ll go ahead and put it into
four-by now, in fact. It’s a simple turn
of a knob, and the obvious traction
boost makes me feel slightly less
uneasy. We start up a long grade,
making deep tracks in the road slush.
And still the snow keeps falling.
Giant flakes, plummeting from the sky.
Holy crap! Check out this dumb-ass.
The words are barely out of Kyle’s
mouth when a black Hummer goes
barreling by. Hope the jerk doesn’t
have to stop fast. He’ll be toast.
Intuition, or maybe subconsciously
willing the universe to make it happen,
the Hummer’s brake lights flash,
and suddenly it is perpendicular
to us and drifting sideways, right into
our lane. Fuck, fuck, fuck, says Kyle,
hitting his own brakes and whipping
the wheel to keep from broadsiding
the bigger vehicle. No. This isn’t
happening. Everything seems to go
slow motion. Turning sideways
ourselves. Floating on snow toward
the Hummer. Toward the shoulder.
“Kyle!” I scream as we go face-first
off the highway. Over the side.
Gigantic bump. My head snaps
forward. Back. Someone praying.
Kyle? Falling. Somersaulting.
Can a truck turn somersaults?
Finally, no motion at all. And silence.
STUNNED
It takes a few minutes to understand
I am okay, despite hanging at an odd
angle by the shoulder harness that
doubtless saved my life. Kyle is beneath
me, against the window. “Kyle? Kyle!”
He doesn’t answer. But I can hear
him breathing. Okay. What now? If
I unfasten my seat belt, I might fall on him.
But I can’t just stay here, dangling.
“Help,” I call uselessly. My voice is thin,
and there’s no one to hear, anyway.
I test my body. Legs, okay. Arms?
Okay, I think. A little pain where
the harness caught hold of my collarbone,
but overall I got lucky. Please, God,
let Kyle be lucky too. I have to try
and help him, so I chance letting
myself out of the seat belt. With my arm
still looped through the shoulder
harness, I manage to let myself down
without falling on Kyle. Now that
I’m loose, I can assess our situation.
Not good. The truck is resting on
the driver’s side, nose against a big pine.
I can’t get out that way, and to
exit the passenger door, I’d have
to push it up, over my head, which
would be hard enough without
figuring in the fact that the rollover
smashed it. Maybe the window?
As I work through the logistics,
I hear voices somewhere. “Help!”
I try again. But it becomes obvious
they’re already coming nearer. I lift
my hands so they know someone’s
here. Hang on! We’re coming.
I manage to get the window
open. Strong arms reach down
through it, lift me out. Are you okay?
says the man, who I refuse to let go
of. Just want him to hold me.
Let me cry into his chest. “Help
him,” I stutter. “Please, get him out.”
And please get him out alive.
IT IS COMPLETELY DARK
By the time I see Kyle again.
I am sitting in the warm backseat
of a highway patrol cruiser when
they carry him up over the lip of
the highway. I jump out of the car,
run toward the stretcher. “Kyle!”
A cop stops me. Let the paramedics
do their job. His arm is broken, maybe
his collarbone, too. And he’s got one
giant knot on his noggin. But it looks
like he’ll be just fine. The truck
is definitely not so lucky.
We watch two tall uniforms load
Kyle into an ambulance. Then the cop—
Officer Strohmeyer—opens the passenger
door for me. Might as well sit up front.
He comes around, slips beneath
the steering wheel. Gonna take
a while to pull the truck out of there.
We’ll tow it to Bishop. The question
is, who’s missing you right now?
I’VE HAD SOME TIME
To think up an answer, so it flows easily.
“We were on our way to my grandparents’
in Carson City. My mom’s already there….”
Which may or may not be true.
But I’m pretty sure Grandma Marie and
Grandpa Scott will cover for me.
I suppose I should get in touch
with Kyle’s dad, let him know what’s up.
You better give them a call and let
them know what happened, says Officer
Strohmeyer. I’ll take you to the hospital.
You should get checked out too.
The cop starts the car, turns carefully
around, and I rack my memory for the right
phone number. When Grandma Marie answers,
relief floods through me, and I rush to tell the story
she is so not expecting to hear. I hang up.
“My grandpa will come get me in the morning.”
Hunter
CHRISTMAS DAWNS SILVER
It’s the way crisp sunlight
plays on the new snow,
all sparkling. Clean. The sky
is clear. Brilliant blue.
And I am up way too early.
I wasn’t the first one up.
Scott was off at daybreak,
on his way to Bishop to collect
Summer. Surprise!
Guess who was coming
to Christmas dinner, only to
be waylaid by a Hummer.
Guess she and some guy
named Kyle were lucky
enough snow had fallen
to soften their rollover. Some
cop named Officer Strohmeyer
insisted on talking to Kristina.
>
Mom got on the phone, and
when the guy found out
who she was, he went all star-
struck and forgot about
Kristina. Mom sent a signed
book along. Hopefully, the roads
will be clear and they’ll make it
back in time for the big meal.
Mom’s already in the kitchen,
baking pies and kneading
the dough for her homemade
cinnamon rolls. A Christmas
morning staple around here.
That and butcher-shop bacon.
Been the same breakfast every
Christmas morning that I can
remember. And before that, too,
I’m told. The boys and Leigh
are still fast asleep. I’m sure
Kristina is too. I’ll pick her
up a little later. After I make
another stop in Reno.
HER CAR IS HERE
The house is dark. Silent
in the growing light. I let
myself in with the spare key
I had made and never told
her about. Shh. In stocking
feet along the hallway, listening.
Hoping she is alone. I hear
only her breathing as I steal
down the hall, into the familiarity
of a room filled with Nikki’s
presence, even as she sleeps.
About the time I get ready to
add my own presence to the bed
too long emptied of it, I realize
this could go wrong. But I am
determined to make it right.
Her right arm lies atop the thick
quilt, exposed. I kiss her fingertips
gently. Move my lips along her
cool skin to the crook of her elbow.
She sighs, opens her eyes.
She could jump up. Scream.
Run from me. Instead she says,
I was dreaming you had come.
I ease onto the bed beside her.
Kiss her. Easy. No demands.
Kiss her mouth. Her forehead.
Her eyes. Down her nose. Back
to her mouth, which she opens,
inviting me inside. “I’m sorry,”
I whisper, before accepting
her invitation. Diving in, as
into a warm spring. And before
we go any further, she says,
I forgive you. This time. But
this is the last time, I swear.
“I know.” The love we make
is remembered. And it is all new.
And there is no one else in the world.
WE DOZE FOR A WHILE
And then
somewhere, music. Loud.
Incubus? Oh, my cell. The first
thing I think, as I part the clouds
of semi-sleep, is: better not be Leah!
And then
as the mist dissipates, I remember
it’s Christmas Day, and I am on
a mission. Besides winning
Nikki back, that is.
And then
I pull Nikki tighter against me.
Have I won her back? Can it
really be so? I kiss her awake.
“I have something for you.”
And then
I reach over the side of the bed,
find my jeans. Extract the shiny
red box from one pocket, dismissing
the phone in the other pocket.
And then
I tell her, “Merry Christmas,”
all hot and wobbly inside, like
I’m the one getting the present.
She sits up into slanted sunlight.
And now
My angel smiles, lingers over
the shimmery gold bow. Slits
open the tape, carefully unfolds
the foil. I love little presents.
And now
She lifts the lid from the cardboard
box, removes the smaller, velvet-
flocked box, slowly, too slowly,
opens it. Oh Hunter, it’s beautiful.
And now
She pulls the ring from its holder,
starts to put it on her right finger.
“No,” I say, taking it gently and
moving it to her left ring finger.
And now
I explain, “It’s a promise ring.
It belongs on this finger. Maybe
someday we’ll exchange it for
an engagement ring.” Wow.
And now
She moves into my arms. Kisses
a long thank-you. I love it, she says.
And I love you. And, despite my
cell going off again, she proves it.
WHEN SHE GOES TO SHOWER
I check my voice mail. No Leah,
thank God. But there are two
from Mom. Your Grandpa Bill
is flying up from L.A. He gets in
at eleven. Can you pick him up?
Call me back to let me know.
I look at the clock. Ten fifteen.
I let Mom know it’s not a problem.
Then I call Kristina to give her an
ETA for her own pickup. Her phone
goes straight to voice mail. Wonder
who she’s talking to. I join Nikki
in the shower, admiring how pretty
her summer tan looks under white
soap foam. “Have plans, or can you
come out to the house for dinner?”
She thinks it over, some sort of back-
and-forth in her head, as if arguing
with herself. Finally she says,
I should spend the day with Mom.
Dad’s in Hawaii with his girlfriend,
and I don’t want Mom to be alone.
“Bring her along,” I offer. As soon
as the words fall from my mouth,
I realize that could be a bad idea.
Kristina. David. Donald. Summer.
Throw in Grandpa Bill, who’s eighty-
five, and all the regulars—Leigh, Jake,
Misty, and me. It’s already a formula
for family disaster. But Nikki’s face
lights up. Mom would love that.
Your parents won’t care?
I suppose I should have asked.
But hey, too late now. “The more
the merrier, Mom always says.
We usually eat around four.”
Initiation by fire, I guess. “I love you.”
Hope she still loves me after dinner.
THE AIRPORT
Is busy. Weird. You’d think everyone
would already be where they’re going
by Christmas morning. I guess blizzards
have a way of messing up travel plans.
I wait inside for Grandpa Bill, who
I haven’t seen in almost a year. He’s
Dad’s dad, and has always been really
good to me. Mom says the amused
look he generally wears has to do
with Dad getting back as good
as he gave Grandpa Bill once
upon a time. Meaning I haven’t
always been the perfect kid. But
hey, no such thing as “perfect,”
right? I’m watching a couple
of not exactly perfect kids right
now, in fact, running around,
screaming and laughing while
their poor mom looks about nuts
as she waits for someone too.
Maybe I don’t want kids. Wonder
if Dad will wear an amused look
someday because I’ll be getting
back as good as I used to give.
I COLLECT GRANDPA BILL
And his small suitcase, load them
into my truck. “We have to pick up
Kristina, too. It’s going to be a little
tight in here.” Sardine-can tight.
The amused look wavers just
a little. I hope she can find a few
minutes to spend talking to me.
His voice crackles. Last time
we had a Christmas together,
she never bothered much with
small talk. That kind of hurt
my feelings, know what I mean?
“Grandpa, you ought to know
by now not to let anything Kristina
does or doesn’t do hurt your feelings.
Kristina is all about Kristina.”
SHE’S ALL ABOUT KRISTINA
When we get to the hotel and have
to wait more than twenty minutes for her.
All about Kristina when she opens
the door, sees Grandpa Bill,
and says, Hey there, Grandpa,
how you been? Scooch over.
He starts to sputter, doesn’t
want to complain, so I do it
for him. “You’re skinnier than
he is. You can ride in the middle.”
She throws up her hands, but
what can she say? Whatever.
For the next fifteen minutes,
she goes on about how Ron wants
to ruin her life. Finally, disgusted,
I say, “Try picking better men.”
That elicits a reaction. What would
you know about the men I pick?
I have debated saying a single
word about this, but my mouth
opens and out comes, “I know
about one. I just met Brendan.”
Autumn
AWAKE MOST OF THE NIGHT
Sleep elusive, chased
into the night
by fears of today.
Christmas.
My first far away
from the only
family I’ve ever
really known.
My first, promised
to spend with
the family I’ve only
dreamed about.
What if they won’t
let me in?
What if they don’t
want to see me?
What if they send
me away?
Why did I come
here, anyway?
AND ANOTHER NIGGLING QUESTION
Is
there some selfish reason
for Trey bringing me here?
“Out of the goodness of
his heart” doesn’t ring true.
There
has to be a bigger “why”
than just to make me happy.
He never cared before.
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