Warming Trend
Page 16
“It’s okay,” Ani said automatically. It wasn’t and they both knew it.
Ani was pretty sure Lisa was taking just as long to fall asleep. She was back to the karma theory—Lisa was along on this trip as repayment for her sins. She could be such a flake, and yet sometimes she did see right through to the heart of things. One hand on her stomach, Ani quelled the queasiness with steady, deep breathing. Lisa had gotten her all mixed up. Things had happened so fast, and she’d misunderstood what Monica had wanted, and she had already been going to take the blame.
None of that mattered anymore, she told herself. It was best left alone. She was just here to get her stuff and go, not fix anything.
But that’s what she wants, the voice of Lisa whispered insidiously.
It’s because she thinks that’s for the best, Ani answered firmly. She closed her eyes and tried to will herself to sleep.
The echo of Lisa’s voice kept her awake for a long time as it asked, over and over, “Best for you? Or best for her?”
Chapter 8
Paddy’s was an establishment so old that it was currently operated by Paddy, son of Paddy, son of the original Paddy. Specializing in pecan waffles, eggs and steaks ranging from venison to moose, it was a Fairbanks institution. Ani stood in the doorway, hopeful Monica was already there. Maybe it was a good thing it had been three years—most of the undergrads at the main university campus had moved on to other schools, and the grad students who hadn’t hired on in the faculty or tech tracks had also left.
There was no sign of Monica, so Ani got them a booth and went ahead and ordered a waffle with eggs on the side. After an extended diet of seafood and lighter fare, she was put off by the idea of a venison steak, and at this hour of the morning. Truth be told, she was missing mango and pineapple. Lisa was right, too—exercise was called for. This afternoon, she thought. She didn’t have to do more than see Monica today if she didn’t want to.
She could hear Lisa clucking “chicken” in her ear.
“Sorry I’m late.” Monica slid into the booth opposite Ani. She was wearing what Ani recognized as her “working academic” attire—trousers, heeled boots, a crisp white blouse under a colorful jacket. She quickly ordered toast and scrambled eggs. “I worked far too late last night. The first event is a cocktail party tomorrow night, but the planning committee meets at three. You know how all of that goes. A weekend symposium always starts at noon Friday for the host.”
Aware that she’d never had a formal meal in a restaurant with her former mentor, Ani hoped she didn’t seem flustered. It was a different dynamic, sitting around a cook fire in the middle of a harsh, forbidding wilderness, everyone in the same cold-weather attire. She was suddenly aware that her jeans and T-shirt made her look and feel like she was still a student. “Thank you for seeing me. I realize this is all old news, and maybe I’m the only one who cares anymore.”
Monica reached across the table. “I care, Ani. I really don’t want you to be hurt more.”
Lisa was full of it, Ani decided, projecting her bitchy ex onto Monica. “After I saw that photo of you and Eve in the Gazette, I realized I was holding on to too much of the past. So I thought I’d try to make some amends with her and give her my blessing.” There, rehearsal had helped her get that out calmly. “None of what happened should have affected her. People were leaving her hateful messages on her machine.”
Monica nodded. “She didn’t tell me about that until a lot of time had gone by. People can be ugly.”
“Has she said she doesn’t want to see me? I won’t force it. If she hasn’t changed the locks, my key will still work. I can get the stuff she kept and get it out of her life. I want to see Tonk, too. If he’s still with us.”
Monica grinned. “I just saw Tonk the other night. But no, Eve hasn’t said she doesn’t want to see you, not in so many words. She’s in a really good place now, though.”
It was as if Lisa had showed up on her shoulder. That’s not a yes or a no. It’s a hint—you have to guess what she means. Guess wrong and it’s your fault.
Ani’s food arrived and Monica said, “Go ahead. Mine will be along shortly.”
“The health and fitness craze has not reached here, I can tell.” Ani moved an ice-cream scoop-sized ball of whipped butter off her waffle.
“Not Paddy’s, that’s for sure. But several really good restaurants in town feature fresh and healthy cuisine. The Dragonfly does as well, even for a more coffee shop type place.”
“That was one of Eve’s priorities, cutting out fat and salt where she could. I bet the food is great.”
“She’s a wonderful cook. The other night I had a shepherd’s pie that was fantastic.”
Ani concentrated on cutting up her waffle. The remark stung, but there was no way Monica could know what the dish meant to Ani. It hurt to think of Eve serving it to someone else, which was ridiculous after three years. “I hope she’s very successful. And you’re very happy together.”
She was spared noting Monica’s reaction to her best wishes by the arrival of the waitress with Monica’s order. By the time she could make herself look, Monica had nothing but her usual composure.
Monica, in her usual tactful way, said, “Our partnership has been successful so far.”
“I’m glad.”
Monica reached across the table again. “Look, Ani, don’t make it harder on yourself than it needs to be. She’s always at the Dragonfly until at least four, and she’s there Friday and Saturday nights. Her chef is off this week, too, so she’s really frazzled. Why don’t you get your stuff today and leave her a note? Let her know where she can get a hold of you. Then it’ll be her decision.”
Ani nodded. “That’s probably for the best.”
“There’s one other thing.” Monica reached into her chic leather knapsack. “After you left I asked around, looking for some kind of opening where your skills might be valued even if there were lingering hard feelings toward you in some circles. I thought you’d be back in touch after a month or two. The Varanger Monitoring Station looks for new technicians every fall. I’ve been to that part of Norway, and it’s incredibly beautiful. The climate is actually milder than here because of the Atlantic drift. Anyway, I know the station director, and he would consider seriously my recommendation. You could start over. It’s possible you could finish your dissertation through the University of Oslo.” She laid an envelope on the table between them.
Ani was literally struck dumb. She looked at the envelope in disbelief. All her dreams could be resurrected from its contents. Okay, maybe not quite all—but most of them. She could do what she loved, surrounded by the landscape that made her heart beat strong and true, and get on with a life she could enjoy. No more bartending, no more humidity and no more bugs she could put a saddle on.
She would always have regrets. There were things she’d lost she couldn’t have back. But she had a future again. Finally finding her breath, she said, “Thank you. That’s—more than I ever dreamed I’d get back. I’ve been in limbo.”
“I hoped you would get in touch once you settled somewhere.”
“I never really settled. I just lived in one place, that’s all.” She picked up the envelope and tucked it in her jacket. “Thank you.”
“It’s the least I can do, Ani. I don’t agree with what you did, but your intentions were good. You’ve paid enough.”
Something inside Ani settled, just a little. It helped to know Professor Tyndell didn’t hold a grudge and nothing significant enough to mention to Ani had occurred as a result of what she’d done.
Monica insisted on picking up the check, and waved a cheerful goodbye. Ani made her way out to the rental, lost in a daze. She still felt unreal after the short drive back to the motel. Their cabin door creaked open, but nothing—including Lisa—had moved since she’d left.
A wan voice said, “You’re letting in cold air.”
“Welcome to Alaska. It’s two thirty in the afternoon in Key West. Aren’t you going to ask
how my breakfast went?”
The figure under two layers of blankets on the bed closest to the wall radiator didn’t move. “How did my breakfast went?”
Ani opened all the blinds as she told Lisa about the conversation. Then she turned on all the lights, too. Lisa hunkered farther and farther under the covers.
“You were so wrong about her. She’s got a great offer for me to start over in Norway.”
Muffled by blankets, Lisa said grumpily, “That gets you out of the way, doesn’t it?”
“I’m not going to judge her for not wanting to complicate her life explaining how those notes came to be in her office. There’s no future for me here, but I get to start over. And my first stop on the journey to the rest of my life is going to Eve’s and freeing her of my detritus.”
“Now you’re talking.” Lisa sat up, blankets clutched around her and hair sticking out at improbable angles.
“Eve won’t be there. I don’t think she wants to see me. I can live with that.” It would take some getting over, Ani knew, but she had to let go. Somehow.
“That’s convenient. More of Monica’s advice? Sneak in, get your stuff and go?”
“Okay, you just don’t get her and I’m not going to fight about it. I feel like I finally have some control, and making this trip has already gotten me more than I thought it would. You’re the one who put bagging the babe on the agenda, not me.” I know she’s out of my reach, Ani thought, and I have to let go of the idea we can go back and start over. “Now I could use some help getting my stuff.”
“I could use some breakfast.” Lisa burrowed her head back under her pillow.
“At this rate, it’ll be lunch.” Ani swatted the thick blankets where Lisa’s feet were. “Get up. I don’t ask for much, do I?”
It took only a little more pleading and the radio tuned loudly to the station that still faithfully played Lawrence Welk’s greatest hits to get Lisa out of bed. At least she got a thank you for the instant coffee Ani made with the supplies the motel provided. Fussing in the kitchenette helped with the nerves dancing in her stomach.
Eve would be at work. Not home. She didn’t have to see Eve—it was up to Eve. She kept telling herself that, round and round in her head, as she finally got Lisa into the SUV and headed south on Richardson Highway toward North Pole. A pit stop at a drive-thru for a chicken sandwich and Lisa was good to go, or so she said.
The highway was lined with birch and pine sporting new growth. Where Fairbanks stopped and North Pole began seemed a shorter distance than Ani remembered. New commercial buildings had popped up along the highway, and at least one new access to Fort Wainwright had been carved into the dense forest.
“So the North Pole is nowhere near here, right?” Lisa gave the Entering North Pole sign a dubious look.
“Seventeen hundred miles that way.” Ani pointed over her shoulder. “But this is Santa’s zip code. They get hundreds of thousands of letters every year.”
“Oh look—Kris Kringle Lane. How cute.”
“Don’t be snide. It’s no different from Palm Tree Drive and Conch Plaza. Red, white and green instead of cobalt, lime and coral.”
“I wasn’t being snide. I think it’s charming. Can we shop later?”
Mollified, Ani said, “Okay. The frontage on the right is St. Nicholas Drive, and on the left it’s Mistletoe Drive. If you’re good, I’ll get you some candy cane taffy.”
Her heart was racing by the time she wound through the graveled and graded side streets to Eve’s house. It was small comfort to know that Eve wouldn’t recognize the rental if Ani turned tail and ran. But from the foot of the driveway there was no sign of the kind of van Eve probably still owned. She inched closer to the house, noting a new yard fenced off by chain link on the southern exposure. It also looked like she’d redone the cedar siding.
“C’mon,” Lisa said. “She’s not here. How were you planning on getting in? Did you get a key?”
“I’m hoping my old key works.”
“Why didn’t Monica give you one to be sure?”
“I said I had my old one and maybe she knew Eve had never changed the lock.”
At the slam of their doors a deep, resonant bark sounded from the garage, accompanied by the scrabble of claws. The barking didn’t let up through a series of thumps leading to the side yard. Ani realized what the chain link area on the side of the house was and bolted toward it.
Lisa called after her, “Where are you going?”
Ani stumbled to a stop as a heartbreakingly familiar figure lunged at the fence, tail down, barking furiously. Her throat was so tight she had to try twice to find her whistle. “It’s me.”
In moments the volume of the barking redoubled, but this time the tail was wagging hard enough to stir dust. Ani didn’t think twice. She scaled the fence and landed upright on the other side just before Tonk knocked her flat.
“Ani! Holy crap!”
Tonk buried his snout in Ani’s midriff, using his teeth to pull at her shirt and give her a good, tickling shake. Lisa let out a shriek, which stopped Tonk cold. True to Newfoundland instincts, he regarded her carefully, looking for any sign that she needed to be dragged to a safe place.
“It’s okay, boy. She doesn’t get it.” Tears in her eyes, Ani threw both arms around the dog, heedless of the dust and slobber and summer-induced shedding hair. She succeeded in knocking him off balance and they both went over and then, for good measure, her face was thoroughly licked. Since it involved a Newfie, the licking included her ears, forehead and all of her neck in just a few swipes.
I’d bring him to Norway with me, Ani thought, then painfully rejected the thought. Eve loves him as much as I do. After three years, he was Eve’s.
She cuffed his ears and asserted her place in the pack with a firm, “Tonk! Down! Sit!”
Tonk managed to sit for a half-second before rising to dance circles around her.
“Come here, boy. I’ll introduce you to the screamer.”
“Oh, don’t you let that wolf out here.” Lisa started backing away.
“He’s very gentle.”
“Oh sure, he nearly chewed you in half.”
Ani looked down. “My shirt’s not even torn.” She lifted the latch on the gate.
“Ani, I’m serious.”
“Don’t run, Lisa. He’ll chase you for sure. You could be running from something scary and he would follow you to protect you from it.”
Tonk slithered through the opening and trotted cheerfully over to sniff the frozen Lisa. She apparently passed muster as the tail never stopped wagging, and one hand was nosed, suggesting Lisa could play with furry ears if she wanted to.
Ani hefted a pinecone. “Tonk! Go get it!” She threw it as hard as she could, which was a pathetic distance—she’d lost throwing range in the last few years, that’s for sure. Tonk merrily barreled into the thin wood that separated Eve’s lot from her neighbors. “See? Very gentle.”
Lisa was holding her hand out as if she had accidentally touched bat guano. “Oh yes. Very gentle. I got slimed.”
“No, you got loved.”
“I know the difference.”
Ani led the way to the front door as Tonk returned with the pinecone. It looked like it might be the right one, even. She threw it again, and Tonk flew back into the wood. “If my key doesn’t work, I’ll easily fit through the dog door. She didn’t have one before. It’s possible the house door from the garage is unlocked. This isn’t the kind of place where you need big security.”
Her key worked, though, and it was both unnerving and pleasing that very little about the inside of the house had changed. It was still all Eve. Blues and greens accented polished woods, with an antique quilt hanging behind the same sofa that Ani remembered vividly from their first time, and many subsequent times, together.
“I’m going to guess that what she kept is in the garage.” She led the way, aware that Lisa was looking around her with curiosity.
“It’s very restful.”
“Sounds ingenious.” Lisa touched the worn butcher block. “I always wanted to learn how to cook. Never did anything about it, so I still burn toast.”
Ani nodded, her throat once again closed and tight. In their winter together, they had used the woodstove for most of their heating, basking in the warmth as they curled on the sofa. Ani had read her coursework and done the intern’s job of coding undergraduate queries to the professor for the course management knowledge base system.
Many evenings had ended with kisses, and a mutual agreement to retire to the warm bed for warm pursuits. With a pulse through her body like a lightning strike, Ani remembered one night realizing that Eve was simply smiling at her, covered to her chin by the down comforter they shared on the sofa.
“What?” she’d asked.
“It’s tragic,” Eve had answered.
“What are you talking about?”
Eve’s lips had parted in a crooked smile while her eyes looked oh-so-innocent. “My clothes, I just don’t know what happened. They seem to have all fallen off.”
Ani had immediately apologized, repeatedly and thoroughly, for not noticing the theft of Eve’s clothes. Their laughter had given way to a fevered rush of kisses, whispered need, and soft, short cries. The cries echoed in her ears now, another regret, but she could not bring herself to think of the memory as unwelcome. Like nothing else in her life, the thought of Eve’s body—thoughts she’d denied herself but no longer could resist—sent fire through her nerves.
As she led Lisa through the kitchen she could hear the distant echo of something jazzy on the stereo accompanying the sound of Eve’s knife on the chopping block. How many canapés, tarts, tortes, soufflés, pies, chowders, soups, stews, steaks and salads had she tried in that year? Eve would dance over with a morsel to try and Ani would pull her down to deliver a kiss that indicated her rating. Everything Eve made warranted a five-star kiss.