by Joanne Fluke
Drew nodded. “Harvey said there’d be no trouble getting out of my contract. Butch Johnson’s just waiting for the chance to take over the team.”
“When are you leaving?” Marian managed a smile. Of course, she was happy for Drew, but she would miss him. He’d been a good friend.
“I’ll wind up everything this week and give Butch a head start. Then I’ll move during Christmas vacation. I feel kind of bad, leaving the basketball team right before the play-offs, but Butch’ll do a good job. I’d be a fool to pass up a chance like this.”
Marian stared at him across the cluttered table. Assistant coach of the New York Knickerbockers! Most high school coaches dreamed of a chance like this. It meant more money than a high school teacher could ever hope of earning and the chance to step up into the big spot someday. Drew would be a fool to stay here in Nisswa when the big leagues wanted him.
“We’ll hit you up for a couple of tickets if we ever get to New York.” Dan’s grin was friendly. “I’m really happy for you, Drew. You deserve a break like this.”
Of course Dan was happy, Marian thought. Now he didn’t have to worry about Drew anymore.
Dan glanced at the clock and set down his coffee cup. “Well . . . I’ve got to get back. How about a push from the most famous member of the faculty?”
Marian stared after them as the door closed. First Laura had left them and now their friend Drew was leaving, too. She felt as if her whole life were unraveling, thread by thread.
The elementary wing was silent as she walked down the hall to her classroom. There were papers to correct before her class came in from lunch. She’d just have time for math class, and then there was a practice for the Christmas program. Perhaps the busy schedule would keep her from thinking.
The room seemed empty without the children. Marian switched on the lights and sat down at her desk. She needed something to cheer her up. She had never felt so all alone.
“Are you there, Laura?” She closed her eyes and tried to picture her daughter’s smiling face. “I need you, baby!”
“Hi, Marian.” Sally stood in the doorway. “Were you talking to me?”
“Oh, no . . .” Marian opened her eyes with a start, and her face grew hot. Had Sally heard her talking to Laura? “I guess I was just mumbling to myself. Are your kids coming to the practice, Sally?”
“You bet!” Sally grinned cheerfully. “We’ve been rehearsing all morning. My kids are singing ‘Silent Night.’ I just hope Margie Kujawa’s got the words right this time!”
Marian looked puzzled, and Sally laughed. “I had the kids color a Nativity scene today. You know . . . Mary, Joseph, and Baby Jesus in the manger? Margie said there was someone missing. She wanted to color Round John Virgin!”
Dan was in a good mood. He chatted and laughed as they drove home. He didn’t even complain when she stopped at the post office for stamps. Marian couldn’t believe what a difference Drew’s news had made. Now Dan was happy again. Today he was Drew’s best buddy. But only because Drew was leaving town.
The line at the post office was long. The lady ahead of her was mailing Christmas packages, and Marian waited impatiently for the clerk to weigh each one. She had to buy stamps for her Christmas cards. If she didn’t get them out this week, there would be no sense in sending them at all.
She was going to miss Drew. Marian stared at the large sign on the wall, reading it over and over without comprehension. THE POSTAL SERVICE WILL NO LONGER ACCEPT PACKAGES TIED WITH STRING. MAIL EARLY FOR DELIVERY BEFORE CHRISTMAS. Drew was a good friend. He’d certainly never been improper with her.
Marian gave a quick, impatient sigh and shifted from foot to foot. Her main concern now was being a good wife to Dan, and she’d make him her only male friend. Marian moved up to the head of the line and reached in her purse for her money. Dan was working now, and he appeared to be coping with his infirmity. She should be grateful that he was pulling out of his depression, taking an active interest in his classes and the hockey team.
At last it was her turn. Marian picked up her stamps and headed back to the van. She should be happy, but she wasn’t. The only time she was happy was when Laura was with her.
There was a knock on the door as they were finishing supper. Marian left the room, and in a minute she was back with Ronnie Powell in tow.
“Ronnie needs to see you, Dan. I’ll leave you two alone.”
“Hey, Dan.” Ronnie looked uncomfortable. “I’ve got some bad news, and Sally roped me into telling you.”
A wry expression flickered across Dan’s face. More bad news? This had certainly been the year for it. One more catastrophe couldn’t hurt. Pile them on.... He could take it. What could be worse than losing Laura and turning into a cripple?
“Well, spit it out.” Dan gave Ronnie an encouraging nod. The poor guy really looked uncomfortable.
“It’s Muffy.” Ronnie shook his head. “She’s a lot worse, Dan. Sally thinks she’s starving to death. We tried to get her to eat, but she won’t touch anything. It’s like Muffy doesn’t want to live anymore. Do you know what I mean?”
Dan nodded. Poor Muffy. He had been afraid of this.
“We’re taking her down to the clinic right now. Roy’s waiting for us. I just thought I should tell you, that’s all.”
“We’ll meet you down there.” Dan gave a weary sigh. “Marian will want to hear what Roy has to say. She’s going to be pretty broken up over this.”
Marian’s hands were trembling as she loaded Dan’s wheelchair in the back of the van and drove through town to Roy McHenry’s clinic. Ronnie’s station wagon was parked in front. Roy’s small clinic was immaculate, but she could still smell a blend of antiseptic and animal sickness as she pushed Dan through the door. Ronnie and Sally were waiting, sitting uneasily on the plastic-covered furniture.
“We dropped Jenny off at the Fischers’,” Ronnie explained. “She’s spending the night with Becky. Sally thought it would get her mind off Muffy.”
Sally dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “Roy’s got Muffy in the back.”
They heard footsteps, and Roy opened the waiting room door. “Marian? Dan?” He nodded a greeting.
“How is she?” Marian was the first to speak.
“Not good.” Roy shook his head and sighed. “I don’t know what to tell you, Marian. I really thought a visit with Jenny would do the trick, but Muffy’s much worse. She’s literally starving to death, and there’s nothing I can do.”
“We tried every kind of dog food on the market.” Sally was perched on the edge of her chair. “Jenny gave her scraps off her own plate, but Muffy wouldn’t touch them. Ronnie even brought home liver from the butcher shop, but we still couldn’t get her to eat. I feel so bad about this!”
Sally’s voice was shaking. Marian reached out and patted her friend’s hand.
“She wouldn’t eat for us, either,” Dan said softly. “You did everything you could, Sally.”
Roy nodded. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat. It was plain to see he didn’t like what he was about to say.
“I ran some blood work, and it doesn’t look good. Muffy’s body heat is at a dangerous low, and her muscles are beginning to cramp. I’m afraid she’s terminal. She might live for another week or so, but it’ll be very painful for her.” Roy swallowed hard. “If Muffy were mine, I’d put her to sleep. She’s suffering, and she’s not going to recover.”
“Oh, no!” Sally was crying now, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry! Are you sure you can’t do something, Roy?”
The young vet shook his head. “You know me, Sally. I love animals. I certainly wouldn’t advise it if there were any other way.”
Dan reached out for Marian’s hand. “I think Roy’s right, honey, but you decide. I know you want to do what’s best for Muffy.”
Marian stared into his earnest eyes and dipped her head in a nod. Her mind was whirling, and she couldn’t seem to think clearly. She had been so sure Laura’s puppy would re
cover. But Roy was a good vet. If he couldn’t save Muffy, no one could.
“Will . . . will it hurt?” Marian’s voice was almost inaudible. “I don’t want her to suffer, Roy.”
“No. She’ll go to sleep, a nice peaceful sleep. And there won’t be any more pain.”
Roy walked over and patted Marian on the shoulder. “I know it’s hard, Marian, but you’re doing the right thing for poor Muffy.”
Now it was past midnight, and Marian was still awake. Dan had gone to sleep hours ago. She was tired, but she couldn’t sleep. All she could think about was Muffy. She should have had the courage to sit with her, to pet her before she died.
“Oh, God!” Marian sat up with a sob. She had to find some comfort somewhere. She’d never felt so lonely and frightened. Dan had held her close when they got home. There had been comfort and love in his arms. But now he was sleeping, and she was alone again.
Marian slipped out of bed and walked through the silent house. Her mind was in turmoil. What should she do?
She climbed the stairs and opened the door to Laura’s room. Yes, it was much better in here. A faint smell of roses still hung in the air. Laura was very fond of roses. Her dresser drawers were filled with rose sachets.
Marian curled up on Laura’s bed. She would just close her eyes for a minute. The feeling of Laura was strong in this room.
“You’re so close, baby. You’re so close, I can almost touch you.”
Marian’s whispered words were comforting. There was a small, secret smile on her face as sleep came at last. Laura was here. And she could hear her baby talking, just to her.
Laura was laughing, her long, blond hair shining like a halo. They were outside in the backyard, making a snowman. Muffy was dashing and chasing at Laura’s heels, frolicking in the snow. The little dog slid comically as she tried to go through a snowdrift, and Laura rescued her with a happy squeal. Muffy was licking her face now as Laura picked her up and held her close.
She was looking through a window at the happy scene outside. Marian tried to open the door to join them in their play.
“Come on, Mommy!” Laura called out. “Come out and play with us!”
But the door was stuck fast. Marian stared at it in horror. She couldn‘t go outside.
Laura called to her again, and tears ran down Marian’s face. She tugged at the door with all her strength, but it would not open. She could see them through the window, but she couldn’t get to Laura.
Marian sat up, tears running down her cheeks. It had been so real! This was the first time she had dreamed about Laura. And she couldn’t join her, not even in a dream!
The minute she turned on the light, she saw it, Laura’s diary, open to today’s date. The blue-lined page was filled with childish printing.
Muffy is here. Thank you, Mommy. Now I’m not so lonesome anymore.
Was she still dreaming? Marian shut her eyes tightly and opened them again. The words were still there. She had to show Dan right away!
“Dan! Oh, God . . . Dan!” Marian rushed into the den and switched on the light. It was two in the morning, but Dan had to wake up. She wanted him to be happy, too.
“Oh, Dan, just look at this! It’s another note from Laura!”
Dan’s eyes snapped open, his sleep shattered. The room was filled with light, and Marian was shaking him. What was she saying? Another note from Laura?
“But that’s impossible! I didn’t . . .” Dan stopped, dismayed. He couldn’t admit he’d written the last note. It would destroy Marian’s happiness.
There was a tense moment as he struggled to think. Another note from Laura. And he hadn’t written it. How was that possible?
He was puzzled for a moment, but then it was clear. Marian wrote it herself. Of course. She used to write things in her sleep all the time. He remembered how she kept a notepad by the bed. In the morning there would be lines of poetry or items for her grocery list. They used to laugh about it then. Should he remind her?
“Read it, Dan!” Marian thrust Laura’s diary into his hands. “I’m so happy!”
As his eyes scanned the lines, Dan was sure he was right. Marian’s subconscious was at work here. She was rationalizing Muffy’s death. And she needed to believe that Laura was still with her in spirit.
He looked up into Marian’s ecstatic face. There was just a small seed of worry as he stared at her. Hadn’t Marian’s delusion gone a little far?
No. She was happy now. He couldn’t destroy that. All this would pass in time. Dan held out his arms, and she came to him, warm and loving and happy.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Her voice was a whisper as she snuggled up close. “Aren’t you happy, darling?”
“Yes, I’m happy.” As he spoke the words, he knew they were true. He was happy that Marian trusted him, confided in him. There was no reason to get upset over a harmless delusion. It really couldn’t hurt her at all.
CHAPTER 9
Marian sat up and turned off the alarm. It was very early. The room was still dark.
Dan was sleeping soundly, the blankets snug around his body. Marian longed for that same comfort. The urge to cuddle up to Dan and go back to sleep was very strong. She wanted to wrap herself in warm covers and sleep the whole day away.
Even though it was torture, she pushed her feet out from under the blankets. The cold air shocked her into some semblance of a wakeful state. She crawled out of bed and got into her robe.
Marian stumbled slightly in the early morning grayness. The house was cold, chilled with the night, and she turned the thermostat up a bit. Heat was an extravagance in the far north, but she’d be damned if she’d freeze before she had her first cup of coffee.
The linoleum floor was cold on her bare feet as she hurried across the kitchen, walking on tiptoe to minimize the discomfort. She plugged in the coffeepot and took down a cup, shivering slightly. Then she sat on a kitchen chair, feet tucked up under her robe, too uncomfortable to fall asleep but too sleepy to really wake.
The coffee was finally ready, scalding and aromatic in her cup. She took a cautious sip and grimaced as she burned her tongue. It was Friday, the last day before Christmas vacation. And she was supposed to arrive early to organize the children’s Christmas party.
She dressed in front of the register, letting the warm, musty furnace air blow over her body. No time for a shower. No time to do her hair. Everything had to go smoothly now, or they’d be late. Make breakfast, help Dan dress, gather up the presents for her class that she’d wrapped last night, pick up her books, find Dan’s books, remember to take the sheet music for Christmas carols, and pack the cookies she’d baked for the faculty lounge.
Marian took a moment, one precious moment, to do absolutely nothing. She opened the back door and stood there in the frosty cold, breathing deeply. Her breath puffed out in little white clouds as she stood silent and watched the sun lengthening over the banks of plowed snow. A dog barked somewhere in the stillness. A truck rumbled by on Main Street. There was the sound of a door slamming somewhere in the distance. Everywhere in town, people were rising, getting ready for work, making breakfast and straightening bedcovers, exchanging morning greetings over cups of strong coffee. Life was good here . . . or it had once been good.
“You’ll come, won’t you, Mrs. Larsen?” Jenny stood at the classroom door, her new pencils clutched tightly in her hand. JENNY FROM MRS. LARSEN, they proclaimed in gold lettering. Every student had five, a special Christmas present from their teacher.
“I’ll try, honey,” Marian promised. “It all depends on how Dan feels.”
“Mom said to make you come,” Jenny announced. “She said my daddy’d come in and carry Dan if he had to. Christmas Eve won’t be any fun without you. You always come on Christmas Eve!”
“All right, I’ll come.” Marian couldn’t resist Jenny’s pleading. She’d talk Dan into it somehow. And if he wouldn’t be budged, she’d go by herself for a few minutes.
“Merry Christmas!” Jenny called out, s
campering down the hall. “I’m taking the bus today. My mom said it was good for me to be independent. She’s in the teachers’ lounge, waiting for you.”
“A pack of Christmas dish towels.” Sally was stacking up her gifts, displaying them for Midge and Edith. “And here’s another pair of red and green Christmas-tree earrings. Say . . . do you gals know anyone with pierced ears?”
“I got handkerchiefs this year,” Marian announced brightly, setting down her coffee to unfold a hideous poinsettia-printed square. “And oodles of talcum powder. I wonder if my kids are trying to give me some sort of hint.”
“It’s the mothers.” Edith spoke with authority. “They give you whatever they got last year and didn’t want to keep.”
Midge Carlson, the only first-year teacher in the bunch, spoke up. “I think it’s sweet. Mrs. Barnes gave me a fruitcake. There was a little note saying it was wrapped in brandy. She hoped I wouldn’t mind.”
Marian and Sally looked at each other and laughed.
“Keep it in your top closet for a month,” Sally advised. “Then, when things get rough around the end of January, cut off a little piece during recess. Edith and I know. Mrs. Barnes’s fruitcakes actually make teaching bearable.”
“Oh, Marian?” Sally looked perturbed as she turned to Marian. “I’m afraid I have to renege on the party tonight. Jenny was supposed to spend the night with Ginger, but that fell through and I can’t get a baby-sitter. It looks like I’ll have to stay home.”
“How about Ronnie?” Edith suggested. “Put him to work as a baby-sitter.”
“Ronnie’s tied up in a poker game with Dan.” Sally rolled her eyes. “By the time he gets home, the party will be over. But you shouldn’t miss the party, Marian. Why don’t you go without me?”