by Joanne Fluke
He was surprised when he saw her smiling. Marian hadn’t smiled in a long time. And she was all decked out in a Christmas apron. He had to admit she was trying.
Dan managed to smile back at her. He guessed he could try to match her holiday spirits. He hadn’t forgotten, and he wasn’t going to forgive her, but this was Christmas.
“Say!” Dan raised his eyebrows as he looked at the tray. “You’re getting pretty fancy, aren’t you? It’s too bad we don’t have a bottle of champagne to go with this.”
“We do.” Marian ran to the refrigerator and came back with the bottle. “It’s just a domestic from California, but Gus said it was good.”
“Look in my center desk drawer, Marian. There’s a package in there with your name on it. You can wear it to the Powells’ tonight.”
“Oh, Dan!” Marian opened it carefully, saving the paper. “But how did you . . . ?”
“How did I get out to buy it?” Dan finished the sentence for her. “I rented a pair of legs. Sally picked it out for me. She said she knew exactly what you wanted.”
“She did!” Marian smiled as she pulled out the tiny gold chain. “I’ve wanted one like this ever since I saw hers.”
There was a long moment as they looked at each other. Even though they were trying to be cheerful, this holiday was different. In other years, she would have thrown her arms around Dan and kissed him. Now she couldn’t. He wouldn’t want her to.
“Thank you, Dan. It’ll look lovely with my red dress. Let me run and get yours.”
Dan smiled. Marian had liked the chain. Sally had picked it up two weeks ago. Now he was glad he’d shopped early. If he’d waited until last week, he might have decided not to get her anything. That would have been petty. She was still his wife.
There was a moment of suspense as Dan unwrapped his package. Marian winced as he tore off the paper, but she bit her tongue and kept silent. She’d always been a paper and bow saver, but this wasn’t the time to be picky. They were getting along for the first time in a week.
“They’re beautiful!” Dan pulled out the gloves and shook his head when he saw the tag. “Brooks Brothers? These are expensive, Marian! It says the lining’s mink.”
“I ordered them from New York.” Marian smiled in satisfaction. “Your old ones are wearing out. Now you have new, classy gloves to wear to school.”
“Oh, no. These gloves are too good.” Dan shook his head. “Put them in my bottom desk drawer, will you, Marian? I’ll save them for a special occasion.”
“You could wear them at the championship game.” Marian spoke without thinking. She winced as she saw the expression of pain cross his face.
“Sure.” Dan’s tone was bitter. “That’ll be a special occasion!”
He had deliberately avoided thinking about the championship. There was no way the team could win without Cliff. And Cliff’s accident had been his fault. He never should have gone back to coaching. He was no good for the team. He was no good for anyone now.
Marian saw his mood blacken. The tender moment was ruined. Dan picked listlessly at his breakfast. He was depressed now, and Marian knew there was no way to regain their earlier cheerfulness. She wished she could take back her thoughtless comment, but it was too late. The damage was done. All the joy of the morning was gone.
The winter wind howled around the eaves, and Marian shivered as she looked out the living-room window. The storm had come up around noon, and the weather reports were not encouraging. The highway patrol predicted another three inches before morning. Travelers’ advisories were out. There was no way they could drive to Sally’s tonight.
The phone rang, and she heard Dan answer. Marian stared out at the four-foot snowdrift blocking the street. She had been looking forward to the celebration at Sally’s, and now it was impossible. The van couldn’t even make it out of the driveway.
“Marian?” Dan was calling her. She turned from the window and walked slowly to the den. She felt caged and helpless in this white prison. If only she could get out!
Dan relayed the message. “Ronnie’s coming in to pick you up at five. He’s got the Snow-Cat running, and you’re supposed to wear plenty of warm clothes. He’ll bring you back later tonight.”
“But how about you?” Marian felt guilty at the surge of excitement she felt. “I can’t go with Ronnie and leave you home alone.”
“I didn’t want to go in the first place.” Dan looked at her coldly. “It’s no fun to sit in a wheelchair and get stared at all night.”
“But it’s Christmas Eve!”
“So what?” Dan gave a rueful laugh.
“You’ll be all alone!”
“Actually, I thought I’d sneak out the minute you leave. I’ll call up one of my old girlfriends and take her dancing. I understand there’s a new nightclub in Brainerd. I ought to be really good at that sort of thing.”
“Dan!” Marian stared at him in amazement. She’d never heard him this bitter and sarcastic.
“Just kidding, Marian. At least you don’t have to worry about me. I’m like your favorite household plant. Set me down somewhere and I’ll still be in the same place when you come back.”
“I’d better not go. I don’t think this is the time to leave you alone.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake! Can’t you take a joke? Go, Marian. Go out to Sally’s!”
Marian stared down at him, indecision written on her face. Dan knew he had her worried. He was really being a bastard.
He softened his voice. “Sorry, Marian. I’ll be fine by myself, really. Make me some Tom and Jerry batter before you go, and I’ll watch the specials on television. You know how disappointed Jenny will be if you don’t show up.”
That got to her. Dan could see her weakening. He was making a conscious effort to be nice now. It wasn’t fair to coop her up in the house with a cripple.
“If you’re sure you don’t mind . . .” Marian wavered. Dan was right. Jenny would be terribly upset if she couldn’t come. Maybe Laura would come, too. Laura might be with her at the Powells’, watching Jenny open her presents. This Christmas Eve could be fun, after all!
He was lonely. Dan put a big spoonful of Tom and Jerry batter into a mug and filled it with hot water from the thermos. The bottle of booze was sitting on the bedside table. He added a generous portion.
He’d been fine when she left. It was late afternoon, and he had Omar Bradley’s autobiography to finish. Then night closed in, shutting him off from the world outside. He looked out the window, but all he could see was the reflection of his reading lamp and his bedridden image in the glass. For the first time he understood why shut-ins called the “time” operator just to hear the sound of another human voice.
The phone by the bed rang sharply. Dan pulled himself up straighter and reached to answer it. Maybe it was the “time” operator calling him?
“Mr. Larsen? Thank you for all the super presents! I like the cowgirl outfit best of all. Mom says I can wear it to school! I’m sending your present back with Daddy. You’re gonna love it. I made it myself!”
There was a long pause, and Sally came on the line. “Dan? I hope Jenny didn’t wake you. The presents were really wonderful. She’s never had a Christmas like this before!”
“I wasn’t sleeping, Sally.” Dan made his voice cheerful. It had been a shock hearing Jenny’s voice. She sounded so much like Laura.
“Oh, Dan?” Sally lowered her voice. “You can feel perfectly safe eating Jenny’s present. It’s fudge, and I supervised the whole thing. She got the recipe out of the Muppets Magazine.”
“Hi, Dan!” This time it was Ronnie. “I just wanted to say Merry Christmas. We’ll leave here about ten or so, so expect us at a little after eleven.”
“How are you, honey?” There was a lilt in Marian’s voice as she took the phone. “Sally baked the best turkey I ever had. She covered the whole thing with mayonnaise so it wouldn’t dry out. I’m bringing you some. Just a second. I’m going to drag this phone around the corner.”
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There was a pause and a cracking noise. The Powells’ phone was in the hallway. Dan remembered that it had a twenty-five-foot cord. Marian must be taking it into the kitchen so she could talk privately.
“Are you really all right? I’ve been worried about you. If you’re lonesome, I’ll tell Ronnie I have to leave right away.”
“I’m fine, Marian.” Dan gave a bitter smile. “Just enjoy yourself and come home when you planned. There’s no hurry.”
It was a relief to hang up the phone. Of course, it was very nice of them to call him, but it was tiring to pretend to be cheerful when he wasn’t. Hearing their happy voices with laughter and conversation in the background made him feel that much more alone.
Dan turned on the television. There was no sense sitting here moping. He’d make the best of it. There was bound to be something interesting on the tube.
A Charlie Brown Christmas was on Channel 3. Dan watched for a minute, sipping his drink. Charlie Brown was choosing a Christmas tree. The one he picked looked comically pathetic. Laura had loved this cartoon. Dan switched the channel with a sharp jab of the remote control.
Another one of Laura’s favorites was playing on Channel 6. How the Grinch Stole Christmas! They had watched it together last year. The Grinch began to blur, and Dan blinked his eyes fiercely. This wasn’t a good one to watch, either.
They were showing It’s a Wonderful Life on the movie channel. At least that was safe. Dan mixed himself another Tom and Jerry and settled down to watch. It was one of his favorite films. Jimmy Stewart was just getting ready to jump off the bridge.
Dan sat up with a jolt. He must have fallen asleep. His legs tingled, and for a moment he was filled with excitement. Then he remembered. He’d had another of those walking dreams.
The movie was still playing, but it was almost over. It was the Christmas scene. Jimmy Stewart’s happy family was gathered around him, under the huge Christmas tree. His littlest daughter looked just like Laura.
Everything reminded him of Laura tonight! Dan gave up trying to escape. He had lied to Marian. Christmas Eve was a terrible time to be alone. He didn’t know how much longer he could take it. Why hadn’t she seen through his bravado and stayed home with him!
It wouldn’t have made a difference. Dan leaned back and closed his eyes. Having Marian in the same room was no comfort to him now. She didn’t understand how he felt.
Maybe he should have gone to the Powells’. The van might have made it. Then he would have been surrounded by people instead of being alone.
He played the scenario out in his mind. Marian had said the dinner was wonderful. He would have enjoyed that. And right after dinner, they’d opened their presents. He could picture Jenny opening Laura’s packages, squealing over each new treasure. Could he hide how he felt about Jenny?
Dan shivered. It was a good thing he’d stayed at home. He couldn’t stand the sight of Jenny. It was crazy to resent her, but he did. Jenny wasn’t the only one. He hated to see any of Laura’s friends. They were alive, and Laura was dead. It was too painful. He wished he never had to see any of them again.
A hard, choking sob tore from his throat. He closed his eyes against the pain and fought for control. There was no purpose in crying. Laura was dead, and no one could bring her back. At times like this he wished he’d died with her.
Marian called out when she came in the door, but there was no answer. She took off Dan’s parka and hung it next to the heat vent to dry. Her boots were full of snow, and she brushed them off with the broom. She was nearly frozen, but it had been worth it. At least she had made Jenny happy.
Dan was asleep. Marian tiptoed over and turned off the Christmas-tree lights. There was a dim bulb in the lamp on the television, and she turned that on, just in case he awoke. Jenny’s present went on the bedside table. Now he’d know that she’d gotten home safely.
It had been an exhausting evening. Marian climbed the stairs and went into Laura’s room. The miniature Christmas tree was glowing softly, and Laura’s package was untouched under it. Somehow she’d expected some sign from her baby.
Laura was gone. She had tried to find her all evening. Marian had been so sure that Laura would be with her, watching Jenny open her presents. There was no sign, no feeling of Laura’s presence at the Powells’.
Marian put on her nightgown and crawled into the small bed. Laura was not here, either. Christmas was so lonely without her. She had to come tonight. Marian was beginning to worry. Where was her baby?
CHAPTER 14
Marian rolled over and pushed the blanket back. Every muscle in her body ached, and her head was throbbing. It was a result of her ride on the Snow-Cat. Miles of holding on tightly over bumpy roads had taken its toll. She had to get up and take some aspirin.
She’d slept restlessly, dreaming of Laura. It was the same dream she had had before. Laura was trying to tell her something, and she couldn’t make out the words. Laura wanted something, that much was clear. If only she knew what it was!
Laura’s diary lay open on the dresser. Marian felt frustrated and helpless as she stared at the blank page. No note this morning. No note for a week. It was so hard to wait. She was beginning to lose hope.
It was an ordinary morning, cold and still. The sky was gray with lingering snow clouds. Marian ran water into a glass and took three aspirins. Christmas morning would be a time of joy in other houses, but not here. Here it was just another cold winter morning.
Marian put on a pair of Dan’s woolen socks and wrapped herself in his old army jacket. She sat huddled at the table, waiting for the coffee to perk. Steam rolled up in a cloud as she took the first cup, cheating a little and pouring before it had finished. She held her face close to the coffee-scented warmth and breathed in deeply.
She caught sight of herself in the mirror as she paced between the doorway and the window, waiting for Dan to awaken. She looked like a refugee from a surplus store. It would have been comical if her face were less tragic.
How long would he sleep? She really wanted some company. It didn’t matter that Dan was silent most mornings. Just knowing he was awake would make her less lonely.
He started to stir as the sun cast its first shadows over Heidelberg Hill. She went in with his coffee, but he was silent, as usual. Then she made breakfast and kept him company as he ate. Her feeling of despair stuck with her all morning.
In the afternoon, Midge and Edith dropped by. They were full of Christmas cheer. If she was a bit quiet, they made no mention of it. Sally called to chat for a while, and the Ringstroms from next door arrived with a plate of Christmas cookies. Marian made polite conversation, her mind on other things. In the evening they heard the children playing on the far side of Heidelberg Hill. It was all rather sad, Marian thought. She could see other people’s lives going on about her, but she was separated and alone.
The night dragged on slowly. Dan was reading a new book on the Civil War. She brought in her own book, a popular exposé of high government officials, but she couldn’t seem to get involved with the story. The book was well written and lived up to its jacket blurb, but she kept staring at the page, reading the same paragraph over and over, her thoughts wandering. She and Dan were strangers, sitting in the same room, each separated by little pools of yellow light falling on meaningless pages.
“I’m tired.” Marian stood up and stretched, yawning widely. “I think I’ll go to bed now.”
“Good idea.” Dan didn’t even look up from the page he was reading. “Get some sleep, Marian. You’ll feel a lot better in the morning.”
So he had noticed her quiet mood all day! Marian turned to look at him, but he was engrossed in his book again. It was better this way. She didn’t want to answer a lot of questions on how she was feeling. She would take a couple of aspirins and sleep. Dan was probably right. She would feel better in the morning.
There was a winter bird on the windowsill when Marian opened her eyes. The tiny, brown sparrow cocked its head and stared at her, bea
dy eyes bright. It hopped the length of the window ledge and flew away when she moved to get out of bed. Poor little sparrow. She had frightened it.
Marian glanced at the clock. It was barely six. Why had she awakened so early?
Then she saw it, and her heart pounded alarmingly. There was an empty box with crumpled wrapping paper under Laura’s Christmas tree, and the Pretty Patty doll was sitting in a place of honor on the bookshelf. Laura’s diary lay open beside it. Her baby had opened her Christmas present!
I love you, Mommy. Thank you for Pretty Patty. I’m trying so hard not to be lonesome.
Suddenly tears stung Marian’s eyes as she read the note. Laura was lonely. She had to do something to help!
Dan would know what to do. Marian raced down the stairs with the book in her hands. She had to ask Dan how they could help Laura.
Dan groaned. It was an effort to open his eyes. He had read late into the night, and now Marian was shaking him awake at the crack of dawn, insisting that he look at another fake note from Laura. She said Laura was lonely. That was crazy! He was just too tired to take part in Marian’s little charade. Why didn’t she go away and leave him alone?
“Cut it out, Marian!” Dan shook her arm off roughly. “I don’t want to see any notes. Just leave me alone, and let me sleep!”
Marian backed away from the bed. Dan was angry. He wouldn’t even look at Laura’s note. How could he help her decide what to do if he wouldn’t even read it?
Tears ran down her cheeks as she fled to the kitchen. Dan had yelled at her. He didn’t care. She was the only one who cared about her baby!
Marian’s hands were shaking as she made the coffee. She sat down in a kitchen chair and waited for the carafe to fill. There was anguish on her face as she stared down at the book in her hands. Poor Laura! She was so lonely. She missed all her friends and playmates. It hurt to think of Laura so alone and unhappy. If only she knew how to help!