by Robyn Carr
The prospect of going to the urologist for this problem filled Bob with dread. If there was one thing a man never wanted to own up to, it’s that he was having trouble getting it up. Anything else, okay. But not that.
The whole thing just depressed him. Quieted him out. He was starting to come out of his denial, aware that it wasn’t the job, the hours, the pressure. That perhaps accounted for his blood pressure being elevated, but not the rest. He began taking the new blood pressure medicine, knowing in his gut that he was going to end up dropping his drawers for another doctor pretty soon, admitting the unadmittable.
But at least things were getting a little easier in the family arena. Hillary had a soft cap of new hair on her head and announced she was trying out for cheerleading. Lindsey brought home a progress report from school that boasted straight A’s in all honors classes.
He thought a lot about how much he actually loved his wife. He found her incredibly attractive; he considered her his best friend. No matter how hard this situation was, he made a decision he would pursue a cure.
He got into bed with his book while Maggie scrubbed her face and brushed her teeth in the en suite. He could hear her in there, changing. It was cold in the room, so he turned on the gas fireplace with the remote at his bedside. She came out of the bathroom wearing her long, concealing, decidedly unsexy flannel nightgown. She’s given up on me, he thought. I’ve given up on me. She’s going to have an affair before long, if she hasn’t already.
Then an idea occurred to him, for the first time in at least a year. She got into bed and turned off her light. She leaned toward him, kissed his cheek and snuggled down into the bed, her back to him.
He put aside his book, turned off his light, and lay down.
“Don’t fall asleep with the fireplace on,” she said sleepily.
“I won’t,” he said. His pulsed picked up. Hope I don’t have a heart attack, he thought. But no, that heart rate was not a medical thing. It was caused by a vaguely familiar emotion.
He rolled over and spooned her. His hand crept under her arm and she snuggled against him. He cupped her breast, kissed her neck and voilá! The old boy sprang to life!
“Bob?” she asked, a little weakly, feeling something against her bottom. Something hard and strong, something she had greatly missed. She rolled onto her back. “Bob?”
He kissed her. One of those short sweet husbandly kisses that had become routine for them. And then, uncharacteristically, he covered her mouth in a hot and serious kiss. She opened her lips under his and answered in passion. Then he rose above her and said, “I’ve been to the doctor. Turns out, it was probably my blood pressure medicine, which I changed about a week ago.”
“You didn’t say anything,” she said, startled.
“Well, I wasn’t all that optimistic that the cure would be an easy one.”
“Oh my God, Bob! You did this for me!”
He kissed her again. “I did this for us,” he said, lifting that boring old granny gown and snaking his hand underneath. “I think we need to spend more time together,” he said.
Late February arrived and Pete was invited to Sunday dinner at George’s. “Aunt Clare has a boyfriend,” Hillary said in awe.
“It is too totally weird, seeing your mother kiss the football coach,” Jason said, and Pete reached out and palmed his head, giving it a rough shake, making him laugh.
When it was just the sisters in the kitchen, Sarah put a hand on her still-flat tummy and said, “I’m going to have to trot my boyfriend out pretty soon. I should probably spring him on the kids before I start to show.”
“Which is just around the corner,” Clare pointed out.
“Did you know he came over here one evening and talked to Dad?”
“When did that happen?” Maggie asked, picking up plates.
“A few weeks ago. Right after I told Dad about the baby. He wanted to be sure Dad knew he wasn’t running for his life, I guess.”
“How’d it go?”
“Well, there weren’t any punches thrown,” Sarah said.
“Are you still skiing every Monday?” Clare asked. “Because I’m not sure that’s such a great idea.”
“Sam worries about that, too. I’m just about done skiing.”
“I like the sound of that, that he’s concerned.”
“He’s a little overprotective,” she said.
Was it solicitude and courtesy? Sam just being responsible? Clare wondered.
“I suppose I could go a little easier. Tomorrow will probably be my last Monday chasing the ski patrol around the slopes.”
“I could wangle a day off from Dad,” Clare said. “I worked six straight days last week and I’m supposed to be part-time now, so I can work on the old house. Why don’t I go with you? If you ski with me, you’ll take it lots easier.” And, Clare thought, it’s time to see them together. She believed she would be able to tell much from the way they interacted, the way they looked at each other.
“Have you gotten over your urge to end his life?” Sarah asked.
“I think I can control myself now.”
“Then okay. That would be fine,” Sarah said. “I might not go home with you, however.”
Maggie fluffed Sarah’s curls. “Are you happy, honey?”
There was no hesitation. Her smile was quick and genuine. “I am.” She shrugged. “My timing could be better, but my life couldn’t. He makes me very happy.”
Clare took the day off from the store and picked Sarah up at ten in the morning. They stuck to the tamer slopes, skiing for a couple of hours without seeing Sam. Clare was looking for him, eyeballing every ski patrol who crossed their paths. “Did you ever wonder if they hire these guys by looks?” she asked Sarah.
“Ski patrol and firemen,” Sarah said. “Calendar boys. Here he comes,” she said, pointing up the hill. Sam was traversing down the slope in sleek, wide turns, punching through the powder, a rooster tail of white crystal flying up behind him. It was a magnificent sight. “The best-looking one out here.”
He came to a stop in front of them. He popped up his goggles and with that heart-melting grin said, “Hi, girls.” He leaned toward Sarah and gave her a little peck on the cheek. “You’re behaving. That makes me happy.” Then, “Clare. How’s it going?”
“Good. And she’s only behaving because she’s with me. I just don’t have any stamina this year. I’m already exhausted.”
“You’ll get it back.”
The sound of distant twittering could be heard. Clare popped off her glove and reached into her snow pants to find her phone. She scooted away a bit to take a call from Pete. She put the phone to one ear and covered her other ear with her hand. While she listened, she watched Sam and Sarah. He looked down at Sarah and Clare saw her sister had his complete attention. She couldn’t see Sam’s eyes, but she thought if she could she would see something more than solicitude there. She watched as Sam took off a glove and touched Sarah’s face, tilting it upward to say something that made Sarah smile, then laugh.
“What?” she said to Pete. “What did you say?”
“I said, Jason cut school. The gossip is that he’s up there, snowboarding.”
“How would he manage that?”
“Stan drove to school today. Did you tell him you were going up there with Sarah?”
“No. Since we haven’t said anything to the kids about Sarah and Sam, he wouldn’t know they’re up here on Mondays. And I haven’t seen him.”
“Well, if he saw you, he probably ran for his life.”
“Oh, he’s in so much trouble!” she said. “Thanks for the tip.”
She put the phone away and went back to Sarah and Sam. “My confidential informant at Centennial tells me Jason skipped school and is rumored to be up here snowboarding.”
“I haven’t seen him,” Sam said. “They groom the hills on Tuesday—so Monday’s a pretty light day. Not that many people out there.”
“He’d be bored on these hills,” Clare said.
“That little brat,” Sarah said. “Bet I know where he is. Rest a minute, Clare. I’ll be right back.” She took off for the lift on the other side of the intermediate hill she’d been skiing with Clare.
“You be careful!” Sam yelled after her.
“I’m always careful!” she yelled back.
Sarah moved quickly toward the lift. Jason would have headed for the harder, longer slopes, probably the expert runs or snowboard park. And Sam would have spent much of the day around them, too, so if Sam hadn’t seen Jason there were only two possibilities. Either Jason saw one of them—Sam, Sarah or Clare—and left before getting caught, or went into the restricted areas to stay out of sight.
She looked over at Sam and Clare as the lift scooped her up and carried her upward. Good, she thought. Let them talk awhile. Get any unfinished business sorted out and behind them. They all had many, many years ahead of them as family. There was no point in being haunted by old romances. And Sam would have to be sure, once and for all, whether he could move ahead without having any feelings stuck in the past.
It was impossible for Sarah to love any two people more—Clare and Sam. She needed them both in her life, and without the slightest hint of complications.
She got off the lift at the crest of the hill known as the Crown, a challenging slope for advanced skiers and snowboarders. She looked around and down. She didn’t see Jason’s purple stocking cap anywhere. To her left were red flags and a warning sign, no ski patrols beyond this point. She had no intention of skiing in a restricted area—she just wanted to look down the slope and see if anyone was there. She moved cautiously across the ridge past a small stand of trees and scanned the landscape. Nothing. Thank God. Maybe he did have a brain.
Just as she was about to go back to the expert slope and make a run down to Clare and Sam, she caught something out of the corner of her eye. And it was purple. There were two of them. They were coming from the far south of a hill that when it was open was known as Big Bear. The stupid little fool. She was going to go get him and when she caught him, beat him senseless. He was about halfway down when she pushed off.
As Sarah neared the lift, Sam looked back at Clare, and she saw a wistful look in his eyes. She immediately thought, oh no! He can’t still be pining! “My sister is very happy, Sam.”
“I think pregnancy agrees with her,” he said. “Want to go sit down for a while?”
“I don’t want to keep you from your job,” she said. “I’m fine. I’ll just wait here.”
“You look content. Happy. Life must be treating you well.”
I’m not real content at the moment, she thought. I don’t know how to handle this. She looked in the direction Sarah had gone and saw her getting on the lift. “Yeah,” she said, somewhat absently. “Great. I’m great.”
“Okay, you’re not that happy,” he said. “Well, I’m sorry about that, but I think we’re all doing pretty well, considering how awkward this has been—me and Sarah. You. Maggie. Your dad. Did Maggie tell you she came to see me? At work?”
“Yeah, I knew that was going to happen. How’d it go?”
He shrugged. “It was half an ass chewing and half a warning that Sarah might not be as rock solid as she appears. Maggie told me about the nervous breakdown. It’s really hard for me to grasp. She’s not like that with me.” His voice had become soft. Almost soothing.
“She hates that we think she’s fragile. It makes her furious. Did you tell her what Maggie said?”
“I did. You’re right, it makes her furious. But I talked her down—I think she understands Maggie meant well. I’m glad to have a chance to talk to you about it. Sarah told me everything—from those crazy growing-up years and all the wild oats, to the time following your mother’s death. She’s been through a lot, but I think she’s stronger now.” He chuckled. “She must have really been something when she was a kid. Now that, I believe.”
“I’m amazed you told her.”
“Of course I told her, Clare. We had a couple of very long discussions about it and I’m confident that she’s all right. I don’t think you have to worry about that anymore. Let me worry about it.”
“Sam, she is so in love with you, it’s almost painful to watch. If you hurt her, I don’t know what it will do to her.”
“I’m not going to hurt her, Clare. You have to believe me. I’m going to do the right thing. I want to do the right thing.”
“Good,” she said.
He cocked his head to one side and said, “It seems like there’s something you want to say to me. Let’s get it out.”
“No, there’s nothing.”
“For Sarah, Clare. She’s completely devoted to you. If there’s anything you wonder about, let’s clear the air.”
“Well,” she said, hesitatingly.
“Say it.”
She took a breath. “You seeing Sarah…It didn’t have anything to do with me, did it?”
His brow furrowed. “In what way?”
“You weren’t trying to get back at me? By taking up with my little sister?”
“How would that get back at you? I guess I don’t get it.”
“I know you thought you were in love with me and I hurt you. You might’ve been needy. Or, I don’t know. Angry.”
His grin was suddenly huge. “Aw, Jesus, the way you women think.”
“Well you have to admit, it’s pretty strange that we’d only broken it off by a month or so when—”
“When Sarah laid her trap for me and I fell right into it?” He laughed. “Clare, you’re a great catch, no kidding, but if you hadn’t cut me loose, I wouldn’t have Sarah.” He whistled. “You have absolutely no idea what I have now. All that I have.”
Whatever that look was that had crossed his features, she must have mistaken its meaning. God, it wasn’t for her! she suddenly realized. It was for Sarah! “You almost sound as though you’re in love with her.”
“Do I now?” he asked. “I never believed you for a second, you know—that there was someone out there who would be perfect for me. Breaking it off was the best thing you could ever have done for me because I would have never even looked at Sarah if we were together.” He shrugged. “I’m just a plain old one-woman man. And…I didn’t know I could be this happy.”
“Oh, God,” she said. “Oh, Sam!”
“You knew what you were doing, Clare. It wasn’t right. This is.”
“Sam, that’s wonderful.” Clare threw her arms around him and hugged his neck. “That’s so wonderful!”
He almost fell over from her assault, but righted himself and laughed at her. “Does this mean you’re not disappointed that I’m completely over you?” he asked.
“You’ll just never know—”
His radio sputtered. “We’ve got skiers in restricted areas. Big Bear.”
“Sarah!” He bent and popped the bindings, stepping out of his skis.
“She wouldn’t go in a restricted area,” Clare said.
He put the skis over his shoulder and started to jog away from her. “She would if Jason were there!”
A couple of ski patrols ran out of the pro shop and headed for snowmobiles. A couple more jumped on the lift Sarah had used. They’d go up to the ridge, but these patrols were not going to go into restricted areas. Skiers knew they went there at their own risk. Sam ran to a stand of snowmobiles, propped his skis on the back, strapped them in and fired up the machine. The advanced hill nearest Big Bear was too steep for the snowmobile; he could better access the area from the ridge above the intermediate grade. Skiers were coming down the hill and he kept his ride as close to the trees as he could without grazing any of them. When he got to the top, he drove along the ridge and up the next slope to a higher one. When he got to the top of the expert hill to the north of Big Bear, he got off and put on his skis. Going through the red flags, he made his way as quickly as possible to the top of the Big Bear run.
About halfway down the hill he saw a skier and snowboarder, stopped. Talking
. Sarah had gone in pursuit. He wasn’t going to follow her, but watch her descent, and when she was out of danger, he’d take the expert hill down. And spank the daylights out of her. “That damn woman,” he muttered. Then he heard a loud crack and a rumble and said, “Son of a bitch!”
Jason was wedging right and left when he saw his aunt Sarah’s pink bib and jacket—coming down the hill after him. He put a little speed into it and then asked himself why bother—she’d catch him anyway and his ass would be in a sling. So he wedged right and stopped. Stan kept going. He was going to get out of harm’s way.
She came upon him easily, sending up a spray of snow as she stopped. She whacked him right up the side of the head with one mittened hand. “You little jerk,” she said. “You’re an idiot.”
“Hey, Sarah, cut me some slack.”
“Slack? In your dreams. When we get down I’m going to have to hold your mother back.”
“I saw you guys—and we’d already spent a bunch of money on the lift, so we just thought we’d stay outta sight and get a couple of runs in before going home.”
“You cut school! You’re on a restricted hill! You’re history!”
There was a loud boom. They turned and looked up. A heavy shelf of snow had broken off the ridge and hit the hill above and just barely to the right of them. If they stayed where they were, it was going to bury them.
“Go, go, go!” she yelled, though she could barely be heard against the thundering noise of the avalanche. “Outrun it, Jason! Go!”
Sarah couldn’t do anything but fly. She jabbed her poles into the snow, flipped around and took off. She couldn’t help Jason, couldn’t give him speed. All she could do was pray that he’d know what to do. It was every man for himself. The avalanche was coming down to the right, so she cut down and left, tucked her poles and prayed. She neared the tree line that separated the runs and cut as close as she dared, as far from the avalanche as she could get and keep going down. She weaved in and out of the widely separated trees near the run, but where they got thicker, she was forced to stay out. There was too much growth, rocks and junk to go through the bush to the run on the other side of the tree line that separated the slopes.