by Arlene James
But Laura was leaving them, and it would be better if she did so while they, he, could still let her go. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth against the memories of a kiss that never should have happened, and he promised himself that he would start looking for a replacement first thing tomorrow. He promised himself. He swore it.
Tomorrow.
Five
First thing the next morning, Adam got up and put on silk liners, then his insulated underwear, two pairs of socks, his jeans, a turtleneck and a wool sweater. He donned his military-grade arctic boots, dug his best gloves from a drawer, pulled on a knit toboggan hat and draped a wool scarf over his shoulder. He gathered up a second pair of silks from the corner where he’d tossed them and went out to face Laura.
“These are for you.”
She stopped lifting plates onto a rack in an overhead cabinet and turned from the kitchen counter, shivering inside her quilted robe. She had dreaded this moment all night long, but now that it was here, she was surprised at the ease—no, the eagerness—with which she met him.
“Good morning.”
He draped a pair of long silk liners over the back of a chair at the breakfast table and picked up a piece of toast, which he began slathering with margarine and strawberry jam. “In case you haven’t noticed, the temperature dropped to a deadly low during the night. I want you and the kids dressed in at least three layers of warm clothing, hats, scarves, best gloves and parkas. Wendy is not to wear those mittens she’s so fond of. They won’t keep her safely warm on a day like this.”
“All right.”
“Storm’s coming in, this evening, they say, but I’m not taking any chances. You can go ahead and drop Wendy off at school, then I want you and the boys to meet me at the discount store. I’ll haul in a supply of firewood and be sure the generator’s gassed up, in case the utilities are knocked out. I have the feeling we’re in for a long haul with this one.”
Laura moved across the floor, nodding, and poured him a cup of coffee. He took it gingerly, lest his fingers come close to hers, it seemed, and sipped without ever actually looking at her. He didn’t sit down. She prepared him another piece of toast and placed it on a saucer, offering it warily. “You’ll need this, if you’re going out in that cold.”
He slipped the jam-smeared toast from the plate and devoured it without a word. Laura set the plate on the counter and hurried from the room. He wouldn’t touch her, wouldn’t even look at her, and it hurt more than she wanted to admit.
The children were half dressed by the time she got to them, but she quickly pulled out the necessary underclothes and convinced them to start over, making a grand new game of it. Wendy put up a fight about the mittens, but acquiesced when Laura threatened to call her father in to deal with her. She hated to make Adam the bad guy, but after the night she’d had, she was at her wit’s end.
She hustled the kids into the station wagon, glad to see that Adam had hooked up the electric ignition heater. Even at that, it took some time to crank up the car. Then she had to get out and manhandle the garage door. Its metal parts had frozen during the night. The skin on her face felt blistered by the time she got back into the car.
The road crunched beneath her tires as she drove toward town. Loud cracks came from the forest around them as the breeze shattered frozen tree limbs. She let Wendy out at the curb and watched as she ran awkwardly into the building, then drove to the discount store on the edge of town.
They bought new cold-weather underwear for the boys, who had outgrown those bought at the beginning of the winter. Then Adam insisted that she let him buy her better gloves, house shoes and a pair of heavy flannel pajamas before moving on to choose several sizes of household batteries, motor-oil additives and gallons of bottled water.
From the discount store, they went to the grocery, where Adam seemed to throw at least two of everything into their cart. It was as they were leaving there, the groceries loaded in the back of the wagon, that he paused to survey the sky. The clouds had built to an amazing height, seeming to grow darker as they grew taller. The sunlight was watery and weak, and the air utterly still, though the clouds churned above them.
“I don’t like the looks of this. I want you to take the boys on home. I’m going after Wendy at the school. Call Beverly as soon as you get there and tell her not to come in.” He really looked at her for the first time. “I hope you can cook something other than breakfast.”
His eyes said that he was depending on her. She nodded, smiling slightly. “I can manage.”
He chucked her under the chin, smiling down into her eyes. It was the most warming thing she’d encountered all morning, that look. She thought, I can’t let myself fall in love with him. Dear God, it was going to be so hard to leave as it was, much harder than she’d realized. She got into the car and headed home, her heart every bit as heavy as the skies.
Flurries of fat, puffy flakes were swirling in front of the car’s windshield long before she reached the house. By the time Adam and Wendy got home, the wind had picked up considerably and the sun had completely disappeared, leaving only a watery duskiness as evidence of daylight.
It snowed and blew—howled—all that afternoon and into the night. By midmorning the next day, it had begun again, and it blew off and on for days afterward. When it was over, there were snowdrifts as high as the house, and the temperature stayed low enough to freeze skin on contact. There were limbs down, sometimes whole trees, and the little toolshed out back had collapsed early on. A slamming door brought whumps from the forest as standing trees shed their white burdens. It was the kind of storm that made every household its own small world, and to Laura it felt oddly safe.
Adam tried to keep himself apart from Laura, but he couldn’t help wanting to join in when she got down on the floor of the den and started rolling around with the kids, helping them burn off some energy. All three flopped down on top of her and started trying to tickle her, but she bucked them off like a horse, arching her back and twisting her hips and shoulders. Ryan was the first to bite the dust. He reeled across the room and bounced off Adam’s knee, giggling and wrapping his arms around Adam’s leg to steady himself. When he gave a tug and said, “Come on, Daddy! Come on, let’s get her!” Adam found he simply couldn’t resist.
It was great fun. It was also a mistake, for it wound up, inevitably, with Laura pinned on the floor beneath him, her arms held captive above her head, breasts thrusting upward pronouncedly beneath the layers of her clothing, her pretty eyes trained on his mouth. He momentarily forgot that Robbie was trying to walk up his back, that Wendy and Ryan were yanking at the arms he used to hold himself above Laura. Right there, right then, he almost lowered his head and kissed her. Only Ryan’s shrieking in his ear averted a very embarrassing scene. Even at that, it was damned difficult to get up and walk away.
Afterward, he made sure he stayed out of temptation’s way. He stoked the fire and went to work at the desk in his bedroom, emerging only for meals and a glimpse of the weather report on the evening news. The fourth day after the storm began, Adam ventured out, but the entire countryside was frozen in. Only those desperate for supplies and those charged with providing them were out and moving around. He filled up the truck with gasoline, invaded his freezing office for more reading material and returned to his bedroom.
It was another two days before the din drove him out into the house proper again. The screams had him running into the den, where Laura was trying to separate Wendy and Robbie. The two were going at each other like windmills, fists flailing. Ryan launched himself into the fray on Robbie’s behalf just as Adam entered the room.
“Ow!” Laura grabbed her shin, where Ryan had accidentally kicked her, and hobbled away to sit on the end of the coffee table. Suddenly the hostilities ended, as all three kids ran to her side.
“Waura! Waura! You hurt bad?” Ryan dropped to his knees beside her.
Laura didn’t answer him, her cry of dismay aimed at the small scrape welling beneath Rob
bie’s left eye. Wendy’s bottom lip jutted out, but then she dissolved into tears of contrition, flinging herself around Laura’s neck as Laura tried to dab the beads of blood from Robbie’s face.
Adam waded in where he thought he could do most good, hauling Wendy off her feet and into his arms. “Here now. Somebody tell me what’s going on.”
Everyone started talking at once. He did it. She did it. They did it. “All right! All right!” Adam barked. “That’s enough!” He sat down on the coffee table next to an obviously exhausted Laura, Wendy on his lap. Suddenly he felt like a heel, leaving her to deal with the children on her own all this time. He covered her hand with his. “Suppose you clue in the idiot father.”
She laughed at that, but he noticed that she was dabbing at her eyes, too. “Cabin fever,” she said succinctly. “Everyone’s short-tempered and edgy.”
“Ah.” He should have known that he wasn’t the only one feeling trapped. Would he never learn how to be a caring, responsible father? He remembered the phone call from his mother that morning. “Tell you what, you guys get bundled up, and we’ll go see your grandmother Erica.”
Robbie threw his arms over his head and hooted, knowing he was bound to garner the lion’s share of attention with his wound. Wendy was already scrambling off her father’s knee, and Ryan was clapping his hands. Only Laura bit her lip and gave her head a truncated shake. Adam’s disappointment was severe. He tried not to acknowledge it. “Don’t you want to get out?”
She smiled wanly. “To tell you the truth, I’d enjoy some time to myself more.” She lowered her voice. “Besides, I don’t belong at a family visit.”
Adam had to bite his tongue to keep from arguing with her. What was he doing? After locking himself away from her for days, was he going to beg her to come along? It seemed he didn’t have to—the kids were doing it for him. But Laura was firm. She stood and looked down at them, her hands on her hips.
“Listen, I’m dreaming of a long, uninterrupted soak in a hot tub of bubbles. Besides, you won’t even notice I’m not there. Wendy, you’ve told me how much you all enjoy visiting your grandmother. You go on and have a good time. I’ll be perfectly happy right here on my own.”
Adam gulped mentally at the thought of Laura reclining in a bubble bath. He was up off the coffee table before she finished speaking, a little hand in each fist. “Come on, let’s get bundled up. I’ll call Mother and let her know we’re coming.”
“Laura, please!” Wendy wheedled.
The boys added their voices to hers. “Pleeease, please!”
She remained adamant, however, as she helped Adam get them ready to go out. They finally accepted her decision, but Adam watched with something close to dismay as his children pulled her down to their level and covered her in kisses before trudging out into the cold with him. He didn’t know what was worse, his own disappointment or his children’s. Was it wise of him to allow them to become so attached to her? No more, he was sure, than the attachment that he himself was forming. Yet he didn’t have the heart or the will to put a stop to it. Later, when he sat talking with his mother in the warm, stately home he’d grown up in, he was almost grateful for the distraction that her problems provided.
The children had exhausted themselves showing off for their doting grandmother and the house staff. Erica had given them lunch and tucked them into her own bed for naps, an old and treasured routine. Adam joked that she was going to be doing that when they were in their twenties and that they would probably let her.
“I hope so,” she said, leading him back to the sitting room. “It will be nice if just one thing stays the same.”
He hadn’t missed the lines of strain marring her still-lovely face. He took her hand as she lowered herself into her chair, then sat down beside her. “What’s wrong, Mom?”
She made a watery sound meant to pass as laughter. “You mean, besides my leaving your father?”
“It’s only temporary,” he assured her. “Whatever Dad’s faults, I can’t see him giving you up.”
She lowered her gaze, shaking her head. “I don’t know, Adam. He’s not himself anymore, and it’s not just his selling the stock. He’s holed up in Kate’s house and there are rumours that he’s drinking.”
Adam sat back, sighing. He’d tried not to think about this. He didn’t like to get involved in Fortune business, but even he knew that it was uncharacteristic for Jake to sell stock to anyone outside the family, especially Monica Malone. “Have you asked him why he did it?”
She nodded, eyes blinking rapidly. “He just says, ‘Trust me,’ and turns away, but how can I, when he won’t trust me with the truth?”
Adam shook his head. “I’m not the one to be asking about Jake. I’ve never understood him.”
Erica sniffed and straightened her already elegant posture. “We won’t go into that now. That’s an old problem, not likely to be solved at this late date. The real concern just now is Nathaniel.”
Adam groaned. “What’s Uncle Nathaniel up to now?”
“Just what you’d expect. He’s trying to push Jake out, take over the company himself. You know he’s always felt that he ought to be at the helm of the business. I’m afraid Jake’s given him the ammunition he needs with this stock sale to Monica. I just don’t know what’s going to happen.”
Adam squeezed her hand, but he couldn’t find much comfort to offer her. “There’s more going on here than Dad’s admitting, isn’t there?”
“Dad’s not admitting anything,” Erica commented bitterly. Then she shook her head. “I just don’t know what to do, Adam. I want to pull the family together for a reception in honor of Rachel and Luke, but I just don’t know if it’s wise at this time.”
“Poor Rocky,” Adam said. “What a time to be bringing a new sheep into the fold.”
“Sounds more like a wolf to me,” Erica snapped.
But Adam was on solid ground here, having met the “wolf” in question. He chuckled. “Hey, Greywolf’s a tough cookie, but he loves my little sister. What’s more, she loves him. Bank on it.”
Erica squeezed his hand. “I don’t mean to be judgmental. It’s just that she’s my baby.”
Adam laughed outright. “Yeah, right, a baby with nerves of steel and a backbone of titanium! Give the kid a break, Mom. She’s known her own mind for as long as I can remember. She’s with the man she wants to be with. Trust me on this.”
Erica smiled affectionately. “I wonder if you know how much like your father you sound at times.”
Adam’s less-than-gracious reply was canceled by the sound of the door of the hall crashing open. Sheila, his uncle’s ex-wife, swept in with a flurry of foxtails and mink. She had worn slacks in deference to the weather, but the heels on her shoes were at least three inches tall. She slung a fur muff and a five-hundred-dollar purse onto a chair as she passed, the mink sliding from her shoulders.
“We’ve got to do something!” she told Erica. “No wonder you threw him out! He’s gone too far this time!”
Erica snapped her mouth shut and rolled her eyes at Adam. “Good afternoon, Sheila, and whom might we be discussing?”
“Why, Jake, of course! What the hell does he think he’s doing, selling off family stock to that faded actress?”
Erica instantly bristled. “I’ll thank you not to speak of my husband in such terms.”
Adam disciplined a grin and got to his feet. “Hello, Aunt Sheila. How are you?”
She passed an arm over her forehead, careful not to disturb her carefully drawn eyebrows or her brassy blond hair. “How do you think I am? Down to my last penny, and Nate refuses to part with a cent, now that the business is in crisis.”
“The business is not in crisis,” Erica insisted hotly. “How dare you imply—”
Adam stepped forward and took Sheila’s arm, which was heavy with gold. “I suppose you could always hock the family jewels,” he teased, “or find some attractive gentleman to support you. Why, with your looks, I’m sure you could find a much
younger man.”
Sheila extricated herself with a pout, but it was obvious that she was pleased by the flattery. She preened a moment, smoothing her expertly coiffed hair with ringed fingers. “I wouldn’t give Nathaniel the satisfaction,” she said through her teeth, “but with Jake undermining the family finances like this, I may not have a choice! What does that man think he’s doing?”
“That’s quite enough!” Erica said, coming to her feet rigidly.
Sheila sneered. “One would think you’d be ready to listen to reason, but you’re as besotted as ever! Did he leave you for her, then? Is that what it’s all about? Is he panting after that aging actress?”
Adam stepped between them, his smile stiff with distaste. “You really shouldn’t have come, Sheila. Be a good girl and go sink your fangs into someone else.”
She narrowed heavily made-up eyes at him. “You’re the last one I expected to defend him,” she said craftily. “Everyone knows you despise him.”
“That’s not so.”
“Then go and talk to him. Make him see what he’s doing to the rest of us. If you’re so close to your dear father, talk some sense into him, for pity’s sake!”
Adam forced himself to relax, and shook his head. He was the last one to talk sense to his father, the very last one to make Jake listen, but he resented this expensively turned-out hussy making an issue of that fact. What was between him and his father was personal, and he knew better than anyone to what lengths his father would go to protect and guide the family business. “I don’t involve myself in Fortune business, and frankly, you’d do well to follow my example, since you’re no longer even a member of the family.”
Sheila flinched when he pointed out that she was technically no longer part of the family, but she merely lifted her cosmetically sculpted chin a little higher and looked down her nose at him. “I have my children to think of.”
“Michael, Kyle and Jane have done quite well all on their own,” he told her, “despite your interference.”