by Ruby Laska
Alone with Bea finally, Claudia dragged the orange plastic chair around so she could sit next to the bed.
“You know, you didn’t have to tell him all that,” she said wearily, sinking into the hard, unforgiving contours of the chair.
“What, that your father gave you your job? Or that you were good at it?”
“Either. Both. Any of it. Oh, Bea, why couldn’t you have told me he was your doctor? Or even given me a small hint that he was back here in Lake Tahoe?”
“Claudia.” Bea allowed herself a sigh, a deep intake of breath let slowly out, as she closed her eyes and sank even further into her bedding. “I told you why already. I made a promise.”
“What exactly was that promise?”
“The night you went back to New Jersey...well, let’s just say that you left behind quite a mess to clean up. Did you give any thought at all to how that poor boy was going to react?”
Claudia had. She’d thought about it a lot, in fact, but unfortunately that was long after the taxi had taken her to the airport, after she’d cried in the bathroom and boarded the flight back east. At the time, all she could think about was getting away, back to what was familiar, back where she might be able to forget that Andy Woods just hadn’t loved her quite enough.
“I...know I didn’t handle that well,” she said. “And I guess I’ve owed you an apology for quite a long time, Bea.”
“Yes, my dear, and I accept.”
“But you didn’t even give me a chance to tell you how sorry I am.”
“I know you’re sorry, Claudia.” Bea still hadn’t opened her eyes, and Claudia noticed that her face looked paler than ever. “I know a lot of things without you having to spell them out in detail. Let’s just say that you’ve been doing a lot of growing these last few years. You’ve become a woman in many ways.”
Many ways. That was true, even if some of it had come a terrible price. Not that she had any regrets. The legacy of her romance with Andy, both more powerful and more costly than either of them could ever have guessed, had changed her life completely.
“I was such a pain then, Bea,” Claudia said softly, leaning her elbows onto the mattress and resting her chin in her hands. “How could you stand me?”
Bea smiled, the lines around her eyes crinkling into a complex map of lines and paths. “You forget, my darling, that I too was once a spoiled young heiress. You might say I have a soft spot for beautiful, impetuous girls who just happen to be my own flesh and blood.”
“Was I...that awful?”
“No. You were never awful. You were so lovely and charming that no one could ever stay mad at you for long, even when you were a two year old in the thick of a tantrum. I suspect you drove your poor folks crazy, but complete strangers were forever coming up just to adore you. And you just drank it in, gave them that million dollar smile and that precocious little curtsy.”
Claudia wrinkled her nose. “You make me sound absolutely dreadful.”
“And then when you got a little older...lands, how the boys used to line up.”
As Bea chuckled at the memory, Claudia frowned. “I’m not sure that’s quite accurate,” she said.
“Don’t you remember all those suitors?”
“I remember a lot of boys, yes, Bea. Beastly ones at the country club who liked to try to see how far they could get with a Canfield girl.”
“I guess it was lucky that Brenda and Tina came first, then.”
“Yes...no boy ever let his hand stray too far with them, that’s for sure.” Claudia laughed affectionately. Her sisters, excellent tennis players, good in school, exuded an air of all-American success, pure and sweet and untouchable. They’d married men cut from the same cloth, nice handsome men who could mix a mean martini and hold their own on any golf course. “Still...that didn’t seem to keep anyone from trying with me.”
“Well, you were different.”
“How, Bea? Mom dressed me in those same horrible jumpers and knee socks that Brenda and Tina wore when we were kids. I went to the same expensive private college and I lived in the same sorority that my sisters did. So why did the boys...”
“...come after you like sharks after blood? Face it, my darling, you just had that look about you, that sensual wild streak you couldn’t cover up even with a hundred of those hideous peter pan collars.”
Claudia sighed and lay her head down on her crossed arms. “That’s not a very grandmotherly thing to say,” she chided wistfully.
“Well, I’m not just any grandmother, am I? The truth is, sometimes I wished I could just slow you down a little, keep you a little girl until you’d matured into the face you were born with. But you were a famous beauty, from a well-known family. And then you lost your mama when you were barely a teenager. With three strikes against you, it’s a wonder you didn’t go any wilder than you did.”
It was such a relief to rest next to her grandmother that Claudia felt she might drift off to sleep. If the bed had been a little wider she would have been tempted to lie down herself, just for a little while.
“I wasn’t that wild,” she murmured.
Bea stroked her hair, just as she had when Claudia was a girl with long blonde tresses gone twisted and knotted from play. “Let’s see,” Bea said softly. “Flunked an entire semester at college, nearly thrown out of your sorority for your shenanigans—”
“All I did was miss a few of those stupid chapter meetings,” Claudia objected half-heartedly.
“Brought home dreadful boys I know you picked just to frighten your poor father.”
Claudia giggled softly. “That was funny, wasn’t it? Remember Jed? With those four earrings and that tattoo—”
“Oh, I’m sure your father won’t forget that for quite some time. Of course...”
Bea was silent, though she continued her soothing caresses, and Claudia was sure she knew what her grandmother was thinking. The biggest shock of all, the one that struck her father speechless for a week. The one that shook the foundations of the Canfield family.
But she hadn’t known it would end up that way when she ran from Lake Tahoe. Andy hadn’t been about that. She never intended him as another escapade, a ploy meant to raise her sisters’ eyebrows and provoke her father’s ire while giving all those boring old society ladies something to talk about back home.
Ever since the first time she saw him, she wanted Andy just for herself. He was different from any boy she’d ever met. No, not a boy: he was a man, had been a man for quite some time, you could see it in his eyes, in his quiet determination, the way he did his work.
There were a lot of good-looking guys who worked at the ski resorts, but when Claudia poled to the front of the lift line that first brilliant, cold November morning, it was Andy’s eyes that locked on hers with a power that made her feel as though the wind rushing off the mountains might carry her along with it.
She hadn’t even told anyone about him. No one, that is, except Bea. She’d come to stay with her grandmother for an indefinite holiday, several months in the mountains after the summer in Europe and the fall visiting friends all over the country. After traveling from place to place, Claudia was happy to stay in one spot for a while. There was still plenty of money left from her father’s graduation gift, and she wasn’t expected to start working until June. A full year’s delay after college before starting her new job, that’s what she’d asked for, and the fashion design house where she would be working didn’t seem the least bit hesitant to grant her wish.
That’s how the world worked when your father was Jack Canfield.
“Bea,” Claudia said slowly, “did I drive you crazy when I was staying with you?”
“No,” Bea replied without hesitation. “But then again, I’m a free spirit too, just like you were. I’ve never been one for itineraries and schedules. I didn’t know if you were staying a day or a week or months, but I was just happy to have you around. That old cabin can get kind of quiet.”
“I thought you liked it that way.”
>
“I did,” Bea said, her own voice going soft and dreamy. “I mean, I do. But ever since your grandfather died...it can get a little too quiet now and then. With just myself for company.”
“Well—then I wish I had been better company.”
“Oh, you did your own laundry, and your share of the housework, if I recall.”
“Yeah, but I mean—I spent all my time away—”
“You spent all your time with Andy,” Bea corrected her. “There’s a difference, you know. When you’re in love, time doesn’t mean the same thing as it does for the rest the world. You have to take every chance you have to be together. I remember.”
“You do? You mean, with Grandpa?”
“Yep. But that’s another story. Claudia, honey, I know we have to talk more, but I really wasn’t exaggerating. I’m so exhausted. Poor Andrew, I didn’t mean to give him such a hard time. I really must apologize later.”
“I’m the one who should be sorry, Bea,” Claudia said, straightening up immediately. “I shouldn’t have—I’m such an idiot. Of course you’re tired. I’m leaving right now. But I’ll be back in the morning and we can talk more then. I’ve missed you.”
She bent to kiss her grandmother’s cheek, the skin soft and dry and powdery all at once, her rose water scent faintly present even among the chemical hospital smells in the room.
“I love you, sweet pea,” Bea said, fluttering her eyes open just for a second before allowing them to sink shut again. “I’m glad you’re here. Things are looking up now.”
“Andy? Hey, man, you awake in there?”
A low-pitched voice intruded on his thoughts, and Andy laid down his pen, rubbing his temples. That headache had only worsened as he completed his rounds and began plowing through his paperwork for the day.
“Sorry. Didn’t hear you come up.” Andy swiveled his chair around, motioning Rick to one of the other chairs in the office. Lake Tahoe’s only hospital had outgrown its space as the town grew over the years. Meant to house one person, three physicians were sharing one windowless room, and the desk units were piled high with books and stacks of paper.
On the other two desks, framed photos and children’s artwork broke up the monotony. The only keepsake on Andy’s desk was a rock, an unexceptional piece of shale through which a trace of coal ran. His father had mined rocks like these for more than a decade, and Andy intended to never forget the hardships his parents had undertaken to ensure a better life for their son.
Rick Martinez, Andy’s best friend and Lake Tahoe General Hospital’s only male nurse, settled his lanky form into the chair Andy offered. “Thought I might be able to talk you into a beer, seeing as it’s Friday and all.”
“Not tonight.”
“Aw, come on. I know for a fact you aren’t on until noon tomorrow.”
Andy just shrugged, reaching into the mini-fridge wedged into the corner for a can of mineral water.
“Sooooo.” Rick balanced his feet carefully on the edge of a desk and leaned back precariously in the chair. “Who’s that woman I saw you talking to, down in Bea’s room?”
“No one,” Andy said much too quickly. Catching the slight tilt of Rick’s eyebrows, he sighed and amended his statement. “Her granddaughter. In from the East coast”
“‘Cause word is, you and she used to have quite a thing.”
Andy shot his glance up at Rick. Saw the feigned innocence on Rick’s handsome face. “Who told you that?”
“Well, this is a small place. Word gets around.”
“It was Fletcher, wasn’t it,” Andy muttered, naming the affable sixty-ish department head. Dr. Rudy Fletcher had not only helped Andy land the job here at Lake Tahoe General, but had tried hard to ease his grief when Andy’s own father was pronounced dead on arrival to this very hospital. “That guy couldn’t keep his mouth shut to save his life.”
“Aw, the old man just said you and she used to have a thing.”
“It was before you were around,” Andy said. Better to give Rick the bare facts than suffer through his best friend’s endless baiting. Rick’s zest for gossip was just one of the many traits Andy and he didn’t share. “She came out for a winter after college—she was a trust fund brat—and we spent some time together.”
“Trust fund, eh? Yeah, she looks it. That outfit of hers probably cost more than I pull down in a week. Not your usual style, though, is she?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Rick laughed, satisfied no doubt at getting a rise out of him. “Hey, calm down. All I meant was, seems you usually go for more of the, how shall I put this, no-frills, get-down-to-business type.”
Andy glared at his friend, but as usual, the trace of impishness in his broad, innocent face was well-hidden.
Get-down-to-business. That was no doubt Rick’s way of saying that the ladies in Andy’s life came and went quickly. They were nice enough women, attractive enough. Probably all of them exceptional in some way or other, but Andy never got around to finding out.
He felt the stirrings of an old, tired, defensiveness. Not everyone had seemingly effortless success with women, like Rick did. Nor his appetite for the whole wine and roses routine.
“I’m not looking for much,” he said carefully. “And I make sure they aren’t either.”
Rick shrugged agreeably. “No harm, no foul, right? No problem with me, man.”
Andy idly pushed against his desk, spinning his chair in a gentle arc. He’d been abused enough for one day, both by his most challenging patient and by the fates, who’d sent Claudia bursting back into his life. He wasn’t in any mood to tolerate any more ribbing from Rick.
“Women know what they’re getting from me,” he said. “I don’t see any point in setting up unrealistic expectations. Of course, being Mr. Romance, that’s probably a difficult concept for you.”
Rick spread his hands wide and ducked his chin in a parody of modesty. “The ladies love me,” he said. “It’s true. I think at my very core I must have a powerful magnetism, some sort of cluster of negative ions that reacts with the female chemistry—”
Despite himself, Andy laughed. “You learn that at nursing school?”
“Naw, it’s my own personal theory.”
“Yeah, well, since you chose your profession specifically because you thought it might increase your prospects of meeting women, I guess that shouldn’t surprise me.”
“I’m wounded.” Rick assumed his famous pout, and Andy rolled his eyes. The act was wasted on him, but Rick’s boisterous mood helped. A little. Despite Rick’s never-flagging passion for women, he was a good nurse, and a good friend, too.
“Well, if I can’t talk you into that beer—”
“Another time.”
“And you’re sure you don’t want to tell me more about Miss Trust Fund.”
“Claudia. Her name is Claudia Canfield, all right?”
“Claudia Canfield.” Rick tested it, rolling the name with slow relish. “That sounds about right. Has that Grace Kelly sort of ring to it.”
“For God’s sake, Martinez, she’s a normal person. She has a job, goes to work like the rest of us, no doubt puts her pants on one leg at a time...” Andy paused, arrested by the sudden mental image of Claudia skimming her pants over her long legs. An image from the past, tight ski pants in a rich shade of berry, an endless expanse of smooth skin from her ankle to the tantalizing edge of her lace panties...
Where the hell had that come from?
“Yeah. Well, seeing as you’re not interested in her, mind if I take a shot?”
Andy whipped his head up so fast it sent a thunder crack of pain through his pounding temples. But Rick was just grinning at him, the twin dimples giving him away.
“Aw, keep your shirt on, man, I was just giving you a hard time. I know better than to tread into your territory.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Andy mumbled, standing up and shoving his chair under the desk a little harder than necessary. �
��And I don’t much give a damn what you do.”
But that wasn’t entirely true, he realized as he snapped off the light and followed his friend back into the hospital’s busy corridor..
When it came to Claudia, he was beginning to realize, he still minded.
Quite a bit more than he should.
“Ow!”
Claudia reached for her shin, touching the skin gingerly. At least nothing seemed to be bleeding or broken, as far as she could tell. With considerably more caution she edged to the right, hands stretched out in the dark, fumbling to avoid whatever she’d cracked her leg against.
The phone kept ringing, its strident note old-fashioned, impossibly loud in the pitch darkness. Bea refused to carry a cell phone; Claudia wouldn’t be surprised if she had hung on to that old black rotary-dial number. Where the heck had she kept it? Claudia squeezed her eyes shut—kind of ridiculous in the total darkness—and tried to visualize the room as she’d left it four years before.
That little oak table. The one with the stained glass cabinet panel, over by the window...
“Ow!”
...right behind that massive mission-style wooden chair. The one that she had just managed to bark her other shin on. Bea’s rooms were so crammed with treasures accumulated over the decades, it was hard enough to navigate with the benefit of being able to see where one was going.
Falling to her hands and knees, Claudia closed the gap between her and the source of the endless ringing by groping and crawling between the objects in her path. When the ringing seemed to be coming from right above her, she fumbled along the legs of the old table until she found the phone.
“Hello?”
“What took you so long?”
Claudia froze, then slowly inched her hand across the rug, until she found the leg of a familiar brocade chair. She managed to lever herself into it without any further injury.
She really should just hang up. The day had been too long already. It hardly seemed fair that she should have to contend with Andy again now.
“Claudia? You still there?”