Mountain Song

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Mountain Song Page 8

by Ruby Laska


  “...miss you...”

  That had been unmistakable. Andy lay back, shut his eyes and sighed. It was three hours later in New Jersey. Six a.m., the start of the day. Coffee was brewing, and somewhere a man would soon hang up the phone and begin going through the motions of his morning, all the while thinking of Claudia. Slipping on a custom-made shirt, shaving with a sterling razor. Pulling out of the driveway in a sleek European sedan.

  And Claudia missed him.

  The sound of the chair again, then footfalls, soft ones made by bare feet on wood floors. Claudia had been naked next to him, and Andy couldn’t help wondering if she had slipped on a robe or if she still wore nothing at all. He heard the sound of water running in the kitchen sink, a cabinet opening and closing. He pictured her drinking deeply from a glass of cold water, ran a tongue over his own parched lips, still swollen from the passion they’d shared earlier in the night.

  “Just another day or two.” Her voice was much more distinct now. She must be standing next to where the phone was mounted on the wall near the hallway. “I love you so much, sweetheart.”

  Then the click of the receiver being replaced in the cradle, and the footfalls padding down the hall to the bedroom. Andy reached down, felt around in the darkness for his clothes. Claudia swung the door open softly, and for a moment he saw her silhouetted in the pale light she’d left on elsewhere in the house.

  He couldn’t make out her features, but the lines of her body were distinct in the golden glow. It was his shirt she wore loosely, a single button fastened somewhere around her navel. The cuffs, folded back several times, hung to her wrists, which seemed slender and delicate in contrast. Her long legs stretched down to bare feet, and her hair brushed her shoulders in unruly waves.

  She looked so enticing standing there in a faint halo of light that Andy wavered for a moment, letting the fabric of his hospital scrubs fall from his fingers, straightening his spine and regarding her with open wonder. The heat of their loving rekindled in his gut, radiating out.

  Claudia hesitated, then snapped on a tiny lamp on top of Bea’s dresser. Her expression was inscrutable, brows knit in anxiety or possibly annoyance, lips slightly parted, eyes narrowed.

  And Andy remembered every word he’d heard her speak, seconds ago.

  It would have been so easy for him to slide back in the bed, taking her with him. Even now he longed to twine his fingers in that shimmering golden hair, expose her fine jaw, start there and make his way down, down to the very core of her, immersing himself in her sensual beauty...

  But in the last few minutes, everything had changed.

  “I’ll need that shirt,” he said evenly.

  “You’re leaving?”

  “Don’t you think that’s best?”

  Claudia regarded him for a moment, and Andy could see her breathing quicken, her breasts rising and falling in the vee of the white cotton of the scrub shirt. The corner of her mouth tugged downwards and she twisted a lock of hair around her fingers.

  “I don’t know what’s best,” she said finally. “I thought...what we did, what we shared earlier—”

  “Without question the best,” Andy cut in, his voice steel. “The best I’ve ever had, at any rate. But even so, I’m not sure it’s worth it. I don’t care to share, Claudia. I guess I know how it is—far from home, so much to deal with, it gets a little lonely. You need something to hold onto. But if I’d known I was just a—a temporary fix—” He gestured in the direction of the hall, the phone, the link to her lover, the man who offered Claudia what she truly wanted. The man for whom he was just an easy, available substitute.

  Claudia took another step towards him, then stopped, as though an invisible line was drawn between them. She slowly folded her arms across her chest as if she were suddenly cold.

  “It’s not like that,” she said softly.

  Andy managed a shrug. “It’s none of my business. But I’m still going to need that shirt.”

  “I’d like to explain.”

  “Be my guest.”

  “But—I can’t.”

  Andy resisted the urge to punch the daylights out of the down pillow at his side.

  “Won’t,” he said. “Not can’t. But don’t worry. I’m not stupid, you may recall. I think I can piece this whole situation together pretty well on my own. Now if you’ll just give me my shirt—”

  Claudia turned on her heel and fled for the bathroom. While she was out of the room, Andy pulled on pants, socks, rubber-soled shoes. The water ran in the other room, and finally Claudia returned, wearing an old-fashioned silk bathrobe wrapped and tied tightly at her waist.

  She held out his shirt with two fingers, as though it was radioactive. “Thanks,” he managed, and pulled it on without looking at her.

  Neither of them said anything more as he eased past her out into the darkest hour of the night.

  “You look dreadful.”

  Claudia took a long drag on her tall paper cup of black coffee, and considered her grandmother’s greeting.

  It was probably true, though only Bea would be able to see how truly shaken she was. Claudia had dressed carefully. After a long shower, she’d taken pains with her hair and makeup, then selected a dress of her own design, washed linen the color of a stormy sea. She’d added a string of semi-precious beads that had been a gift from Bea.

  Even then, she had several hours to kill. Sleeping after Andy’s exit was out of the question, and she would not allow herself to sit around and replay the last night over and over in her mind.

  “I think I ought to be offended,” she said, trying for humor. “Do you know how long it took me to do this French braid?”

  Bea reached for her wrist and gripped it with surprising strength. “My dear, let me clarify. You are beautiful as always on the outside, but your aura is in sorry shape. Quite cloudy, full of negative energy. What on earth have you been doing?”

  Claudia opened her mouth, and then shut it again, feeling the color rise in her cheeks.

  “I’m just tired,” she said shortly.

  “Devastated, is more like it. Did you see Andy last night?”

  “Oh, Bea...look, it’s nothing. I made a little error in judgment. Nothing that I won’t recover from. And besides, that’s not why I’m here. I came all the way out to Lake Tahoe to care for you, not the other way around. And I have some important things to discuss with you.”

  “Important, like what?”

  “Like...” Claudia frowned, and reclaimed her wrist from Bea’s grip. She pressed her palms together, wondering how to begin.

  “This is a big surgery, this hip replacement,” she began.

  Bea laughed mirthlessly. “You don’t have to tell me that. Andy’s accomplice has been in here, explaining the whole gory process.”

  “You saw the orthopedist?”

  “Yes, I finally agreed to see her. I have to say, she wasn’t the saw-wielding monster I’d expected. Made a pretty good case for that new joint, though I can hardly imagine carrying around a hunk of metal and plastic in my hip for the rest of my days.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re considering it.”

  “Thank Andy. He can be very persuasive, in his own way.”

  “Mmm.”

  “I mean, I don’t think he would have made a good salesman. He lacks—oh, I don’t know what you’d call it, schmoozing skills, I guess. Andy’s never had any patience for greasing the wheels. He just tells it like it is.”

  Claudia said nothing, considered just how persuasive he could be. Had been. Without saying a word.

  “Of course, dear, you already know that...” Bea added with an arched eyebrow, a crafty grin.

  Claudia strove to arrange her features in a neutral mask, and changed the subject. “You were saying, about the surgery?”

  “Dr. Dupree wants to do it soon.”

  “That’s good. The sooner you do it, the sooner you’ll be able to travel, and we can get you moved out to New Jersey. With Dad and me and—”

/>   “Pardon me?”

  The old gal was quick. So much for trying to subtly slip it into the conversation. Claudia took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about this, Bea. You can’t—it seems as though you might be having a hard time by yourself.”

  “I do just fine.” Bea’s eyes showed a firefall of anger, wrinkles nested at the corners tightened with anxiety. “I’ve never asked anyone for help.”

  “But we want to help you,” Claudia said. “Want to have you near us. I do, anyway, and I know Dad will too. There’s so much room in that big old place of his—”

  “Claudia Canfield, how dare you!”

  Claudia pulled back in chagrin. She’d never seen her grandmother so angry. Never, for that matter, seen her lose her temper at all, at least with her.

  “You, of all people, should know better than to make my decisions for me,” Bea continued, glaring balefully.

  “I’m sorry if—”

  “Has it occurred to you that this place is my home? That the people in this town are my friends? These mountains have been my walls for decades now, my dear. I can’t leave them.”

  “But in New Jersey, you’d have us. There’s all kinds of activities for seniors at the community center. And the club. Daddy’s driver could take you wherever you wanted to go. And we’d hire a nurse, the very best nurse, to help you get your strength back.” Claudia heard her voice trail off to barely more than a whisper.

  Under Bea’s glare, she felt as though she were barely more than a girl. The silence that ensued was terrible. Claudia wished Bea would say something, anything.

  At last Bea coughed delicately and lay back against her stack of pillows.

  “Do you know what your problem is, my dear? You’re still taking the easy road, the one you can buy with money, just like you always have.”

  “What...what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You want to buy me a new life when I have a perfectly good one right here—”

  “No. Wait. What do you mean by saying that I always have?”

  “Claudia...do you really have to ask?”

  Claudia waited, staring at a spot on her Grandmother’s chin, unable to look her in the eye. She did have to ask. She needed her grandmother to spell it out.

  But she had a feeling she knew what was coming.

  “I’m talking about Andy,” Bea finally said, her voice a little softer. Almost regretful. “You tried to use money to settle all the problems the two of you faced together. To pay his way. To buy his education, make a home. You never stopped to realize that you needed to work on things together. Would money have vanquished his demons? Yours? Of course not. You can’t buy your way out of life’s biggest challenges. You have to dive in and fight them with every ounce of strength you have. The only way out is through, princess,” she added softly. “The only way out is through.”

  “I—I thought I had learned that,” Claudia said, realizing for the hundredth time that Bea harbored an enormous store of wisdom. “I know I made mistakes. With...Andy. But I thought I had learned from them. I really thought I had matured. Grown up. That I was...that I’d become a different person, ever since...”

  “...since the day you gave birth to Andy Woods’ baby.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Hey, watch it!”

  Andy glanced up just in time to avoid careening into a busboy pushing a cart loaded high with tubs of dirty dishes. He swung his tray out to the side on one palm while he stepped aside, a trick learned from waiting tables in crowded restaurants.

  “Nice footwork. Ever thought of becoming a professional dancer?” Rick Martinez fell into step beside him as they sought out an empty table in the hospital cafeteria.

  “Yeah, but I bet it doesn’t pay.”

  “Depends. Maybe if you stripped down to a G-string—”

  Andy had hoped to pound some caffeine in solitude before beginning his day, but he had to admit that Rick was a welcome diversion. After driving home from Claudia’s, he’d sacked out on his bed without even bothering to pull back the covers, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep. He must have needed it.

  Too much was going through his mind. Too much, certainly, if he was going to get through the day’s agenda.

  “You ought to talk about it, man,” Rick said, as though reading his thoughts. They found a table by a window, bright sun pouring into the room. Andy pulled a pair of sunglasses from his shirt pocket. Handy for keeping nosy friends from reading too much into his expression.

  But even that didn’t work on Rick. The man had a sixth sense.

  “Grace Kelley got you all strung out?”

  “Claudia Canfield,” Andy muttered wearily.

  “Whatever. You spend the night with her?”

  “What gives you that idea?”

  “Nothing much...other than the fact you look like you went ten rounds. And lost. She that...energetic?”

  “Come off it, Martinez,” Andy said through gritted teeth.

  “Yeah. So, anyway, you think there’s any kind of future in this?”

  Andy stirred a thick powdery layer of non-dairy creamer into his coffee, then kept on stirring, watching the little red straw swirl in the steaming liquid. The sticky Danish sat untouched.

  “You gonna eat that?”

  Andy pushed the Danish across the table at Rick. “Even if she weren’t going back East in a few days, she’s got some guy. So, the answer to your question is no. No future.”

  “A guy? Whaddya mean, a guy? Like, she’s engaged? Or married?”

  “Neither, that I know of.”

  “So, the problem is...?

  “Look, for once can you be serious about something? Or else—” Andy leaned heavily on his forearm, resting his unshaven chin on his palm. “Or else change the subject, which would probably be for the best, anyway. Where’s the poker game this week?”

  “No, I am being serious. If she’s not engaged, she’s not committed. You got to look at this like, you know, a marathon, man. You’re in there poundin’ the dirt with all these other guys. Along the way, some are gonna bite the dust. Injuries. Hackin’ their guts out on the side of the road—”

  “Aw, nice.”

  “Sorry. The point is, only one guy crosses the line first, you know? You got to just focus on being that guy. If—” Rick tilted his head sideways and regarded him openly, making Andy shift uncomfortably in his chair. “If you think she’s the one, you know?”

  If she’s the one. Startled, Andy dropped his gaze back to the spinning vortex made by the stir stick in his cup, avoiding Rick’s eyes. Where the hell did that question come from? He’d never—

  But that wasn’t really true, was it? He’d once believed Claudia was the one woman for him. Had dared to hope she’d be by his side for the things he intended to accomplish.

  Had dared to think of a forever that included her.

  Until she’d left him, the final insult in a string of them. She’d wanted to pay for his time as though he were another of her diversions. To buy his devotion, when he’d gladly have given it for free. Stupid, he’d been, to think she’d sacrifice her lifestyle merely to be with him. But then again maybe it wasn’t fair to ask any woman to live the way he’d had to live, to fight his way up from the depths.

  And when she’d spoken of marriage and family—didn’t she see how it tore at him? How he hungered for these things that she offered? Yes, he wanted them, more than he’d ever admitted, even to himself.

  But on his terms. He wanted to be able to give a wife a home. Not to confine her in it, but to give her a place to return at the end of the day, a place of comfort, of beauty. And children—he wanted those too, once he’d achieved his goals. Not a minute before, because he planned to give his children the gifts of time and attention, gifts he’d never shared with his own father, who worked his life away trying to make sure his son wouldn’t do the same thing. And there had been so much to accomplish, back then, years of hard work and poverty and sleepless nights...

  Y
ears he’d known Claudia would never survive.

  “Hey, you still with us?”

  “She wasn’t the one,” Andy muttered.

  “Wasn’t?”

  “Wasn’t, isn’t—what’s the difference? We never could have worked things out. She wanted—aw, hell, it doesn’t matter what she wanted. Let’s just say I could never have met her expectations.”

  Martinez shrugged. “I don’t know, looked like you met ‘em just fine the other day. I saw how she was looking at you, like she wouldn’t mind a big ol’ piece of—”

  “Forget it.” Andy crumpled up his napkin, pushed his paper cup around the table.

  “All right, man. I’m just saying...well, if you want to talk, you know where to find me, right? I got to get up on the floor. Poker’s at Robinson’s, but you don’t look like you’re in very good fighting form. They’ll clean you out, man. Better skip it.”

  “Thanks for the advice.” Andy attempted an ironic lift of the eyebrows, but couldn’t manage it.

  “No problem.” Martinez shoved back his chair and stood up. Then he hesitated, turned back to the table. “Look, Andy. Give it some thought, you know? If I ever found the right girl—I mean the one, you know, who really did it for me—I’d give it all up to make it work.”

  “No chance.”

  “Yeah, really.”

  Martinez dropped his hand to Andy’s shoulder, clamped down for a second. Then he was gone, expertly threading his way through the knots of people.

  So his best friend was worried about him. That didn’t bode well.

  His mind went of its own accord back to old ground again. Things were all wrong back then, things between him and Claudia. It could never have worked, would have fallen apart under the weight of their problems.

  But...did that mean it couldn’t work now?

  His life had changed. He’d achieved his goals. He’d made it. Hell, he had what she needed now, money, status.

  But she’d changed, too, didn’t seem to need the same things. She was so much more—Andy searched for the right word—independent now. She had her own job, her own life. She was traveling a path she’d set, rather than wandering aimlessly through life as she had been when she’d stumbled upon him the first time.

 

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