Mountain Song

by Ruby Laska

  But what about this Paul? In the dozens of times he’d gone over it in his mind since last night, his thoughts always came back to the other man in her life, the man she missed, the man she loved. And yet, he couldn’t imagine Claudia sharing her bed with him last night, loving him the way she had, if there was truly another relationship in her life.

  Not to mention that aging foil packet in her purse, the one she said hadn’t seen service in months or even years...how did that fit into the picture?

  She loved Paul, she said. But she also admitted she wanted Andy. Could it be that there was no passion between them, as he’d accused?

  Was there room between them for him to gain a foothold—and take her away?

  Dizzy with the possibility, Andy made a decision.

  He was going to find out.

  Claudia banged her elbow getting into the rental car and cursed under her breath. She missed her car at home. It was a Honda minivan, bought not long after Paul was born. It had plenty of room for a car seat and all the supplies her life suddenly seemed to need when he arrived.

  It wasn’t fancy, but it was comfortable and it was hers. In fact it was the first thing she’d ever paid for with her own money, money she’d earned with the designs she created. She wrote the checks every month with a sense of pride until the car belonged one hundred per cent to her.

  She missed her apartment, too. The cozy living room with a giant Lego masterpiece-in-process sitting on the coffee table. Her study, with her sewing table and the brightly-colored fabric swatches and stacks of sketchbooks.

  Most of all she missed Paul. This was the longest she’d ever been away from him. For that matter, this was the only time she’d ever left him for more than an occasional overnight with his cousins or his Grandpa. ”I love you, Mama,” he said each time she called. “I miss you.” But he also told her how much fun he was having with his baby-sitter, Elizabeth, and with his Aunt Tina and his cousins. He told her how they’d gone to Grandpa’s office to take him out to lunch.

  “I got a frankfurter. It’s like a hot dog but different,” he reported with great solemnity.

  She’d made her Dad promise not to spoil Paul too much. She sighed. At least Elizabeth would keep things under control. She was determined that Paul would have a normal childhood, not shut away somewhere in a mansion, being driven to school in a private car.

  Shut away in a mansion. Just like she’d threatened to do to Bea.

  Claudia spread the sheet of directions on her knee, re-reading the notes she’d taken. At least Andy had agreed to see her. Even asked her to dinner. A late dinner, after he finished up at the hospital, but that was okay with her. It gave her more time to think.

  And to work on her courage.

  Claudia pulled out of Bea’s driveway and drove through the streets of town in the descending twilight. Everything was familiar, but different. That winter she’d traveled from the ski slopes to Bea’s to Andy’s. To restaurants, now and then, but mostly she picked up carryout to take with her to Andy’s. He’d been sensitive about that. Didn’t like her to pay for things.

  She hadn’t understood that then, but now she did. Now she knew what it meant to support herself, to buy things with money she’d earned rather than being given. She’d owed Andy a greater appreciation for his point of view.

  But that wasn’t her biggest debt to Andy Woods.

  Of course, without Bea, she might have been able to avoid facing up to this particular responsibility. That was the thing about Bea: she was never wrong, at least not on the big things. Ever since the day Claudia let her father convince her to put Andy forever in her past, she’d known deep inside she’d robbed Andy. She owed him the knowledge that they had a child together. Maybe even the chance to be a part of Paul’s life, if he wanted. Not that he would, since his life was too busy for two people. But she’d owed him that chance.

  It had taken Bea to point out last night that she could still make good on that debt. Late, it was true. But as Bea said, Andy deserved to know.

  Of course, that would be the end of their...of whatever it was between them. Had to be. If Andy was going to know about Paul, maybe even want to meet him someday, it would be best if everything was kept as clean as possible. No messy entanglements.

  For Paul’s sake, surely they could manage that.

  Claudia was so distracted in her thoughts that she almost missed the narrow road leading up into the woods. Checking her directions, she managed a lurching turn, and slowed as she ascended the forested slope. The houses were more sparse here, set back in the pines.

  There it was. The number painted on the mailbox at the edge of the road matched her the one she’d written in her directions. Claudia turned onto the gravel drive, then slowly cut the ignition and got out of the car, all the while staring at Andy’s house.

  It was wonderful, exactly the place she would have designed herself. Not huge or extravagant, the cedar-sided cabin was simple, unassuming, and perfectly inviting. It had a porch that ran all along the front of the house and continued around the sides. A couple of rockers clustered around a twig table, the sort of table where a tray of lemonade and gingersnaps would be at home.

  In the upper windows, petunias and ivy spilled out of flower boxes. More flowers bloomed in tin and copper tubs clustered on the front steps.

  Andy appeared at the door, and Claudia realized he must have seen her arrive through the big picture window.

  “Come on in,” he said uncertainly, his smile a little strained. She realized with surprise that he was nervous.

  “Your house—it’s beautiful,” she said, stepping by him and glancing around the room. Like the outside, it was furnished simply, with warm wood wainscoting and oversized chairs and ottomans surrounding a fireplace.

  “Yeah, well, it suits me,” Andy said, an edge to his voice. “It’s nothing extravagant...”

  “Oh, no, it’s perfect,” Claudia cut in quickly.

  “Not what you’re used to.”

  It was Claudia’s turn to bristle, but she kept silent, wondering if Andy would be surprised to know that she lived in a two-bedroom apartment. Clearly he still thought she was living high off her father’s money. Well, the only way to battle that perception, unfortunately, was to show him with her words and actions. Protesting would just deepen his conviction that she was the same spoiled debutante she used to be.

  Not that it mattered, really. She was here to give him some news that was guaranteed to take his mind off of everything else. And render his opinion of her a lot less important.

  “I...have some things I need to say to you,” she began.

  “Me too,” Andy said, ducking a hand beneath her elbow and steering her through the living room. “I—the last time we spoke—that is, when I was leaving the other night—”

  Claudia allowed herself to be led to a bright, open kitchen. Simple maple cabinets and tumbled stone floors gave the room a definite masculine air, and the copper pots hanging from the ceiling looked as though they saw little use. A bachelor’s kitchen.

  Claudia slid onto a barstool as Andy circled the counter and began chopping a pile of vegetables across from her. It didn’t seem likely that he was going to finish his sentence, so Claudia did it for him.

  “Your shirt,” she reminded him, attempting a smile, managing only an awkward grimace. “You were in a terrific hurry to get back your shirt. You must be especially attached to it.”

  Her lame attempt at humor fell between them, making the silence worse. Andy hacked at a green pepper, coming dangerously close to taking off the end of his thumb, and frowned.

  “Take it easy there,” Claudia added. “I really appreciate the dinner invitation, but there’s no need for you to spill blood over it.”

  Andy paused, the knife inches above the board. Slowly he lowered his hand and gazed at her. “Sorry. I’m not sure how to begin here. I...enjoyed the time we spent together the other night, to say the least.”

  Claudia nodded her ascent.

/>   “It seems that some things haven’t changed. Aw, hell, Claudia, I don’t know how to put this delicately. I’m trying to say—”

  “I know,” Claudia cut in hastily. It didn’t seem right to let him continue down this road, given what she had to tell him. “Last night meant a lot to me. Will always mean a lot to me. But there’s something else we need to talk about.”

  Now it was her turn to be at a loss for words, but Andy seemed relieved that she’d interrupted him. He moved around the kitchen, selecting a bottle from a wine rack. He examined the label and uncorked it. Poured them each a glass. Swirling the ruby contents, he hesitated before speaking again.

  “Are you, you know, starving or anything?”

  Claudia smiled, grateful for the diversion. “Actually, no. What with everything that’s happened, and worrying about Bea, I’ve kind of lost my appetite.”

  “That’s good,” Andy said gravely.

  “Good?”

  “Yeah—I’m afraid my cooking hasn’t improved at all in the last five years.”

  “Oh. Guess I should have stopped off at—”

  “—Ling’s Chinese Delicacies,” Andy finished for her, a ghost of a grin around his lips. “We sure ate a lot of meals from them. Probably kept ‘em in business, at that. They closed not long after...you know.”

  His smile faded. Then he squared his shoulders and pushed a glass of wine in her direction. “Let’s sit where it’s comfortable, as long as we’re not going to eat right away. There’s a view from my den you might like.”

  Claudia followed him. Off the kitchen, on the side of the house, steps led up half a flight to an angled room, with a desk in one corner beneath book-crammed shelves, and a single couch placed to look out the wide bay window.

  Claudia slowly lowered herself to the overstuffed couch, unable to take her eyes off the view. The room skimmed the tops of a few trees, and beyond the land sloped down to the town below. Twilight was fading into evening, and lights were coming on in the semi-darkness. Beyond, mountains rose up in inky splendor, and a few ribbons of purple and orange were evidence that the sun had set beyond not long before.

  “Wow,” was all she could manage.

  Andy took his seat next to her. “It’s the best feature of the house. Sold me on the place, in fact.”

  “You didn’t build it?”

  “No. I wish I could take credit, but I suppose I lack the imagination. I’m strictly left-brain, I’m afraid. You were always the creative one.”

  Once again, the past intruded on the present, silencing them both. Andy stared out into the deepening night, his expression unreadable, and Claudia sipped her wine. It was delicious, woodsy and smoky and rich, and she let it burn down her throat and warm her heart just a little before she carefully set the glass down on a small table.

  “Uh, I know you want to settle this thing about Bea,” Andy finally said.

  “Actually, that’s not—”

  “Let me just reiterate that I’m certain we can find a situation that will suit everyone. If you’ll just give me a chance to show you some of the options, I’m sure you’ll feel a lot better.”

  Claudia sighed. “Look. If I promise to come and look at one of these nursing homes—”

  “Assisted living is what I have in mind.”

  “Whatever. If I look at the thing, will you finally stop pestering me about it?”

  “Deal,” Andy said. “Although I’m sure we’ll both agree that Bea’s feelings should weigh heavily in the final decision.”

  “Of course.”

  “All right then.”

  The subject seemed closed. Claudia was relieved they hadn’t gone another round on the subject of Bea’s future, and then immediately felt guilty. Bea’s needs were the most important right now, weren’t they? Although you wouldn’t know it from her own behavior, Claudia thought remorsefully.

  Once she’d convinced herself to tell Andy the truth about Paul, she’d moved with single-minded determination. Coming here tonight, for instance, when she really should have been with Bea. The orthopedist had been scheduled to stop by, to talk about the upcoming surgery. Claudia should have been at her side.

  More lights winked on in the valley. The road up to Andy’s was a sparkling strand of jewels in the dark forest. Claudia took a deep breath.

  “I really think—”

  “So what do you—”

  They tripped over each others words, then laughed nervously. “What I meant to say,” Claudia began again.

  And then her words trailed off as Andy silenced her with a finger laid against her lips. He followed that with a single kiss, soft, brief, but not the least bit tentative.

  And then he sat back and regarded her, eyes thoughtful.

  Claudia was too startled to react at first. And then her body returned a volley of its own, heat pooling low in her belly, the echo of sensation on her lips leaving her hungering for more.

  She wanted him, more powerfully today than yesterday, more even than she did all those years ago, if she were to be completely honest with herself. Time had done nothing to dull their attraction. Worse, having loved after so long a hiatus, her body yearned to repeat the experience, responding immediately to his touch.

  “I have some things of my own to say,” Andy said softly, resting an arm on the back of the couch so that he could play with the strands of hair at the back of her neck. His touch sent shivers down her back and she leaned into it without thinking. “I know you have...someone.”

  “He’s—”

  “Let me finish, Claudia. This is hard, and I want to, well, get it all out. I know you love someone else. But you aren’t committed yet. All I’m asking for...”

  He leaned forward, took another kiss, lingering this time, pausing to taste her parted lips. “...is a chance to share my own feelings for you. To show you how good we could be. Again.”

  He reached for her again, but Claudia drew back, stopping him with two fingers lightly pressed on his chin.

  Just what were those feelings, she wanted to ask. But she knew that was not the sort of discussion Andy Woods undertook easily. Clearly it had cost him a lot even to say what he had.

  Words that took her completely off-guard. When they’d spent the night together—part of the night, anyway—Claudia had assumed it was nothing more for Andy than a surrender to the passions of the moment. Fatigue, stress, some kind of misplaced nostalgia, whatever. She didn’t for a moment allow herself to think he intended anything...

  Serious? Was that the word?

  But as Claudia struggled to sort it out, Andy gently removed her hand from his chin. Lacing his fingers through hers, he leaned forward and claimed her mouth again, catching her as she fell back against his hand still entwined in her hair. Claudia gasped as his kiss followed the line of her jaw, stopping to nuzzle in the hollow below her ear. He tugged gently at her earlobe with his lips, and his hot breath sent a shiver of pure arousal through her body.

  Her objections forgotten, Claudia threw her head back, exposing her long neck to Andy’s kiss. As he traced the ridge of her collarbone with his tongue, she eased her hands under the tail of his polo shirt, greedily splaying her fingers on his smooth, burnished skin of his back, pressing him closer to her.

  Andy ran a hand down the front of her cotton dress, pausing to tease her nipple into arousal with a flick of his thumb, then easing around her waist.

  “Where’s the damn zipper on this thing?” he growled into her neck.

  “In back,” Claudia breathed raggedly. This wasn’t a good idea, some stubborn part of her brain protested, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember why.

  In seconds Andy had found the clasp and loosed the fabric, easing the sleeveless dress over Claudia’s shoulders. Her skin was cool, impossibly cool and smooth against his own hot, fervent caresses. He bent to taste her pale shoulder; encouraged by her shiver of response, he ran his jaw along the tender skin of the inside of her arm, the rough stubble scraping. He was rewarded with a gu
ttural moan as Claudia locked her arms around him, pulling her closer.

  Andy slid his hands under her bottom, spreading his fingers over the curves, enjoying the way she fit perfectly against him. She rocked her hips upward against his hardness, and his desire ratcheted upwards into a dull ache.

  “Claudia,” he managed, his voice hoarse, “I took the liberty of making a trip to the drugstore for...supplies. Would you excuse me for a second?”

  In response she released her embrace and made way for him to ease off the couch.

  In less than a minute he was back, the delay only serving to heighten his anticipation. But he found Claudia sitting up, arms wrapped around her knees, staring at him with eyes even wider than usual.

  “Andy,” she said uncertainly.

  She didn’t have to continue. He read the query in those golden depths, a challenge he’d failed once before.

  And in a flash he was back in that crummy apartment on a day early in March. Weak afternoon light filtered through the windows as a few errant flakes of snow cast about outside. Claudia had made a pot of tea, some citrusy blend that Bea had concocted the summer before, and the scent filled the room. Andy had glanced up from his book, a dense human biology text, and it had occurred to him for the hundredth time how Claudia’s presence changed everything.

  It was a such a depressing little room. There were his bed and desk and an old dinette set with two chairs, all from the thrift shop. The floor’s finish had long since rubbed off, and the walls desperately needed patching and paint.

  But there was Claudia, sitting cross-legged on the floor and blowing steam across her mug, wearing one of his old sweatshirts and her underwear. Nothing else. Already the sight of her had distracted him from his studying for several hours, and he had to be at the slopes to work the night ski shift before long, and he’d hoped to cover two more chapters...

  “Andy,” she said thoughtfully, setting her mug down on the floor beside her and wrapping her arms around her smooth, bare legs. With her chin propped on her knees, she looked so innocent; and yet there was that expanse of silky skin, the calves he’d molded his hands to dozens of times.