Warm Winter Love

by Constance Walker

  She knew that he was angry and impatient and hurt by her reluctance. She moved closer to the edge of the run and took another deep breath, planning how she would take the trail. If she traversed the slope and angled all the way to the base of the mountain, then she shouldn’t encounter any difficulty. She would have to watch out for the trees, though. She looked at the cedars and tried to gauge the distance of the branches that overhung the trail. Though tricky, it really shouldn’t be that difficult. She had the competence that came of having been on skis for almost all her life.

  She took another deep breath as a gust of wind blew frozen flakes across her goggles and she waited while the air calmed. She knew that Sam was watching her, waiting for her to make her move, and she inched a step closer to the edge so that she was now in position. She looked down the slope—no one was in sight—and suddenly another blast of wind swept first through the cedars and then up the incline.

  Just go down it, Katie, she told herself. Just pretend it’s Magic Mountain. She paused to brush away the snow from her face and then slowly shook her head. It was no use. She couldn’t do it. Her body was rigid and her feet suddenly felt leaden, rooted to the earth as though they were foreign objects that refused to obey her orders. She tried to flex her arms, but again her extremities wouldn’t comply. Her hands were clenched tightly around the ski poles and she could feel the moisture trapped on her palms by her nylon mitts. No, today wasn’t the day she would conquer Devil’s Mist. It had won again!

  “I’m sorry, Sam,” she said simply. “I just can’t do it. I don’t know why.” She waved her hands helplessly. “It just seems so… so…”

  “Fearful, Katie. Fearful.” He reached out to her and held her so that she felt comforted by both his warmth and his tenderness. “It’s okay. Sometimes there are things we just can’t do yet. No matter what.” He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her scarf a gentle twist. “We still have a couple of days. We’ll try again some other time.”

  She shook her head, angry at herself. Some things, whether mastering Devil’s Mist or telling Sam she loved him, were just too difficult. Maybe some things weren’t meant to be!

  Chapter Nine

  “Today, Katie,” Sam said after breakfast, “I’m going to give you what I call breathing room. I told you I was going to treat you like a priority client, and I am, and this is what I do after I make my initial presentation. I give the client time to think, to weigh all the options, to get all the questions ready. And it gives me time to gather more ammunition to counter the questions and the doubts.” He grinned at her, and she caught her breath at the simple gesture. “Yes, ma’am, you’re my number-one client—and my only one—this week.” He took her hand. “I’ve given you all the reasons for us to be together and to spend the rest of our lives with each other and I really don’t have anything else to offer.” He spread his hands wide and stepped back so that she could see him in full view. “Look at me, Katie-Katie. What you see is what you get.” She wanted to tell him that she liked—loved—what she saw, and that if their timing had been right, she wouldn’t hesitate. But Jason had been there first and Jason was steady and would always be home. And it wasn’t as though she didn’t like Jason. How could she be sure that this wasn’t just a fleeting romance? She recounted to herself all the reasons for her decision to stay with Jason. But she had to admit, looking at Sam’s impish smile, that there was a time bomb in her head, and it kept reminding her that perhaps she was making a mistake, was really just settling for something safe and secure. She remembered a story she had once read about a person who had to detonate an explosive. One false move and the whole cruise ship would blow up. That’s how she felt about Sam and Jason. One false move on her part and she would give in to her emotions and tell Sam that she wanted and needed him. But as long as she took things slowly, like an expert defusing a bomb, then nothing would go wrong or could go wrong.

  “You’re away again, Katie,” she heard him say through her thoughts.

  She blinked. “Sorry. I told you it was a habit.”

  “That’s your one permitted escape, isn’t it?” he said. He put a finger to her lips to silence a response. “No, don’t answer that—erase it. I promised nothing heavy today and I meant it. Tell you what—let’s go to the souvenir shop again. I’ve got to get something.” He looked out the window at the lines already formed for Magic Mountain. “There are too many people there already. We’ll hit it when they slack off for lunch.”

  It was almost deserted in the shop and they browsed at the counters, picking up the little ornaments, playing with the windup toys, squeezing the plush animals with whistles in their stomachs, and reading the children’s books. They were being silly, she knew, but it was the fun of it that she enjoyed. It was as if she had been set free; she could say or do anything and Sam would understand. She was beginning to learn that it was part of his nature to want to have fun, to want to do things spontaneously, and to want to include other people in his circle of joy.

  “Look at this, Katie,” he said, dangling a pull-toy train. “Did you ever have a set of trains?” When she shook her head, he continued, “No, that’s what I thought. You were a traditional girl, with dolls and…”

  “… cutouts and skates,” she cut him off, finishing for him. She laughed. “I had only what you would call ‘all-girl stuff.’ ”

  “Uh-uh, Katie. No way. Every kid had skates.” He put the toy back on the counter. “Unisex things don’t count—bubble pipes, board games, jigsaw puzzles.”

  “I still do puzzles. I have one on my dining room table right now. I go back to it every once in a while.” She put her hand to her mouth and sighed. It was another reminder—Sam wouldn’t have jigsaw puzzles on his dining room table. He was too busy traveling and didn’t really have a home base to return to every day. He’d never get back to them except on weekends, if he were lucky. It was another indication that he wasn’t for her. So many signs told her that he wasn’t for her, that Jason was much more like her. All these reminders kept cropping up at the wrong times and places. It probably would be like this all her life if she chose Sam.

  He didn’t notice the change in her mood and he walked around the store, picking up toys and scented soaps and games. She watched him as sunlight, streaming through the window, gilded his hair and parka as he bent forward to inspect a glass figurine. He grinned as he looked at the base and said:

  “I saw the same thing in Italy. That’s where this was made. You get to see the same things in all the countries, Katie. Makes you realize how small the world really is.”

  But the world really isn’t that small, Sam, she wanted to say. Certainly it’s not small enough to accommodate both our plans.

  She trailed her hands over several wooden carvings and suddenly realized that she was at the counter where she had met him just a few days ago, and that the tinkling sounds that filled the area were coming from several music boxes. Unable to resist them, she turned their keys so that the music coming from all the boxes at once mingled in a cacophony of different tempos and melodies. She stood there, enchanted, until they finally ran down.

  She picked up a miniature musical china clock and marveled at the intricate, delicate cream-and-pink roses. She fingered the raised petals and closed her eyes as she tried to recall an image from another time. The pattern of the flowers and the pastel colors were reminiscent of something, a picture frame or a piece of ribbon she had once owned. But she shook her head and gave up; it was too long ago to remember, and she let the memory slip from her mind. Another reminder, maybe, of her and Sam. Perhaps, one day, he would slip from her mind too.

  She held the clock in her hand, wondering about its melody, and, unable to resist, wound it up and waited for its tune. She recognized it instantly—“Un Bel Di” from Madame Butterfly—and she recalled that the senior music class had performed it at an evening assembly at the end of last year. She hummed the familiar aria as she replaced the clock on the counter, thinking that Jason had been sitt
ing next to her at that assembly and that it was about then that they began to talk about getting married. After the program, she recalled, while walking to his car, they had spoken to some of the students. The kids had stared at them and she could tell that they were wondering if Mr. King and Ms. Jarvis were going together. They had both laughed at the students’ whispering.

  “Might as well do it, Katie,” Jason had said in the car. “The kids think we’re an item, so I guess we are.” He had held her hand. “How does that suit you, Katie?” he asked, and she said that it was fine with her. And that’s how it began and was and how it progressed until they came up with August as a month. It wasn’t really any big deal and nothing to really get excited about, although her mother had said, “Why wait?” Now she wondered why she did keep postponing picking a date. Why she took her time. If she had gotten married sooner, there would have been no vacation in March… no Sam… and no confusion.

  She looked at the clock and was surprised to see that while the notes played, a tiny gilt-edged second hand circled the face of the clock quickly, so that it appeared to be counting down the hours. For a moment she was spellbound by the idea—until she realized that the miniature hand was also counting down her time with Sam.

  She stared at the spinning dial. The combination of the poignant music and the reminder of the rapid passage of time was much too over-whelming for her and she again felt the bitter lump form in her throat. She swallowed back a sob and looked up at the ceiling of the store, at its old-fashioned light fixture and fan, trying hard to concentrate on them, hoping that by doing so her tears would be absorbed back into her eyes and not betray her emotions. But it wasn’t to be and she wiped her face with her hand. As the clock wound down, she felt that with every prolonged note, the aria was reminding her of her choices.

  Sam came over to her and wordlessly handed her a handkerchief.

  “Oh, Sam,” she said, “I have to go back, I can’t stay here.” She ran to the door of the shop. “Please don’t follow me. Please let me be alone for now,” she pleaded. She looked at the handkerchief and saw her pink lipstick on it and she crumpled it into a ball and shoved it into her pocket. “This isn’t fair!” she cried. “This isn’t fair to either of us.”

  She ran out of the shop, not looking back, but knowing that Sam was respecting her wishes. She had to be alone now. There were too many things she had to think about, too many things that had to be sorted out before tomorrow.

  Chapter Ten

  Sam stuck to his pact that evening. “I promised you, Katie, and I meant it. No hard sell today.” He put his finger under her chin and tilted it so that her face was close to his, too close for her comfort. “Are you okay?” he asked, and when she nodded her head he smiled. He looked closer at her swollen eyes, and she knew he was just being gallant. No, she wasn’t okay and he knew it. They both knew it.

  He touched her arm. “Of course, what you’re thinking I don’t know, and what I’m thinking you won’t know, but we’ll keep it light.” He squeezed her hand. “This evening it’s your choice. Whatever you want to do—dance, ski, talk, or walk. It’s your choice. And,” he said, grinning, “if you want to ski Devil’s Mist even though I don’t, then, of course, I’ll do it. Anything for you.”

  She managed to smile when he mentioned Devil’s Mist. That was another thing about him—he had a charm that could make her laugh even though her heart was breaking. Like now.

  “Come on,” he said, drawing her away from the dinner table. “Take your choice. What’s it to be?”

  “Ski, and not Devil’s Mist,” she said with a forced laugh. “Oh, Sam, sometimes you’re completely. Completely…” She bit her lip, trying to find the right word to describe him. But how could she ever describe him?

  “Completely what?” He saw her confusion and stepped toward her. “Still your choice, Katie,” he said.

  She took it for a double statement. “The mountain,” she said.

  He bent his head in agreement. “Okay. Wherever and whatever you want.”

  She knew that he was making an affirmation that went way beyond this moment. This evening was just what she wanted and needed. Sam, in his gentle and brash wisdom, was making no demands on her, never once mentioning their future. It was a strain for both of them but she knew he would always keep his promises, no matter what the circumstances.

  Jason was like that too, she had to admit. Once his word was given, then nothing could deter him. Maybe that was why she was attracted to both Sam and Jason—they did have some similar qualities. They were both kind and gentle human beings, and both were successful and happy in what they wanted to do in life. But, unfortunately, they both expected her to love them. And that was the problem. In her heart she knew that she loved both of them, only not in the same committed and romantic way. But right now it was too difficult for her to admit. Suppose that she chose for the wrong reasons?

  This was one of the few times in her life that she had ever had to make a hard choice. Usually, she was able to decide within minutes, which was sometimes her trouble, she had been told. She sometimes made decisions too quickly. But this time—dealing with both her heart and mind—this was too complex, too important and too painful. There was no logical right or wrong. Jason had always said to use your mind when you had to decide something. But this wasn’t strictly a mental problem. Oh, no! This was a matter of her heart too. Why did she have to meet up with two really wonderful men? Why did she have to choose between them?

  She had a jumble of disconcerting thoughts while waiting for Sam to finish his run and watching for his red cap and ski jacket to appear on the horizon. She had gone down first, in incredibly short time, and when she pushed off, he was still adjusting his boots. No matter. Waiting for him in the cold air would give her a chance to think.

  Not that she hadn’t already done a lot of thinking this afternoon. She had skipped lunch and stayed in her room, not wanting to see Sam. She had even tried to call Jason again. Actually, she had played that children’s game of thinking that if he answered, then it would be right to continue with their plans, and if he didn’t answer, then she would break their engagement.

  She let the phone ring twice before hanging up, not really wanting to take a chance on the result of the game. She would never know whether he was there or not. But it wasn’t the way to decide the rest of your life! Definitely not! She smiled wryly. How would she ever tell anyone—Jason, Irene, her mother—that she had decided her future on the basis of a child’s game? It was beyond explanation.

  She looked up at the mountain. Sam still wasn’t in sight; in fact, there weren’t many people coming down the slope and she began to worry about an accident. Maybe he had fallen or taken a bad turn or hit a rock. Or maybe he broke his leg or collided with a tree or maybe had a concussion. She imagined all sorts of things that could have happened on the mountainside and all at once she realized that she was assuming Sam had had an accident and more importantly, that she was panicked that something had really happened to him.

  Fear invaded her body. What would her life be like without Sam? She leaned against the small tree near the end of the run. She hadn’t thought about that situation. She had only imagined what it would be like to be married to Jason. She had thought about Sam’s traveling, but she hadn’t explored the idea completely, hadn’t gone further than the weekday separations. Life with Sam would be constant fun, constant serendipity as they took each day, never knowing what discoveries it would bring. Small, trivial things gave him joy—the pull-toy train in the shop or the falling snow. His ability to amuse and be amused—that part of his life would be contagious. But was that enough? Would that carry through a whole lifetime?

  She kept scanning the mountain while she thought of the reasons she should marry Sam. He was successful in his job, so he certainly had sense. He always saw the bright side of things and was rarely depressed. Not even now, when he wanted something—her—did he succumb to despondency. Yes, he had his downside too. Hadn’t she se
en the pain in his eyes the night before? But he was able to bounce back and continue fighting for what he wanted. It certainly said something about his character!

  She wondered if Jason would fight for her and would want her as much as Sam did. Or would he accept her decision and not contest it? It was something she would never find out, although someday she would really like to know. But did it matter? The bottom line was that Jason would always be there, would always love her in his own way, and if it wasn’t in the same style as Sam—well, that could be compensated for, because they would always be together.

  She glanced once more at the mountain and saw several skiers making their way down, but there was no black parka. Where was he? Please don’t let him have had an accident.

  “Dreaming again, Katie?” Sam asked.

  He had approached her from behind, and she felt relieved that nothing had happened to him and that her nightmare-daydreams were only testing her.

  “I waited for you and wondered where you were,” she said quietly.

  “I went down the far side. It was just something I wanted to do.” He took a deep breath. “Something I felt I had to do tonight. Do you understand?”

  “I know.” She did, really. Magic Mountain had that effect on him too. Funny, they had so much in common, so much that was mystical in their lives, at least here in the shadow of the mountain. It was aptly named. Perhaps others had also discovered its secret.

  They walked toward the Crest as snow fell on their hoods and parkas, making the fabrics appear blotched before they began melting. He held out his hand so that a flake fell onto it and then he presented the glittering crystal to her.

  ‘‘I can’t promise you diamonds,” he said simply, and she felt the tears well up in her eyes again. “So this will have to do.” He looked at her, and she saw the anguish in his clouded eyes. “Please take this, Katie-Katie,” he said, extending his mittened hand to her. “It’s all I have to offer you right now. That… and me.”