Dashing Through the Snow

by Lisa G Riley

  “The little pain in the ass,” he said aloud as he drove and searched the streets frantically for the eyesore Lily was driving. There was no sign of either car. He screeched through a yellow light that was rapidly turning red and then had to brake for a jaywalker who was crossing in the middle of the street. “Hey!” he yelled out the window. “I don’t see any bumpers on your ass, pal!” For the second time in an hour, Smith was flipped the bird.

  ***

  Lily took her cue from her target and drove just a bit over the speed limit. Staying at least two car lengths behind, she watched carefully as the Mercedes’ right turn signal began to flicker. She pulled up to the corner, stopped, counted to twenty and then made the turn. She looked at her surroundings. He’d lead her to a large apartment complex on the edge of town.

  She recognized the place. It had five very ordinary brown and beige colored, mid-sized buildings with twelve floors each. The buildings were all connected with three facing front and two – one on each end – curving around so that the complex was three-sided. Each building had its own entrance and exit. The front of the complex faced a run of the mill parking lot while the back door of each building opened to an outdoor ground level pool. The pool, of course, was the center of the social whirl and in winter, the management’s event coordinator kept things hopping with well-planned, themed events. It catered mostly to twenty-somethings from all over the county and was well-known for its loud parties.

  She noticed the Mercedes and pulled into a slot four spots down from it. “Well, Mr. Benson,” she mumbled as she concentrated on parking the car straight inside the lines, “just what could a man your age possibly be doing at the Happy Hollow Housing Hacienda?”

  She sat back in her seat and watched as the forty-five year old walked jauntily up the sidewalk to the building. Taking her camera, she zoomed in on him and snapped off four quick shots. Hoping that the street lights provided sufficient brightness, she took four more as he bent over to speak into an intercom after having rung the buzzer.

  When he was buzzed in, she got out of her car and ran over to the building’s entrance. She looked at the list of names next to the buzzers. There were twelve of them. Sighing, she began to write them down and then had the idea to take a picture of them. She peeked in through one of the long panels of glass surrounding the door to see if Mr. Benson was still in sight. He was just stepping into the elevator.

  She thought about trying to get into the building, but decided against it, turning to go back to her car. Once inside, Lily looked at her watch. “Six fifteen. I hope he’s here to pick her -- if there is indeed a her -- up for dinner and not here for a long stay.” Either way, she was starving, just a bit chilled and she still needed a bathroom break. She wanted inside -- wherever that might be.

  While she waited, she thought about Smith. She’d known he’d been back in town for a couple of weeks. Hell, thanks to her mom, she’d known when he was coming, where he was going to live and the color of his kitchen before he’d even gotten to town. The one thing she didn’t know was why. Her mother simply would not tell her. “Whatever the cause, it must have been damn near catastrophic to get him to leave his beloved Texas,” she muttered.

  She had not been able to believe her eyes when he had driven up to park next to her. She’d managed to avoid him since she’d been home, but she knew that had only been through sheer luck and wily planning on her part, given that their families were so close. Their mothers had been best friends since they’d met their first day of college as roommates. They’d become inseparable and when Smith’s dad had gotten a transfer by his insurance company to Sheffield-Chatham, everyone had been thrilled, including Lily. She’d been five and she still remembered the day she’d found out the news as one of the happiest in her life. The day they’d moved back to Texas had been one of the saddest. She’d been absolutely heartbroken.

  “But we still had Christmases together,” she murmured softly as she remembered how much she’d looked forward to their joint family vacations every year.

  He’s so damned hot, she thought. “Not just hot, but hawt,” she said aloud, using the slang she’d heard her teenage cousins use. Being in such close approximation to him when he was in her car had almost been her undoing. Heat had filled her to the brim almost as soon as she’d seen him.

  When the door Mr. Benson had gone through earlier was rudely shoved open so that it bounced back against the wall, Lily came to strict attention. Out stumbled a statuesque, red-headed, giggling woman. Dressed in a mink jacket and a short black dress with stiletto heels, the mystery woman was carrying a wineglass full of something golden and right behind her was Mr. Benson. “Obviously the party got started early.” Lily snatched her camera up and started snapping pictures as quickly as her shutter would allow her.

  The woman slipped on a patch of ice, about to take a very painful tumble, but Benson quickly put his arm around her waist. “Now there’s one for the missus,” Lily muttered when the woman put a gentle hand to his face in gratitude.

  “Thank you, babykums,” Lily heard her coo and grimaced in embarrassment as she watched her kiss him on his balding head.

  “Just get in the damned car,” Lily muttered a few moments later, knowing that while the photos she had were adequate, she’d need more just to be on the safe side. Of course a few of them kissing would serve her well, but she found that she really didn’t want to see that. She knew that photographing them kissing would make her feel more sordid than she was already beginning to feel.

  The couple held hands as they walked to the car and Lily went to work with her camera again. She waited for Benson to start his car and drive to the parking lot’s exit before she keyed her ignition and followed them.

  Chapter Five

  Christmas Eve 1986

  Lily glanced warily over at Smith. She could tell something big had happened and whatever it was had made him unhappy. She didn’t like it when he was unhappy – he either became really angry where he was just mean or he was really sad and didn’t talk, but looked like he was trying not to cry.

  “What’s the matter, Smith?” she asked tentatively.

  “Nothin’.”

  “Uh –huh, yes there is,” Lily insisted as she fingered her new pink snow suit. She didn’t like it very much because it felt funny and kind of slippery, but she really loved the matching boots with their pretty pink flowers and tinkling silver bells. Her mommy had told her she’d look just like a snow bunny on the kiddy slopes. Lily smiled at the thought and imagined herself hopping just like a bunny. That thought was followed by one where she actually turned into a bunny – a bunny with her black hair and fabulous new boots.

  “Lily!”

  Lily looked over at Smith and the frown he was aiming at her made the happy thought of bunnies disappear right from her head. She scowled at him. “What?”

  “Why’d you even ask me if you weren’t even gonna listen?”

  “Listen to what?”

  He sighed and Lily watched as his dark blue eyes squeezed together like he was just getting madder and madder. She hated when he got mad for nothing and besides she really liked bunnies. “Just tell me, then,” she demanded with folded arms.

  He made a sound like a big gust of wind again as if she’d just asked him for his dumb ole’ Hot Wheels or something. “All right, I know you’re just gonna bug me about it anyway, so I’ll tell you. We gotta move from Texas, and I hate it!”

  “Why do you gotta?” Lily asked in an awed whisper. Nothing else could have surprised her more. Smith’s daddy loved Texas like she loved…well, anything pretty.

  “‘Cause my daddy’s job says we have ta move to Sheffield-Chatham!”

  Lily felt tears fill her eyes and she knew her face was scrunched up. “Fine! Stay in stupid Texas! You can go to the moon for all I care ‘cause I don’t wanna live near you either!” She punched him in the belly and ran to cry in her mother’s arms.

  Smith sat in his car outside Candace Carstairs’ house. Af
ter he’d driven around for more than an hour looking for Lily, he’d decided his best bet would be to come back there and confront her at home. She wasn’t there and so what he was doing now was waiting. “And I’m not even getting paid for this shit,” he said aloud in disgust.

  Parked at the curb, he looked over at the house. Built in the Federalist tradition, the house was certainly out of place on a street full of the more modern Ranch style homes. Smith was so close to the family, he knew the story as well as any of the cousins. New bride Candace Carstairs had fallen in love with the house on first sight and they’d scrimped and saved their salaries, he as a plumber and she as a social worker, until they’d had enough and when the house had come on the market, they’d bought it. The house had been in the family since 1966.

  It had been built more than a hundred years after the Federalist period had ended, but one wouldn’t know that just from looking at it. The house was a two-story red brick with black shuttered windows arranged symmetrically around a center doorway -- two on each side. The door had a half-circle window above it that Candace had always referred to as a fanlight. The drapes of the big picture window in the parlor were opened and he could see Lily’s Christmas tree with its colorful lights brightly blinking on and off. He could see a smaller tree in the living room through opened drapes. He knew if he were inside the house, he’d be smelling pine, just as he knew that the wreath hanging on the door would be fragrant with the scents of evergreen and holly. Lily had always said that the smells of Christmas were the best things about the holiday. There were about a half dozen poinsettias on the window sill in the parlor, outdoor lights blinking in the hedge and finally, a manger scene sat proudly on the lawn.

  “Always did love to go all out,” Smith muttered with a shake of his head. He sighed as he studied the house some more. He loved it; something about the lines of it had called to him even as a child. He remembered playing there with Lily and her cousins. His childhood in Sheffield-Chatham had given him some of the best times of his life, but Texas was in his blood. Lily had never really understood that. Smith sighed. Lily. “Little annoying ball of fluff,” he said. She’d been the bane of his existence for most of their lives. When they were children, he was charged with taking care of her and she’d often followed him around as little sisters were wont to do. “I’ve felt responsible for the brat since I was two. Thank you, Mom and Aunt Glenda.” Of course he didn’t remember his and Lily’s first meeting, but the story had been told so often, he felt like he remembered it.

  About thirteen years before, the reason for her being his own personal nuisance had changed – ever since he’d realized he’d wanted to get in her pants more than he’d wanted to get under her skin. “Man, did she turn out nice,” he said softly and the dismay he’d felt all those years ago when the realization that she was more than just Lily the pest hit him in the gut could still be heard in his voice. His attraction to her had by turns scared and repulsed him because he’d always thought of her as family, and worse than that, someone he was supposed to protect from threats, even if that threat was him.

  And that was why he’d -- and there was no other word for it -- fled her apartment four years ago the morning after he’d spent the night making love to her and holding her in his arms. “I ran like a scared rabbit.” He still felt shame over it, but still felt like he’d made the right decision by leaving. It was true he should have talked to her first, but he admitted it, he’d panicked. He’d awakened with her in his arms and she’d felt so soft and perfect that it had scared him. That coupled with their background together had sent him on his panicked flight and he’d run all the way back to Texas. He’d felt like a man on the lam ever since.

  He thought about his first sight of her yesterday and how just looking at her had made him all taut and ready to spring. He spit out an exasperated sigh. He was still attracted. He hadn’t gotten her out of his system during their one night of explosive sex and the knowledge was killing him. Of course he’d known that when he’d left her and that was what had kept him away from the family for so long. Even after four years, he wouldn’t be in Sheffield-Chatham now if he hadn’t needed to get as far away from Texas as he could. Smith took his fingers through his hair as, in self-defense, his mind shied away from the thought of Texas and his troubles there. He grimaced. “What a fucking debacle.”

  He took a bracing drink of the coffee he’d stopped to get once he realized he wasn’t going to catch up to Lily. “Where in the hell could she have gone?” He looked at his watch and frowned. It was almost one. “Where is she?”

  Bright lights from another car’s headlights suddenly filled his car and Smith swore when he realized that someone had called the cops. The town’s police force wasn’t huge, so he was likely to know whoever was behind him, but that wasn’t the point. The fact that someone felt it necessary to call the police meant that he’d been noticed, which meant he was slipping. He also didn’t want to be put in the position of having to explain what he was doing there.

  His car went dark again and he heard the door of the cop car open and close, so he reached into his pocket for his wallet and licenses -- driver and private eye. He was reaching for his glove compartment for his title when the cop shined a flashlight through the driver side window. Smith held up his hand to block the direct glare.

  A deep voice directed, “Hold it. Put your hands in the air.”

  Rather than argue, Smith did as commanded.

  “And wave them like you just don’t care.”

  “What?”

  “No back talk.”

  Smith knew he couldn’t have heard what he thought he heard. “What did you say, officer, earlier, I mean? Did you say -- ”

  “I said no back talk. Now I’m going to open this door and you’re going to slowly step out of the car.”

  Sighing resignedly, Smith waited for the door to be pulled open and then stepped out. “Listen, officer,” he began, trying to see the man’s face, but now he was shining the flashlight directly in his eyes, making seeing anything but the white glare of it impossible. “Will you turn off that light, please?”

  “It appears you have a problem with authority…Toast.”

  Smith had noticed the significant pause, but it was the name that made him smile and punch the cop in the shoulder. “God damn you, John Palmer! How the hell are you? I should have known it was you, you jackass!” Smith was laughing now and returning the other man’s hug. John had called him “Toast,” as in “Texas Toast” since he’d moved to Sheffield-Chatham and his twang had made him stick out like a sore thumb. He’d also kept the bullies away from him, which hadn’t been necessary for long.

  Assistant Police Commander John Palmer laughed some more as he turned off the flash light. “Good. I’m good,” he answered. “But you’d know that if you’d spent any time anywhere else but Aunt Glenda’s since you got back.”

  “What can I say? It’s the food and the company, son. They’re both irresistible.”

  John copied Smith’s relaxed pose against the car. “True, and just how irresistible do you find my little cousin?”

  Smith turned his head to study his old friend. John was much darker than Lily, but had the same light colored eyes with a devilish twinkle, behind which lurked an equally devilish intelligence. The older man was only a couple of inches taller than his own six foot one inch frame, but he was much wider. He was a good, honest guy and Smith had always admired him. He respected him too much to offer him anything but the truth in answer to his question. But first, Smith had a question of his own. “How did you know?”

  “It was plainly obvious that Christmas when you were nineteen and your family came to visit.”

  Smith frowned as he recalled that Christmas. It had been his last Christmas with Lily.

  “I’ll never forget it,” John was saying, “The whole family was here at Lily’s grandmother’s house for Christmas Eve dinner. Now, if I recall correctly, two things had been keeping our Lily up with excitement that enti
re week. As you know that girl is just plum obsessive about clothes -- always has been -- and here she was getting her very first formal gown. But in the anticipation department, that ran a distant, very distant, second to you coming to town.

  “Anyway, she came gliding down that gorgeous staircase in some strapless black velvety thing and since you were standing right next to me, I heard you. You gulped like you had swallowed your tongue. And if that weren’t pathetic enough, I heard you say something that made me feel shame as a man just because I was standing next to you.” He broke up laughing when Smith groaned in embarrassment.

  Smith just stared at him, making John laugh even harder.

  “Your voice sounded muffled, like the words were coming from the throat of a drowning man, but they were clear enough. I’ll never forget it. You said, ‘Jesus, save me.’ It was a plea like none I’d ever heard before, and I thought two things. One: if he touches her, I’d hate to do it, but I’d have to kill him and two: if he touches her, I’d hate to do it, but I’d have to kill him.”

  Smith shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t know if he could take John and he didn’t particularly want to find out. “Ah…and how do you feel about that possibility now?”

  “Now?” John smiled and shrugged. “She’s thirty years old, man. I figure she’s old enough to make her own decisions about her love life.”

  “Hmm. And you didn’t say anything to me about it at the time because…?”

  “Because I figured I’d wait and see if you would be so foolish as to make a move because I’d have hated to do it --”

  “But you’d have had to kill me. I know,” Smith said as John laughed.

  “Exactly, and you proved how smart you were because you stayed away from her. And as I recall, that was the last time you came to town with your parents for Christmas.”