Cold River

by Liz Adair

  “I don’t know,” he went on. “Maybe the wine business is to do what he did, only better. Legitimate, you know? Make a name for myself and my label in the world. Invite the world in to see my operation instead of skulking around trying to elude the revenue agents.”

  Mandy nodded. “I bet you’ll succeed.”

  He smiled ruefully. “Well, I haven’t got very far with you. I tell you what. You may not drink, but you don’t have anything against smelling, do you?”

  “What?”

  Vince picked up her glass. “Here. I want you to smell this.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yes. I want you to smell it and tell me what it reminds you of.”

  She took the goblet and held it under her nose.

  “Close your eyes,” he prompted.

  She did as he asked and sniffed.

  “Take your time.”

  She inhaled again.

  “Say the first thing that pops into your head.”

  “Cherries.”

  “Good girl. Anything else?”

  “Cinnamon? Is that possible?”

  He nodded. “Yes. What else?”

  “It was a more of a remembrance of how the morels smelled when you showed them to me. Just a fleeting memory, really. I can’t explain it.”

  “You don’t need to. I know. It does the same for me. Open your eyes.”

  Mandy did as he bid and found him facing her, leaning forward, with elbows on his knees. He held one hand out to take the glass from her and set it on the table. Then he took her hand and brought it to his lips. “Thank you.”

  He didn’t prolong the moment but stood and began to gather up dishes and place them in the cooler, tossing Mandy’s leftover wine into the ground by the arbor.

  She stared for a moment at the wet patch on the sod. Then she folded up the linens and handed them to Vince. “I can’t tell you what a lovely day this has been.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “Truly? I’m glad.” She eyed the cooler. “I don’t think we can get that in the trunk.”

  “That’s all right. I have to come back out this afternoon. There are some things I need to get done before the crew shows up on Monday.” He stood aside to let her walk in front of him on the narrow path around the building.

  They got in the Miata and drove home at a leisurely pace on back roads, and as they went, Mandy asked about the demolition business. Vince explained the basic laws of physics that govern how they set the charges and then went on to tell a couple of stories about disasters when those laws weren’t fully taken into account. They were descending the gravel road to her house as he recounted the tale of his first demolition job when, as a young man, he worked for someone who contracted to get rid of a beached whale by disintegrating it with dynamite. Mandy laughed so hard at his description of the resulting blubber bombs and fatty shrapnel and how all the spectators had to dive for cover that she could hardly see to stay on the road.

  It was only as she pulled into the driveway by the A-frame that she noticed Rael Timberlain’s Jeep parked by Vince’s Escalade.

  “It looks like you’ve got company,” Vince said.

  Still giggling from his story, Mandy nodded, but she frowned when she saw her open front door. “Rael doesn’t seem like the kind of person to go into someone’s house…”

  The sentence never made it the rest of the way from her brain to her mouth. Rael was indeed standing in the doorway of her house. On one side of him slouched the sullen, raven-haired girl who worked for Midge Cooley at the district office, but it was neither of them that made Mandy stare openmouthed. It was the tall, blonde girl standing on the other side with a tentative smile, her hand half raised in greeting.

  Mandy finally found her voice. “Leesie? What on earth are you doing here?”

  HALF AN HOUR later, Vince, Rael, and his daughter were gone, and Leesie sat at the kitchen table munching a peanut butter sandwich as Mandy set a mug of tomato soup in front of her.

  “Thanks, Sis,” Leesie said. “It’s been a long time since the Twinkies I had for breakfast.”

  Mandy sat down across from her and tucked one foot up. “Let me get this straight. You got on a bus right after you talked to me Friday morning? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming up here?”

  “Because you would have told me not to.”

  “Well, yes, I would have. This doesn’t make sense! And riding all the way up here from Stallo with a complete stranger!”

  “Who’s a complete stranger?”

  “Rael.”

  “He’s not a complete stranger. The agent at the bus station introduced me to him, and he had his kids with him, anyway.”

  “Kids? Do you mean there’s another gothic sibling?”

  “No, the sibling isn’t gothic. But never mind that. Where were you today? Or maybe I should ask who you were with? Who’s Heathcliff?”

  “Heathcliff?”

  “The guy you were with— the one with the big, black Cadillac SUV, which, if you want to be judgmental, could really tell you a lot about the guy.”

  “Why are you calling him Heathcliff?”

  “Because he looks like someone out of Wuthering Heights— all dark and brooding and more than a little sinister. Rael, on the other hand, looks like the Angel Gabriel.” Leesie laughed. “No, don’t look cross-eyed at me. Don’t you think his hair looks like a halo, the way it curls around his head?”

  “I’m looking cross-eyed because you shouldn’t call him by this first name. He’s an adult.”

  “He told me to call him that.” Leesie took a drink of soup and regarded her sister over the rim of the cup. “You haven’t told me who he is.”

  “Rael is the mailman.”

  “Not him. Heathcliff.”

  Mandy stood and went to the kitchen. “His name is Vince Lafitte,” she said as she began to wash the soup pot. “He’s a member of the school board.”

  “Oh, and I’m sure all you talked about today was school board business. You looked very chummy when you drove up. Where had you been?”

  Mandy rinsed the pot, dried it, and put it away. Then she stood with her hands on her hips and said severely, “We’ve strayed from the original point, which was what are you doing here? And does Mother know?”

  “Who’s that?”

  Mandy frowned. “Leesie, what’s the matter with you? Mother. Your mother. My mother. Does she know?”

  “No. I meant who’s that?” Leesie pointed. “You’re very popular. Big frog in a little puddle, I guess.”

  Mandy turned and looked out the window at the white-haired lady getting out of a blue sedan. “I have no idea.”

  Mandy took off her apron and went to answer the doorbell, steeling herself to be gracious.

  It turned out to be easier than she expected. Her visitor swept in with a smile as wide as the Hiesel Valley and, resist as she might, Mandy smiled back.

  Millie Barlow, wife of the local pastor, brushed aside Mandy’s declaration that she would attend church the following Sunday, saying that was her husband’s affair. Taking the chair Leesie offered her and declining refreshments, Millie Barlow stated she had two reasons for visiting and launched in. When she left half an hour later, Mandy had not only agreed to visit Granny Timberlain each month, but had also said she would work in literacy outreach. Mrs. Barlow explained that Tammy Wilcox couldn’t read, and she asked Mandy to spend three hours a week coaching her.

  “Wow,” Leesie said as Mandy closed the door after her visitor. “She really is a powerhouse!”

  “I’ll say. I need to study her technique. Did you see how she got me to say I’d teach this lady?”

  “Yeah. Usually the pastor’s wife just brings a plate of cookies and an invitation to come to worship service. How did she even know you were here?”

  Mandy curled up on the couch. “News travels fast in a small town, I guess.”

  Leesie went to the kitchen table and looked in the empty soup mug. She put it in the sink, then op
ened a cupboard door and began scanning the contents. “I think the cookies would have been a good idea.”

  “Me too. I don’t know how to teach a grown person to read.”

  “Can it be different than teaching a child? I’ve heard Mother say that you just need to give a child a safe place and the tools to teach himself to read.”

  “Mother said that? Which reminds me, I was just asking you if she knows you’re here.”

  Leesie closed the cupboard and looked at her watch. “Actually, yes. Do we have an hour’s difference? We’re earlier? Let’s see. Her plane landed at four.” She cast her eyes to the roof and did the math. “I expect to get a call from her on my cell phone any time.”

  “Well, you’ll be waiting quite a while. There’s no service upriver.” Mandy rubbed her arms. Looking outside, she noticed the house was sitting in shadows. She walked over and closed the front windows. “Did you leave Mother a note?”

  “Matter of fact, I did.”

  Mandy dug in her purse and pulled out her phone card. She handed it to Leesie and said, “You’d better go call her. Use the phone upstairs in my bedroom. Tell her I’ll put you on a plane tomorrow. We can run down to the district office tonight and use the internet there to get reservations.”

  Leesie took the card and bounced up the stairs, calling out, “Hey, you should see the view from up here! The river looks like it has pink lights in it. Where’s the phone? Oh, I found it.”

  Mandy heard a door close and figured Leesie must have carried the telephone into the bathroom for privacy. She rinsed the mug and put it in the dishwasher. Then she stood quietly, leaning against the counter, listening for some clue as to what was going on upstairs. Finally she gave up and sat on the couch in the living room. Her eye fell on the cello case standing in the corner. There was apparently no other luggage. Just like Leesie, to take off on a thousand-mile journey with nothing but her instrument.

  A few minutes later Leesie came down. Her eyes were shiny, but she was smiling. “I’m to stay,” she announced.

  “Whoa,” Mandy said, frowning. “Don’t I have a say in this?”

  Leesie stopped in mid stride. Her eyes welled up, and her chin began to quiver. “Are you saying you don’t want me?”

  Mandy patted the cushion beside her. “I’m not saying that. It’s just that this— this running away is totally out of character. What’s going on?”

  Leesie sat down, tucked up her feet, and hugged her arms against herself. “Is it chilly in here? Can you turn on some heat?”

  Mandy lit the stove and sat back with her sister.

  “That’s nice,” Leesie said. She drew a deep breath. “All right, I’ll tell you why I’m here. I’ve been dating a boy, Rob Greer. He’s bright and funny and an athlete. Popular. Macho. Drop-dead gorgeous. Dozens of girls would give anything to be his steady girl.”

  “And are you his steady girl?”

  “I guess I am. He’s, like, the only person I want to date. I think about him all the time.” She covered her face with her hand. “I hate it, but I even sit in class and write his name on my notebook.” She looked out at her sister from between her fingers. “How lame is that?”

  “Sounds normal to me. So why did you bolt?”

  Leesie sat back and picked up a throw pillow. “Rob was ready to take the relationship to the next level. He was pressuring me to… to… well, you know.”

  “All you had to do was say no,” Mandy said gently.

  Leesie hugged the throw pillow and leaned her cheek against it, staring into the fire. “That’s easy to say when you’re not there with his arms around you, and he’s whispering in your ear, and your whole body is voting yes. Do you know, I get weak in the knees just thinking about him?”

  They sat in silence for a moment, and then Leesie picked up the thread again. “I signed up for a class this semester called The Bible in the Arts.”

  Mandy nodded. “I was on the committee that okayed that class. It was real controversial. What did you think of it?”

  “Oh, it was great. The first thing we did was watch the video about Joseph and his amazing technicolor dream coat. It was all music and lots of fun. Then we had to read the story.”

  “The script?”

  Leesie shook her head. “No, the story from the Bible. In the play, and in the Bible, too, Joseph is a servant, and his boss’s wife keeps hitting on him. In the play, his boss comes in and catches them together, but in the Bible, he runs away and leaves her holding onto his coat.” Leesie closed her eyes as if replaying it in memory. “It says he fled and got him out.”

  She opened her eyes and turned to look at her older sister. “The moment I read that, it hit me— that’s what I had to do. I had to flee and get me out. So I did.”

  The room grew gradually darker as they sat without speaking, each lost in her own thoughts.

  Leesie was the first to break the silence. “It felt right, Mandy. I told Mother why I came, and she agrees with me. You know how paranoid she is about us not falling into the same trap she did.” She giggled. “When I started dating Rob, she started dropping heavy hints about making a visit to Planned Parenthood.”

  Mandy smiled, remembering her own discussions with her mother. “Of course you can stay.”

  Leesie leaned over and hugged her sister. “Thank you.” Resting her head against Mandy’s shoulder, she chuckled. “Oh, Mandy! The trip was such an adventure! First, I sat by a girl my age. She and her baby were going to her parents’ house because her husband was on his way to Iraq. Then, this fellow from Bosnia got on. All his family was killed in the ethnic cleansing there, and he was here in the U.S. as a student. He was on his way to visit an aunt in Spokane, the only member of his whole family that was still alive, and he was so excited to see her. They both had stories that made my problem pale into insignificance. Like, someone was saying to me, ‘Hello? Get a clue, Leesie!’”

  Mandy squeezed her sister’s shoulder. “Well, we need to arrange a place for you to sleep, I guess. I have an air mattress.”

  “It’s all taken care of.” Leesie jumped up. “Come and see.”

  Mystified, Mandy followed her sister to the downstairs bedroom. Leesie opened the door and turned on the light. “Ta-da!”

  “When did you do this?” Mandy asked. “Where did the bed come from? I recognize the blankets, but where did you get the pillows?”

  “Fran helped me. It’s your air mattress, see?” Leesie lifted the blanket to reveal a piece of plywood sitting on plastic buckets and supporting the mattress. “She said this is what she did when she first moved here, before she bought any furniture. She knew where the linens were, and she loaned me the pillows. She’s the one that let us in the house. Rael knew she was your landlady, so when you weren’t home, we went up to see her.”

  Leesie opened the closet door. “There’s more. See what she brought, too?”

  Mandy peeked in the closet, and up against the wall stood a rack of wire bins that held Leesie’s underwear, socks, T-shirts and sweaters.

  “She had those in her garage. Isn’t that cool? I love it.”

  “Well, we certainly will have to tell Fran thank you,” Mandy said.

  “Yes. I like her. Did you know her sister used to work for Poppy?”

  “How did you find that out? She didn’t tell me.”

  Leesie climbed onto the bed and sat cross-legged on the pillows. “Well, she had no way of knowing you’re related to Poppy. When I told her my name was Leesie Wheeler she said that her sister used to work for Conroy Wheeler, and I said that’s my dad. She said her sister thought he was a real good man and asked how he was doing.”

  “And you said…?”

  “I said he’s fine.”

  “Leesie, you can’t keep doing that.”

  “Why not? I know he’s in a better place, and there’s no more pain. Just because I can’t see him anymore doesn’t mean he’s not near.” Leesie sat on the bed. “You know, that’s why I like Jake Timberlain so much. When he talks
about his mother, he says ‘is’ instead of ‘was,’ too.”

  Mandy frowned. “Who’s Jake Timberlain?” Leesie patted the place beside her, and Mandy sat on the edge. “Who’s Jake Timberlain?” she repeated.

  “He’s Rael’s son. Willow’s brother.”

  “Rael has a son? Where was he this afternoon?”

  “He was here for a while, but before you came, he left to take his great aunt Clara to see her friends. She lives in a rest home in Stallo, and they bring her up once a month to visit. That’s how I got the ride up. The bus depot man’s wife works at the rest home, and he knew Rael would be coming down today. Aren’t small towns great?”

  “Maybe Jake’s mother isn’t dead. Maybe they’re divorced.”

  “No. When it was obvious there were just the three of them in the family, I asked Willow if her mom and dad were divorced. She said her mother was dead.”

  “Is that why she always wears black? Does Jake look anything like Willow?”

  Leesie laughed. “No. He looks more like his dad, though he’s taller. But he has the same mop of curls. He’s going to come by and pick me up for school tomorrow.”

  “That’s not necessary. I can drop you off.”

  “I know. But we’re going to Granny Timberlain’s before school. It’s kind of a family tradition.”

  “If it’s family, maybe you should wait.”

  “Nope. Rael says it’s okay.” Leesie put a pillow behind her back, leaned against it, and sighed. “I’m starting to hit the wall. I didn’t sleep very well on the bus. I think I’ve been running on adrenaline all day. I was excited to get here, but at the same time I was afraid you might not let me stay.”

  “Well, you’d probably better go to bed. Though, if the piano wasn’t out of tune, I’d make you come play with me first. I’ve got to find someone to tune it.”

  “Rael can do it.”

  “I need a professional. I don’t want to trust my piano to someone who doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

  “He tunes the school pianos.”

  “Leesie, how do you know all this?”

  “While we were getting the bedroom set up, Willow was messing around on the piano— everything she played was in a minor key. Jake mentioned that it needed tuning and asked his dad, but I knew you didn’t want just anyone doing it. You know, he delivers mail in that funny old Jeep. That doesn’t add up to a piano tuner, does it? But Jake says he does the school pianos, and Rael said he would come by tomorrow and tune ours. He says he doesn’t want you to pay him. You can fix dinner instead.”