Silver Thaw

by Catherine Anderson

  * * *

  After a shower, Amanda threw on clothes and the wool socks, and hurried back downstairs, intent on preparing Jeb a lunch that would keep him going until dusk. She hoped he liked what she fixed. Mark had sneered at her meals so often that she couldn’t help worrying. She considered using the microwave thaw cycle, but in the past, she’d ended up with rubbery meat. So she decided to put the beef chunks in a Baggie floating in hot water while she threw together a batch of homemade bread. Not the proper way to thaw meat, she knew, but she’d never heard of anyone getting sick from it. She was elbow-deep in dough when Chloe appeared. Amanda washed up, served the child the extra breakfast she’d made, and resumed work. If lunch wasn’t ready when Jeb got back, she had no idea how he might react.

  After eating, Chloe went back upstairs to dress, and then wanted to help. Since leaving Mark, Amanda had been allowing Chloe to assist in the kitchen. That meant it took twice as long to prepare a meal, but Amanda enjoyed the one-on-one time. That wasn’t the case now. Chloe’s help would slow her down.

  Thinking fast, she said, “Would you like to clean the bathroom?”

  Chloe clapped her hands. She’d never been allowed to clean the bathroom before. Amanda found squirt bottles of antiseptic and glass cleaner, which she felt the girl could do no harm using, gave Chloe a roll of paper towels, and lined her up for an hour of squeezing the trigger and polishing. While giving Chloe instructions, she fretted over the bread dough. What if it started to rise and fell flat while it baked? All she’d be able to do was hide the evidence. Jeb hadn’t asked for homemade bread. She needn’t reveal that she’d wasted some of his flour and yeast, a criminal offense in Mark’s household.

  Amanda had just checked on Chloe’s progress, covered the loaves to let them rise, and was about to start the stew when she noticed Bozo pacing by the back door. She called to tell Chloe she’d be on the rear porch while the dog did his business. But then the canine looked up at her as if he expected something more.

  “What?” She felt silly for asking the question.

  Bozo loped to the laundry room, waited for her to catch up, and then bumped a cupboard with his muzzle.

  “Okay.” Amanda opened the door. “And just what will I find in here?”

  A set of red canine boots lay on one shelf. She’d seen pictures of the things but had no clue how they went on. Bozo lifted a front paw. The boots were all shaped the same, so she tugged one of them onto his foot and fastened it. The others were a snap.

  “You are one lucky boy,” she told him.

  After bundling up, she stood on the porch, teeth chattering, while the mastiff toured the backyard. Please, God, don’t let him wander off. Jeb would not be pleased if he came home to find Bozo gone.

  The mastiff behaved well, going only a little way from the steps and then returning. She wondered if he always displayed such eagerness to end his potty runs, or if it was just too cold for him. Her flimsy jacket provided little protection, and back inside, she was shaking as she removed Bozo’s boots.

  The stew. If she didn’t get it started soon, the meat wouldn’t be tender by the time Jeb got back. Amanda was at the sink, peeling potatoes and carrots and tossing Bozo treats over her shoulder, when she heard Chloe sniffling behind her. She turned to see that the child’s face was puffy and red from crying.

  “I’m sorry, Mommy,” Chloe said, wringing her small hands. “It said on the can that the bubbles would do all the work.”

  Amanda glanced toward the bathroom. “What bubbles, sweetie?”

  “I found them under the sink. I wanted the bubbles to do the work so I could hurry back to help you cook.”

  With mounting dread, Amanda hurried to the bathroom. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the mess Chloe had made. It looked as if a snowstorm had swept through. The large mirror was sprayed with foam and then had been smeared at one lower corner, presumably by Chloe in an attempt to clean up. The granite countertops, slate shower, toilet, and even the vanity cupboards now wore a layer of drippy white. It would take Amanda ages to undo the damage, and that was time she couldn’t spare if she meant to have a noon meal waiting for Jeb.

  “It’s all right,” she assured her daughter, hugging her close. This is my fault. I should have supervised her cleaning efforts. “I don’t think any permanent damage is done. When lunch is over, I’ll come in and clean it up.”

  “But then Mr. Jeb will be here. He’ll be mad at me when he sees what I did.”

  Amanda couldn’t argue the point. Jeb had no children and didn’t understand how interesting life could sometimes be as a parent.

  Amanda closed the bathroom door. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t see it.”

  “He’ll want to go potty and wash his hands.” Chloe’s lower lip quivered.

  Thinking quickly, Amanda said, “I’ll encourage him to wash at the kitchen sink!”

  She just prayed the foamy spray hadn’t damaged the walnut finish on the vanity. The rest she felt sure she could restore to its original condition, leaving no sign that the “working bubbles” incident had ever happened.

  * * *

  By nine, Jeb had run low on emergency supplies and was back at the sporting goods store, filling a cart. Charlie was nearly sold out of some things. When Jeb entered the outerwear department and saw fine-quality stuff for both adults and children, he got an idea. Grabbing his cell phone, he dialed Myrna Bradley’s home number. She answered on the second ring. Jeb said hello and asked how she was doing, then got to the point. “Do you believe it’s okay to tell a little white lie if someone needs help and won’t accept it?”

  “Absolutely. That’s why they’re called little white lies.”

  Jeb grinned. “Remember that lady you talked with yesterday? She and her little girl need some decent outerwear. They don’t even have gloves, mufflers, or caps, so far as I’ve seen. The little girl’s parka is okay, but her snow boots leak. The mother has one pair of shoes, a thin jacket, and nothing else. I’d like to buy them some stuff, but if I call home to ask for their sizes, I’m afraid her pride will get in the way. She doesn’t like being indebted to me.”

  “Hmm. Are you at a store right now?” Myrna asked. When Jeb affirmed that he was, she said, “Stick tight. She’ll hear me on the answering machine. Right?”

  “I’d think so.”

  “I’ll get back to you in five.”

  Jeb started to ask about her plan, but she hung up. He pocketed his phone and continued shopping. True to her word, Myrna called him back in about three minutes.

  “You got a pen and paper?”

  Jeb grinned, went to the end of the aisle, put Myrna on speaker, and opened a cell-phone notes application. “I’m ready. Shoot.”

  After Myrna had given him the sizes, she said, “Okay, here’s the white lie. My kids come to visit with their young’uns, and they always forget to bring snow clothes, so they buy more and leave it with us. Now that the kids have outgrown everything, Tony’s been bitching at me to clean out our closet, and with the bad weather, I tackled that chore. I meant to take everything to Good as New, but as I was tossing stuff in a bag, I thought of her and her little girl and decided to ask if they needed anything. She took a minute to say yes, but then she volunteered their sizes.”

  “You’re an angel, Myrna.”

  “I’m a good liar when I need to be. So here’s what you do. I told her I’d have you stop by here to pick up the clothes. Since she may watch from a window, you’ll leave here with a garbage bag stuffed with newspaper. Act like it’s heavy. Once back in your truck, do the switch, replacing the newspaper with the clothes. And for God’s sake, don’t forget to remove the tags and stickers. Tony doesn’t when he gives me gifts.”

  “Got it,” Jeb said, grinning so broadly his cheeks ached. “And God love you, Myrna. You’ve got a heart of gold.”

  Still smiling after he broke the connection, Jeb
finished shopping and returned to the clothing section. For Amanda, he found a blue down-filled parka with a hood trimmed in fake fur. He also got her some matching snow pants and boots, plus a pair of pull-on, low-cut shoes that were waterproof. For Chloe, he chose pink all the way. He forgot gloves, hats, and mufflers, causing him to make a U-turn. Tags and stickers. He had to remove those. They’d be a dead giveaway.

  The older lady running one of the registers had dyed black hair swirled up into a stiff cone atop her head. Face slathered with makeup, she looked like an alien. When she saw Jeb using his knife to remove the tags from his purchases, she said, “Oh, darling, let me help.”

  Darling? Jeb gave her a study and realized, with a lurch of his stomach, that she was coming on to him. Shit. She was older than his mother. She went to work with a small pair of scissors, her long scarlet nails flashing.

  Kate Rush, a twentysomething blonde whose sister, Misty Baker, owned the Cherokee Rose florist shop on Seven Curves Road, caught Jeb’s gaze and winked at him, a telltale sign that he wasn’t the only man this older gal had victimized.

  “Are these gifts?”

  Jeb jerked his attention back to the man hunter. When she smiled, her caked cheeks creased with more lines than a road map. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She flapped a hand. “Don’t call me ma’am, you handsome thing. My name is Bernice Kaley, Bernie to my friends, and I’d love to count you as one.”

  Jeb was afraid she’d give him her phone number next. She studied his credit card before swiping it.

  “Jebediah Sterling. Now that is a masculine name if ever I’ve heard one.”

  Jeb made his escape as fast as possible. Circling the store to the parking lot, he threw all his purchases onto the truck’s backseat and then walked across the icy asphalt to Flagg’s Market, where he could buy cases of bottled water.

  * * *

  Amanda felt as nervous as a kitten in an overpopulated dog kennel. Because of the fabulous meal Jeb had thrown together last night, she felt less than confident about preparing his lunch. Ridiculous. That voice in her brain whispering how stupid and ineffective she was at everything was Mark’s, not her own. She was a good cook. Mark had demanded tasty meals, forcing her to create great dishes on a limited budget. She could surely make Jeb Sterling a hot dish that would please him.

  Her shoes had dried, so she put them on. When she looked out a window, she shivered even though the house was toasty. Power lines thick with ice. Trees that looked frozen solid. If she were out in that weather, she’d want a hot meal, too.

  Chloe sat at the table drawing on paper filched from Jeb’s office trash as Amanda removed loaves of bread from the oven. Bozo, snoozing beside the girl, suddenly lifted his gigantic head and released a happy “Woof!” Amanda suspected Jeb had pulled up in his truck. Chloe cast her a panicked look.

  “He’s going to see the bathroom, Mommy. I just know it.”

  Amanda had laid out a towel and soap by the kitchen sink, hoping to keep Jeb out of there. She heard the front door open, followed by the clank of chains on the slate.

  “I’m home!” he called, his deep voice reaching them in the kitchen.

  Followed by Bozo and Chloe, Amanda went to meet him. Standing in the entry hall with a bulging black trash bag at his feet, he pulled a wet stocking cap off his head. His burnished face was red from the cold, and his tawny hair stood up in spikes. Amanda had never seen so handsome a man, not because he was GQ perfect, but because he looked good without trying. “Man, this house smells divine!” Indicating the garbage sack with a dip of his head, he added, “That’s from Myrna across the road. She called me on my cell and asked me to drop by her place to pick it up.”

  “Her kids left a bunch of outerwear at her house, and Tony asked her to get rid of it. She called to see if Chloe and I might want some of it, asked our sizes, and said she’d set aside whatever would fit us. The rest is going to Good as New.”

  Jeb stripped off his soiled leather gloves and smoothed his hair. “I’ve still got houses to visit, so I’m short on time. Let me shed a few layers, wash up, and I’ll be ready to eat.”

  Chloe, leaning against Amanda’s leg, stiffened. “I, um, laid out soap and a towel for you by the kitchen sink,” Amanda said, her voice wobbly with nervousness.

  He laughed. “My hands are too filthy for that. Frozen traps, sewer lines, you name it. I don’t want all those germs in the kitchen. Be right in.”

  Chloe made a soft bleating sound that made Amanda’s heart twist. “I can disinfect the kitchen sink,” she tried. “I have a towel and a bar of soap all laid out for you in there.” Please, God, don’t let him go in that bathroom. “It’ll be nicer. That way, you can fill us in on your day while you wash up.”

  “I’ll fill you in over lunch,” he replied.

  Jeb divested himself of his jacket, kicked off the chained boots, gave the growling Bozo a pat on the head, and then walked in stocking feet around Amanda and Chloe toward the bathroom. Chloe spun to follow him.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Jeb. I didn’t mean to do it!”

  Jeb froze with his hand on the door handle. “Do what, honey?”

  Amanda could see Chloe trembling and wished she had a weapon. Her insides clenched tight, she took a step toward her daughter.

  Jeb opened the bathroom door, stared at the disaster for a second, and then said, “Holy Toledo, what happened here?”

  Chloe started to sob.

  Chapter Five

  Jeb stared in amazement at his once-beautiful bathroom. The foam Chloe had sprayed on everything but the walls had gone watery and dripped, leaving pools of liquid white on the countertops and the slate floor. He’d dealt with some pretty awful messes in his day, which went with the territory when you raised livestock, but he had never witnessed a bathroom attack.

  It wasn’t really funny, especially considering Chloe’s distress, but Jeb felt an urge to laugh swelling at the base of his throat. He kept a spray can of bubble cleaner in one of the vanity cupboards, which he used to clean the porcelain sinks, and he chose to use it for precisely the same reason that Chloe had, so the bubbles could do most of the work.

  “This is a quite a disaster,” he found the presence of mind to say.

  “I’m sorry,” Chloe said in a tiny, choked voice.

  Jeb turned to look at the child and saw that she was trembling with apprehension. He swept her up in his arms. She shrieked with fear and pushed against Jeb’s chest, trying to escape his embrace. “Hey, hey, hey,” he crooned. “Don’t be scared, sweetie. I’m not mad.”

  Chloe fixed a swimming brown gaze on his and stilled in his embrace. “You aren’t?”

  Jeb noticed that Amanda stood as stiff as a board and had knotted her slender fists. Fair enough. She’d said in one of her breeze-delivered notes that she’d die before she ever let him—meaning her nameless husband—hurt this child again. So now she expected the worst from Jeb.

  Ignoring the mother, Jeb focused on the little girl, whose body quivered against his chest. He stepped into the bathroom, talking as he bent to fetch the spray can of bubbly bathroom cleaner, which felt half empty. “Of course I’m not mad,” he assured Chloe. “It’s clear that you made a mistake, but I’m betting it was only because you’ve never cleaned a bathroom before.”

  “Nope,” Chloe agreed, still shaking.

  Jeb finally allowed his laughter to erupt. Giving the can a brisk shake, he commenced with spraying the mirror again with snowy white and then turned on a trickle of cold water. “Well, sometimes, the only thing to do when you mess up is to make the best of it. So I think we should have a little fun.”

  “Fun?” Chloe squeaked, but Jeb felt the tension ease slightly from her frame.

  “Fun,” he assured her. “Let’s draw pictures!” He started by drawing a small heart in the foam. Then he rinsed his fingertip in the water. “Your turn.”

 
Chloe stared up at him, her eyes still shadowy with fear. It occurred to Jeb that her father might have sometimes lulled her into believing he wasn’t angry, only to turn on her when she relaxed. The thought nearly broke his heart.

  “It’s okay,” he said in a low voice. “Take your turn. I promise nothing bad will happen.”

  With a still-shaky hand, Chloe drew an arrow through the heart.

  “Cupid’s bow? Very good,” Jeb said. Next he drew a fair replica of his dog’s head, floppy ears included.

  “Bozo!” Chloe giggled. “You forgot his melting lips!”

  “You add them,” he encouraged. “But rinse off first or you’ll smear our picture.”

  The little girl drew what Jeb could recognize as jowls by using his imagination, and then she added zigzag lines dripping from Bozo’s bottom lip.

  “Drool!” Jeb said with a chuckle. “That tells me you’ve been treated to one of his string-slinging moments.”

  Chloe nodded, looking up at Jeb with large, innocent brown eyes. Searching her expression, he saw wonder and incredulity that he wasn’t mad at her. In that moment, Jeb knew he was a goner. It was far too easy to lose one’s heart to a child, any child, but a little girl like Chloe, who’d been mistreated, didn’t merely worm her way into a man’s affections. She crashed right through all his defenses.

  * * *

  Amanda turned her back and walked away so Jeb and Chloe wouldn’t see her tears. She wasn’t sure what kind of reaction she’d been expecting from this man, but she’d never in her wildest dreams thought that he’d turn the bathroom debacle into a game to make her daughter laugh. In the kitchen, after grabbing a paper towel to wipe her face and blow her nose, Amanda washed and dried her hands, and then began slicing the still-warm bread. From the other room, she could hear Chloe giggling and Jeb laughing. Amanda knew Jeb had worked hard all morning, and she found it extraordinary that he could muster the energy during his only break before dark to make a child feel better.