by Ann Aguirre
And time was running out.
At four in the morning on Friday, I paced, trying to be quiet, conscious that I might be bothering Ty. Sure, I could structure something on a lesson plan I found online, but I wanted to be better than that. I sank onto the living room floor, surrounded by a sea of balled-up papers. Anyone could copy other people’s ideas; that seemed like the mark of a very by-the-book teacher, exactly the kind I didn’t want to be.
But staring at the crumpled pages gave me an idea. I didn’t have any on hand, and it was kind of old-school, but maybe— I got out my tablet and checked a couple of things. This is better. This can totally work. I stayed up all night printing up cards and then I stopped at a convenience store on the way to C-Cool to buy a newspaper. We’d need more for Wednesday, of course, provided Ms. Parker agreed.
She was in a good mood, smiling as she taught the lesson and then broke the kids into small groups. Her sets were never random, either; she put students together based on how well they could work together, often with complementary skills. It felt like I had an American eagle flapping around my guts while I waited for her to review my materials.
“This is a great idea,” she said finally. “I suspect most of their parents don’t even have subscriptions, so they don’t look at newspapers very often. This is an interesting twist on vocabulary sentences.”
I beamed. “So I’ll be teaching on Wednesday?”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Somehow I contained my excitement until I got out to the parking lot. Then I did a little dance beside my car. I still had some stuff to put together, but at least I had a firm direction now. The good mood carried me home, singing, so I was rocking out as I parked the Toyota. Max zoomed up as I got out, but he didn’t look happy. In fact, I’d rarely seen him so pissed off.
“Lauren trouble?” I guessed.
“I took your advice,” he said flatly. “But she shut me down.”
“Oh shit, Max, I’m sorry.” Lauren tended to play her cards close to the vest; she was quick with a joke and a hug, but digging beneath the surface took time, effort and a sharp trowel. Maybe I needed to do some gardening.
“It’s not like it came as a complete surprise, after what happened.” That had to be a cryptic reference to their shared secret. “But...it’s good to have closure, I guess. She also said there’s somebody else.”
“Huh?” Max was the last guy she’d mentioned to me, but only to say that sleeping with him had been a mistake. I hated to be the one to break it to him, but... “Sometimes we use that as an excuse when we aren’t into the guy asking us out. What exactly did she say?”
“‘Let’s not make this complicated. We both know this isn’t going anywhere.’ So I went for it, like you suggested. I said, ‘Lauren, there hasn’t been anyone else for a while because I’ve been into you for, like, six months.’ She got this sad look, shook her head and goes, ‘You only think that. You don’t really know me. Nobody does.’”
“That’s slightly alarming. I wonder what’s going on with her.”
“No idea.” He sighed, climbing off his bike. “So tell me, Conrad, how do you get over a broken heart?” His tone was facetious, but I could tell he was hurting.
I shrugged. “Nobody’s ever broken mine.”
Max wore a layered, disquieting expression. “Give him time.”
I followed his gaze toward the building, toward apartment 1B, and I couldn’t honestly say that he was wrong. But knowing it would probably end badly for Ty and me, it wasn’t enough to warn me off. I only needed to think of him for the sweeping warmth to carry me under, drowning me in dreams of him.
“You’re probably right. I should quit him, before it’s too late. But forewarning won’t make me wise.”
“It never does,” Max said softly.
As he already knew, some mistakes had to be made in glorious color, as the sweetness of irreplaceable memories lasted forever, long after the ache of loss faded.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The rest of December flew by in a rush. I nailed the teaching aspect of my lesson plan; the kids were engaged when looking for vocabulary words in the newspaper, and nobody melted down. After that, I kept my head down and crammed for finals while also getting ready for the holidays. We got a tiny tree for the apartment and decorated one night while drinking hot mulled wine—courtesy of Angus—and hung up more lights than we really needed.
With little sleep and lots of coffee, I cruised through finals and came out with sanity intact on the other side. Afterward, I did the Christmas shopping; I hesitated over buying anything for Ty, but in the end, I got him a set of quality art pencils. On the way back to the apartment, I mailed presents to my family then wrapped the gifts I bought for my roomies and tucked them beneath the tree.
It was quite a luxury not to have anything on my plate but work for a couple of weeks, almost like a vacation. On Christmas day, we cooked an actual holiday meal, though Angus used us all like sous-chefs, telling us to open this or chop that. At three in the afternoon, we sat down to ham, baked potatoes, carrot-raisin salad and fried Brussels sprouts. For dessert, Lauren and I had made sugar cookies the day before. In lieu of fancy china, we’d bought some festive holiday party plates, mostly so we didn’t have to wash them. Some people fought with their roommates or they were indifferent to them, but I loved mine. Maybe it was because we’d all been friends for a while, but they felt like family, and at this time of year, when we couldn’t go home, it made all the difference.
“So what’re we doing Friday night?” Angus asked, as we settled in the living room to watch Christmas Vacation. The best thing about that movie was how much better it always made me feel about my own holiday plans.
“It’s Ty’s weekend,” I answered, before I considered how that sounded.
As expected, Max pounced on that. “You mean we’re in a shared-custody situation? Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have spent more quality time with you.”
“Shut up.” Normally, I’d make a crack about his love life sucking, and that was why he was so fascinated by mine, but that seemed insensitive.
“Are you just hanging out at his place again?” Lauren asked.
“He’s got something planned. Not sure what, but he told me to pack winter gear.”
“Well, that narrows it down,” Angus said.
I waved my hands at them, pretending to focus on the movie, like I hadn’t been obsessing over this surprise for weeks. Only two more days. I was on schedule for a full-day eight-hour shift tomorrow and Friday, so the other teachers could spend more time with their families. Fortunately, working kept me from becoming too impatient.
And then it was Friday. So many kids were out for the holidays that we combined into two classes. Regular lesson plans went out the window, and we mostly showed cartoons while they played. Only five of us were working: me, two other teachers, the assistant director and Louisa, who didn’t seem pleased about making kiddie lunches so soon after Christmas. Sam wasn’t at school, so Ty must be taking some vacation days and spending them with his family.
Can’t wait to see him.
I got home at half past six, waved to Lauren and Angus, and went immediately to my room to start packing. Lauren followed me back, perching on the edge of her bed to watch me dig for a down vest. Something in her expression nudged at my memory, and then I knew. This was how she looked when she wasn’t sure how I’d react.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
None of my cajoling got her to talk. Eventually, she just said, “Have fun, okay?”
Bemused, I nodded, and she went back to the living room. I had the feeling she wanted to have a heart-to-heart, but maybe now wasn’t the time. I set out my best pair of winter boots and packed a spare set, just in case. Jeans, a thick sweater, my coat, hat and scarf. Gloves...here they are. Soon, I had all of my overnight stuff in a small rolling suitcase that I rarely used.
Good timing, too. Because Ty texted me soon after,
much earlier than I expected.
I’m downstairs. Ready for an adventure?
OMW, I sent back.
Quickly, I shrugged into my coat and hat, grabbed my purse and suitcase, and ran for the door. “Have a great weekend, guys. See you Sunday.”
“You sound far too excited,” Angus said with mock-disapproval.
He and Lauren hugged me, then I darted off to find out Ty’s big secret. He was waiting downstairs by the front door with his own luggage. As I ran toward him, he picked me up and swung me around, then planted a firm hello kiss on me. His expression shifted, melted, and it was almost too much for me to bear. I understood what he meant when he talked about my face showing him everything, because now I was getting it back.
“You always look so damn happy to see me,” he said, low. “And it’s like a fist in my gut, every time. I wait for it not to happen, for you to get used to me, or maybe you’re tired or you had a bad day, so you’re in no mood to shine, but no. There’s always that smile. Yeah,” he added, touching my lower lip. “That one. Ready?”
Without waiting for my answer, he grabbed both our suitcases and led the way to his car. The night was cold but clear. He’d left his car running, right by the front doors, so it was deliciously warm when he tucked me into it. Those small gestures stole my heart, again and again, until I was helpless with it.
“I’m so excited. How far are we going?”
“Just a couple of hours. We should be there by nine.”
“Oh, my God, tell me already.”
“You really want to know?”
I shot him a look that could’ve steamed paint off a wall. “Yes.”
“My boss, Bill, has a friend who runs a ski lodge north of here. It’s a beautiful place, downhill and cross-country trails. I asked him to hook us up with a getaway package as part of my holiday bonus.”
“Wow.” I was stunned to silence. “You need the money for school, right? I hope it wasn’t—”
“If I didn’t want this, we wouldn’t be in the car.”
“Then thank you. I brought warm clothes like you said. But you should know, I’m not a very good skier.”
“We’ll work on it. But there’s also sledding, snowmobiling and an ice-skating pond. Pretty much the whole winter wonderland.”
Suddenly, the art pencils I’d gotten him didn’t seem like enough, and to cover my sense that our footing had shifted, I asked, “How was your Christmas?”
“I spent the night with my parents, so they could be there when Sam opened all of his presents. He loves their house because my mom goes all out. It’s like a holiday store exploded and my dad spends two full days decorating outside.”
“The power bill must be insane.”
“No shit, he builds it into the budget annually, that leap in wattage.”
“It sounds fun. Did your sisters come?”
“Valerie’s here, spoiling Sam rotten. Sarah couldn’t make it.” When he talked about them like this, it made me feel like I knew them, too.
“I was wondering...does Sam ever see Diana’s parents?” Her leaving didn’t change the fact that they were his grandparents, too.
“Two or three times a year. They live in Arizona, and they don’t get here very often. Her dad is in a wheelchair, and it’s rough on him to travel.”
“Oh.”
“But they Skype with him and send presents. They’re still looking for her,” he added quietly. “Talking about hiring a private detective, last I heard.”
Wow. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked. “Sorry if that was—”
“No, it’s okay. The worst thing about it is, they don’t blame me for putting her in this situation. They blame her for ‘running away.’” With a determined air, he changed the subject. “Hey, how were finals?”
Gratitude rippled through me. By now, I should know better than to ask anything about Diana. The answers always made me sad. “I lived. Pretty sure I scored well enough to hang in for another semester.”
“If I know you at all, you did way better than that.” Ty glanced at me, smiling, and the softness of his eyes, his mouth, seemed light-years away from the tense, angry guy I’d met back in late August. In fact, even talking about Diana didn’t dent his mood as much as it did before.
Four months. I’ve known him four months.
“I aced my teaching practicum.” Saying it out loud sounded so much like bragging, but the words sent a happy thrill through me.
“That’s fantastic.” As we drove, I told him about the first failed idea and the all-nighter that resulted in the second one.
Ty nodded. “I heard you pacing. Some nights it’s tough, knowing you’re right upstairs.”
The darkness and the rhythmic rush of the road beneath the tires made it easier to admit, “For me, too. Sometimes I do have a terrible day and you’d make it better. Even being tired, broke, whatever, none of it would seem as bad with you.”
His breath caught, and then he wrapped his fingers around mine and carried my hand to his mouth. “You take another little piece of me every time you open your mouth. You know that, right?”
“I’m not trying to.”
“Nadia. You don’t have to try.” Months later, I still got that little flutter at the way his voice deepened around my name, like the syllables tasted different on his tongue.
I turned the music on then, trying to cover the way my hands trembled. It wasn’t right that he could move me this much. I had no defense against his honesty. Ty was everything real and raw, a brightness that superimposed upon me long after I looked away, and he had no fucking idea that for me, this was so much more than sex or friendship. It was a need that hammered in my heart, etched into the secret underside of my skin and tapped away at my bones.
For the rest of the drive, we sang along with the radio, and I let my feelings settle to a low simmer. Otherwise, I probably would’ve cried all over my sleeve. But my first glimpse of the resort stole my breath, shoving other concerns to the back of my mind. As promised, it was a winter wonderland with a chalet-style lodge and glimmering lights along the trails. Wisps of smoke swirled heavenward from cabins farther into the woods, and more lights ringed the ice-skating pond, where graceful figures twirled and spun, lending the place an enchanted air.
Ty drove us past the icy marvels and parked, then he got our bags out of the trunk. “Let’s get checked in. I don’t know about you but tonight, I just want some room service. We can hit the ground running tomorrow.”
“Sounds fantastic.”
“Did I mention the suite has a spa tub?” Though his tone sounded innocent, his eyes were not.
“Somehow, no.”
Outside, the lodge was impressive. Inside, it offered rustic elegance by way of polished stone and wood beams. A roaring fireplace dominated the lobby, and across the way, five or six people were drinking at the bar. The receptionist was quick and efficient, giving him forms to sign and explaining the amenities succinctly.
Once she processed the reservation and handed Ty the key, she asked, “Do you need help with your bags?”
“No, we’ve got it. Thanks.” Then he turned to me. “We’re on the third floor. Elevator’s this way. Come on, sweetness.” He didn’t hug me but he might as well have as he took charge of the luggage again.
The other guests were older, and I wondered how we looked to them. Maybe I just felt weird because I’d never done anything like this before. Nobody paid us any attention as we crossed the lobby and went to check out our room. Which was gorgeous. A king-size bed piled high with satiny pillows caught my eye right away. The oatmeal carpet was plush beneath my feet when I kicked off my boots, and the bathroom was bigger than the one Lauren and I shared.
Yeah, that tub’s definitely big enough for two.
“It’s beautiful,” I said aloud.
“I’ve never been here but Bill loves it. Of course, he’s fifty-eight. So I’m guessing it’ll be mostly his age bracket and maybe a few families.”
“I’m not nec
essarily looking to make new friends,” I said.
“That’s a relief. Because I feel pretty antisocial.”
“Should I leave you alone?”
“Not you. Just the rest of the world.” His words hinted that he needed only me, and his gaze confirmed. “Are you hungry?”
I nodded.
“Then let’s find the room service menu.”
We ordered bowls of stew and salad, and when it came, the waiter pushed a linen-covered cart into the room and set the small table up as if we were in a restaurant. He even lit a candle between us, so my amazement was overflowing when he shut the door. Ty sat down like this was no big deal, but I had the feeling we were getting VIP treatment.
“Getaway package,” he explained as he uncovered the food.
As we ate, he told me about his week. “Things have slowed down at work. With the ground frozen, there’s a limit on what we can do. No new sites until March or so, which means we’re limited to renovations.”
“Because the crew can work inside?”
“Yeah, but Bill hates reno jobs, calls it nickel-and-dime bullshit, but those little jobs keep us in the black until we can take bigger projects in the spring.”
“Does that mean less work for you? Is it easier to manage?”
“Somewhat. This is the laid-back part of the year.”
After we finished, Ty tidied up the table and carried the dishes to the cart, then pushed it back into the hall. A warm flush went through me when he put the DO NOT DISTURB tag on the door and flipped the lock. It seemed like much longer than two months since we’d been naked in the same room.
“You look...determined,” I whispered.
“I told myself I’d be cool, but I don’t think that’s possible between us. I want you so much, and it’s been a million years since I touched you. Is it... Are you—”