Angels in the Snow (9 page)

T
he pain that gripped Charles's chest was so acute, he wondered if he was having a heart attack. But he'd been given a clean bill of health only a month ago. His doctor had said he was just working too hard. His stomach pains, constant weariness, and occasional chest pains were stress related. Take a vacation, the doctor had advised, and all those symptoms would go away.

But Charles's stresses weren't due to work, and this vacation was making that painfully clear.

Out of habit he crossed to the landline and lifted the receiver to his ear. Not a sound. He tried his own phone, too, then resisted the urge to throw the damn thing against the wall. What good was the best damn phone money could buy, if it didn't work in an emergency?

Footseps hurried up the stairs. He heard Judith's voice and then Marilyn's. Lucy laughed out loud and Jennifer began to giggle. Then Joe Walker called for Robbie and Alex, and in a moment footsteps clattered down the stairs. The three came through the kitchen and Charles immediately straightened his posture. His hands tightened on the kitchen counter when Alex went by without glancing up at all. Robbie followed, shooting Charles a quick curious glance as he hurried past.

Joe hesitated when the two boys went outside. But Charles's rigid posture must have warned him away. With a sigh the man pulled a knit hat down over his ears and joined the boys.

Charles couldn't help himself. He rubbed a clear spot on the kitchen window to watch them. Joe had an ax. He'd probably found it in the basement. Now he had both boys out by a chopping block. Charles had a hard time imagining the banker, Rogers, cutting firewood. But Joe Walker fit the image. And that realization bothered Charles.

There had been a time when he'd fit that image, too. Back when he'd been a young man visiting his grandparents, he'd cut more than his share of wood. But Alex didn't know that. Charles had never even thought about teaching Alex how to chop wood. They purchased it by the cord for the fireplaces at home.

His brow creased as he realized that Alex probably saw him only as a businessman, barely able to build a fire, let alone cut the fuel for it.

He watched in increasing despair as Joe had the boys haul several unsplit logs nearer. Even through the driving snow, Charles could see the interest on Alex's face as the man gestured and explained. Then with just a few well-aimed blows, Joe split the log.

Alex gathered up the pieces while Joe positioned another log. Robbie took the ax then, and went to work. Although it took him several more swings, he, too, quickly reduced the heavy log to more manageable fuel for the fireplace. Robbie did another, and then another, but Charles didn't watch the youngster work. His eyes were trained on Alex, who was standing off to the side with Joe.

The man had his hand on Alex's shoulder as he spoke to him. He said something and Alex laughed. A full, unrestrained grin lifted the boy's face, and once more Charles felt an ache in the vicinity of his heart. Why couldn't he bring that kind of expression to Alex's face? Maybe if they played some tennis . . .

Finally it was Alex's turn. Joe showed him how to hold the ax: left hand near the curved end, right hand free to slide with the stroke. He showed Alex how to judge the correct distance he should be from the log, and how to position his feet. Then he and Robbie stood back to the side.

Swirling snow coated the three figures outside and gave the scene a Christmas-card quality. Alex looked over at Joe and said something that caused him and Robbie both to laugh. Charles wished he knew what it was.

He watched with tensed posture as Alex lifted the heavy ax and then swung. Too tentative, he thought, as the metal head glanced off the log, toppling it over. Joe and Robbie both came forward with advice and gestures. Alex nodded, then righted the log. His brow was creased in concentration as he focused on the log. Once more he swung, and this time the ax bit deep into the seasoned oak.

He mimicked Joe's and Robbie's earlier actions to knock the log free, then positioned it again. It took him almost twice as many swings to split the log as it had taken Robbie, and he was blowing hard when he finished. But the expression on his face was exultant.

Joe clapped him on the back and Robbie handed him a wood chip from among the pieces scattered in the snow. Alex grinned and slipped it into his pocket. Joe took the ax and split several more logs before handing it on to Robbie. They continued on that way, the three of them taking turns with the work while the stack of fuel grew and grew.

They talked as they worked, and though their cheeks and noses grew ruddy with the cold, they clearly were warmed by their activity. Charles, by contrast, grew colder and colder. He shivered in the frigid kitchen and his teeth chattered, but still he could not tear himself away from the window. Only when he saw them lay the ax aside and begin to gather up the wood did he step away. Before the trio could reenter the kitchen, he retreated to the living room.

He noticed at once that the chaos in the room had disappeared. Though the room was a far cry from the contemporary sleekness its designer had intended, its new coziness was much more appealing. Rugs covered the gleaming wood floors almost entirely. The upholstered furniture was clustered tightly before the fire, with a low coffee table in the middle. Quilts and comforters from the bedrooms were folded over the backs of the couches and chairs so that anyone could easily snuggle up for warmth. The dinner table and chairs took up the corner near the now curtained-off dining room.

Though it was still not toasty warm in the big room, the fire Joe had built earlier had settled down and now was exuding a steady, glowing heat. Josie was curled up in one of the big chairs, fast asleep with her thumb in her mouth. Judith sat in the chair next to her. Although her eyes were closed, Charles was certain she wasn't asleep.

Jennifer and the other girl were sitting cross-legged before the fire. The Monopoly board was set up on the coffee table. Paper money, dice, and yellow and orange cards were spread out, forgotten for the moment as they both leaned over to look into the rabbit's box.

“Leave the poor animal to rest,” Marilyn mildly rebuked the two as she bent forward, potholder in hand. She fiddled with several cast-iron rods attached to one side of the massive fireplace and finally managed to make them swing forward past the main heat of the fire. She looked up with a pleased expression on her face. When she saw Charles watching her, she smiled.

“Whoever built this house did us an enormous favor by including these swivel pot hangers in their new fireplace.”

“I'm sure it was done for its picturesque quality, not for any real cooking,” he replied.

“Well, picturesque they may be, but they're practical, too. Cooking will be much easier if we don't have to set everything directly in the coals.”

The fire flamed a bit, heralding the entrance of the woodcutters on a cold gust of air.

“Ahh, does it feel good in here,” Joe exclaimed. He put his stack of wood down in one corner, then crossed to Marilyn.

“Good lord!” she squeaked when he gave her a hug, nuzzling his reddened nose against her neck. “You're as frozen as a snowman!”

She twisted in his arms and put her hands against his cheeks, then shook her head in mock exasperation. She glanced over at the two boys. “I hope you didn't chop off any fingers or toes. Until you thaw out, you wouldn't even feel their loss.”

“Man, you should have seen Alex. He never chopped wood before today, but he did real good!”

“Did you save a chip?” Marilyn asked as she pulled Joe's hat off.

“Yeah, right here.” Alex produced the chip. “Robbie said I have to carve something out of it.”

“Is that an old custom?” Charles stepped forward, nearer the circle that had formed in front of the fireplace.

Joe shrugged out of his heavy coat. “I don't know how old it is. My grandparents celebrated every ‘first.' First tooth. First step. First word and every other first. Each of their kids had a little treasure box for all kinds of ‘first' mementos. My folks did the same for us, and now we do the same for ours.” He reached down to tousle Lucy's hair. “I thought we'd never get a lock from this one's head.”

Jennifer peered at Lucy. “You've never cut your hair?”

“ 'Course I have. Mom cut my bangs when I was eight.” She poked out her lower lip and blew a puff that lifted her bangs. She grinned when they fell back in a straight silky line. “They saved my first tooth, too. Gross, huh?”

Jennifer switched her gaze to her mother. “Do you have my first tooth? Or hair from my first haircut?”

Charles answered. “Of course we do. In your baby book. Don't we, Jude?”

Judith lifted her gaze to his. “Yes, we do.”

“That
is
gross,” Alex interjected. But for once his grin was good-natured. “Watch out, Lucy. Jenn invents her own rules in Monopoly.”

“I do not.”

“You guys want to play?” Lucy asked. She scooted over to make room for them to sit. “We can start again, can't we, Jennifer?”

Jennifer stared up at her brother, then over at Robbie, who was already shedding his coat and crossing to them. “Sure,” she finally said. She edged over as well, then followed Lucy's lead by collecting the paper money and redistributing it in four equal piles.

Charles stared at the scene before him. The four children gathered around the low table, amicably jostling for the most comfortable positions. They took the pillows Judith handed them, then settled down to the serious business of rolling the dice.

Joe and Marilyn sat on the hearth and talked quietly while Joe tested the coffee sitting in a pot to the side. He started to tuck a loose strand of Marilyn's hair behind her ear, but stopped first to wipe the soot from his hand before finishing the gesture.

Charles looked away and met Judith's hooded gaze. He shifted from his left foot to his right. Finally he moved to one of the couches.

“Why don't you come sit over here,” he began, indicating the couch. “It'll be warmer.”

“I've got this spot all heated up,” she answered after only a brief hesitation. “There's a comforter behind you.”

“That's okay.”

There was an awkward silence between them that not even the children's chatter and the Walkers' quiet conversation could disguise. He felt defeated already. But with no alternative—no other rooms warm enough to retreat to and no phone or television for distraction—Charles sat down on one of the couches. Just beyond his feet Lucy perched on her knees, shaking the dice in her hands, trying to talk the plastic cubes into the best pattern for her.

“Six. Yes!” She moved her piece forward with six enthusiastic jabs.

“Marvin Gardens. Don't waste your money on it,” Robbie advised her. “I already own one of the yellow ones, and Alex has the other. It doesn't do you any good to buy it.”

Charles leaned forward. “No real estate investment is ever a bad idea. If nothing else, you can always trade it. Before this game is done, I guarantee someone will want it.”

Lucy looked over her shoulder at him and grinned. “All right. I'll buy it.”

Robbie and Alex both groaned, but Jennifer laughed. “My dad knows everything about real estate.”

“Real estate?” Lucy asked.

“Yeah. You know, buying land and buildings and stuff. Just like in Monopoly. Only he builds
real
hotels.”

Joe looked up. “A real estate developer? I guess business must be a little down these days.”

Charles relaxed back on the couch. “For some people. But a tight economy doesn't have to be a curse. There's always a good deal waiting to be made if you're smart. The people who lose out are the short-term players. If you plan for the long haul, you'll always come out to the good.”

Joe nodded and glanced at the game board as Alex rolled the dice and moved his piece. “We bought nineteen acres a long time ago. North of Edgard. Built a dome first, then later on we built a bigger house.”

“A dome?” Charles grinned. This family was even stranger than he'd thought.

“Yeah.” Joe looked at him with a patient expression, much like a tolerant parent gives a difficult child. “We built it in one long weekend with the help of a lot of friends. I'm sure you can appreciate the fact that for less than two thousand dollars, we built almost a thousand square feet of space that's still in use twenty years later. With only routine upkeep, I might add.”

Charles studied the other man. “Not a bad return on your investment. Too bad I can't get free labor for the new hotel, eh, Jude? 'Course, I don't think the Neighborhood Preservation Center would go for a dome, anyway.”

It irritated Charles to no end that the man's tolerant expression didn't change, except perhaps to become a trifle amused. What in the hell did a wannabe hippie who lived in a dome find amusing about him? He lived in a mansion in the finest neighborhood available. He employed close to a hundred people and kept over five hundred construction workers busy on a pretty regular basis. All this guy did was live in the boondocks and sell cheap art.

“A dome isn't for everyone,” Joe agreed. “Have you ever been in one?”

“It's cool,” Robbie threw in. “You can stand in a certain spot and just whisper, and someone in another certain spot can hear you really well.”

“It feels like you're inside the world. Like inside a globe,” Lucy chimed in. “Mom's big loom is in China. Dad's easels are in California, and the wood stove is in the Middle East.”

“That's 'cause it's the hot spot of the world right now,” Robbie explained. “Hey, it's my turn.” He took the dice from Jennifer. “Anyway, you guys should come visit us one day. You'd like the dome a lot.”

“We have our own swimming hole, too,” Lucy added.

“We have a swimming pool,” Jennifer replied. “And a three-car garage and a
huge
rec room in the basement.”