Dust of Snow (10 page)

It became harder and harder to care about any
of it as the scent of spicy massage oil drove the thoughts from my
mind and the aches from my body. I decided to see this lady and her
magic fingers twice a month.

I’d arranged to take Mother out to dinner
that night, and I felt as if I could breathe again after the
massage. The Christmas lights had been lit in Rochester, giving
Main Street a cozy, fairy-like glow. We went to a new all-organic
restaurant where we ate freshly made mushroom ravioli and drank
surprisingly good organic red wine.

“Have you heard from Dad?” I asked as always
while I eyed the chocolate mocha cheesecake.

“No,” Mother said. Her head was down, and she
played with a ring on her middle finger. I noticed the wedding ring
she’d never taken off in as long as I’d known her was nowhere to be
seen. The indent of it, as well as the paleness of years of missed
sunlight, was still starkly visible. “But there is something I
should tell you.”

“Oh?” I refilled our wineglasses, afraid of
what had her shoulders so stiff, her mouth so pursed.

“I’m seeing someone.”

“Oh, thank fuck.” I knocked back the entire
wineglass in one go, coughing a little as it burned on the way
down. “Pardon my French.”

Mother’s eyes twinkled like she was laughing
on the inside. “What on earth did you think I was going to tell
you?”

“That you’d be getting back together with
Dad. I don’t think I could stand the thought now that I know
he’s—”

“Gregory!”

“Sorry, Mother.” She was grinning though, and
after I’d washed the wine down with some water, I grinned too. “So,
who is he? Where did you meet? You sure he isn’t after your
fortune?”

“I’m sorry to inform you there is no fortune,
Gregory. I know it’s a shock.” She waited until I stopped laughing.
“And it’s not… a he.” I dropped the napkin I’d been patting my
mouth with, but Mother barreled on. “I met her at the pool. We
started to talk, and we had a lot in common, so we went for a few
lunches. They became dates.”

I gaped, and my brain attempted to process
this. Mother the
lesbian
? “I didn’t—I didn’t know…” I
croaked. “That you, uh…” Licked the other side of the stamp,
Patricia’s voice echoed in my head. I suppressed a giggle that
would have sounded slightly manic.

“Neither did I, and I don’t know if I am,
it’s just… We get on so well, and she makes me feel so good,
Gregory.”

“That’s great.” I really did think so. “It’s
great she makes you happy.”

She leaned forward. “Yes,” she said, voice
low. “But that’s not what I meant.” Oh God, no. “She’s so full of
life, so vibrant, so
skilled
.”

“Can I have another bottle of wine, please?”
I accosted the waiter who passed our table. “Actually, make that
two.” He didn’t hear me, or ignored me, because I certainly sounded
like a desperate drunk.

“She did this thing with her mouth the other
day… Gregory, I had no idea—”

“CHECK PLEASE,” I bellowed and scrambled
desperately for my wallet. I practically ran from the restaurant,
dragging Mother behind me to the car.

“Gregory,” she huffed. “That was uncalled
for.”

“I’m sorry.” My voice was two octaves higher
than usual. “You took me by complete surprise.”

“I understand,” Mother said demurely, hands
folded in her lap as I clicked my seatbelt on. “But all that aside,
she does make me happy, and I’d love for you two to meet.”

“O-kay.”

“And maybe you could bring a date too. You
really need to get back out there, Gregory. Forget David and meet
someone who’s worthy of you.”

“Uh-huh.” A double date with Mother and her
new lesbian lady friend? I laughed, even though I felt so close to
crying my vision blurred. I thought of Ashley, but that was stupid.
He was probably straight after all anyway.

“There’s something else.”

“I don’t know if I can take it,” I admitted,
perfectly serious while Mother laughed.

“Valerie has two grown-up daughters. They
live in Austin, Texas, and we’ve been invited to spend Christmas
over there. I said I’d have to talk to you first. Valerie said of
course I could bring you along, but…”

Mother sent me sympathetic look as if she
knew my first thought would be,
oh please dear God no
. I
couldn’t think of anything worse, so I sucked up my hurt and
smiled. “Of course you should go. You’ll have a great time. But I
think I’ll pass.”

“I thought you might. But darling, I hate the
thought of you all alone for Christmas.”

“Actually, there are a couple of guys at work
who don’t have families to go to,” I lied. “They meet up for a
Christmas dinner, and I thought I’d go this year.”

“That’s a lovely idea! I don’t want you to be
alone, darling.” Mother squeezed my hand and sat back. “That’s a
whole load off my heart.”

I swallowed, grateful for the darkness in the
car as I switched the engine. “Then it’s settled. It’ll be a great
Christmas for both of us.”

Bah humbug.

SEVEN

ON SATURDAY MORNING—because of course my work ethic
was too solid to get drunk on Thursday—I had a hellish hangover.
Only Curly’s persistent gnawing on one of my eyebrows made me
slither out of bed like a spineless sea creature. I refilled his
food and water bowls, felt my way through making coffee, and
stumbled back upstairs. Hopefully, somewhere between the bath and
the toilet, I’d find the will to live.

I couldn’t wash down more than a piece of
toast with my coffee, laced with painkillers and half a dozen
antacids. At least it took me a long while to remember why exactly
I’d methodically soldiered my way through the liquor cabinet the
night before. When the realization came, I felt mightily stupid.
Why had it hit me so hard Mother was dating a woman? She’d never
given me a hard time about being gay, so why would I? It wasn’t the
idea of her having sex that put me off.

Okay maybe a little, but not more so than if
it had been with a guy. Then why?

I knew, really, but digging the realization
up from under the mountain of denial was more than I could handle
sober and feeling spry, never mind hungover with a bad case of
self-pity. God, I was pathetic.

Dragging David’s boxes to a thrift store
would’ve been a perfect way to steer my thoughts clear of Mother’s
sexual rebirth, but since I didn’t want to end the day feeling
completely suicidal, I put it off. They’d been in my basement for a
year; another week or two wouldn’t make any difference.

Besides, I couldn’t throw out his things
before giving him a chance to come pick them up. I considered
texting him, but after typing and retyping the message I gave up.
Nothing sounded right. I’d leave the boxes for now and e-mail him
tomorrow. Right now, a nap sounded like a much better idea.

“Ms. James! Your coat!” I raced after the
sales manager for our Irish branch, who was feeling no pain—or
cold—after the closing banquet of the annual conference. I dodged
her sloppy thanks and ducked back inside the Marriott lobby just in
time to run right into Carl.

He looked at me with heavy-lidded, tawny
eyes. Something inappropriate was about to happen, I was sure of
it, and I steered him through the revolving door and toward a
waiting cab. He glanced over my shoulder and patted my arm.

“Thank you for all your help,
mon
ami
,” was all he said, and then he piled into the taxi. When I
turned around to hurry back inside, flecks of snow twirling around
me in the artificial light, I nearly bumped into Ashley. I stuffed
my hands into my coat pockets.

“Hey,” he said. “I haven’t seen you in a
while.”

“No.” I looked at the air puffing out of my
mouth.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so…”

I waved it away. “That’s all right. We’ve all
been really busy this week.” I didn’t know if that had been what he
was referring to, but in that moment I didn’t have the strength to
go into anything deeper. I hadn’t seen my house for more than seven
hours a day during the whole week, and quite frankly I couldn’t
deal with whatever Ashley needed to get off his chest. The old me
would’ve felt obliged to stand there and be polite, but the new
me—wait,
was
there a new me? Apparently there was. “Excuse
me,” I said. “I’m needed inside. Happy holidays.”

“Want to share a cab? Since we live so close
to each other.”

“I drove. I never drink at work
functions.”

“Oh, okay. Forget about it. Happy holidays!”
His smile was clearly forced as he began to turn away.

“I’ll give you a ride,” I found myself saying
before I could think properly.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to inconvenience
you.”

“Of course.” Why was I still talking? “It’s
not that late. You could come over and see Curly.”

Ashley’s dimples appeared. “Sure. That would
be cool.”

“Okay.”
Cool
. Was this a date? A
hook-up
? Something more? Something less? None of the
above?

What was epically
uncool
was the very
familiar looking Lexus sitting in my driveway, parked in such a way
I couldn’t even squeeze into my own double garage. I swore under my
breath. Making sure I wasn’t blocking David’s car, I parked at the
curb. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, I did not want to do this with Ashley
here. What was David doing at my house?

“Is something wrong?” Ash asked.

I turned off the engine and faced him. “Look,
I realize this is very rude of me, and I am so sorry, but would you
mind waiting just a minute? I have to take care of something.”

Ashley’s eyes flicked to the Lexus and back
to me. They narrowed. “Is everything okay? Is it your asshole ex or
something?”

I bit back the immediate urge to defend
David. “Yeah, it’s David’s car. I have no idea what he’s doing
here. And I’d rather not make a scene in front of you.” My hands
had tightened into fists in my lap and I forced them to relax. “You
know what? Maybe it would be best if I just took you home.”

“No,” Ashley said sharply. He softened his
tone. “No. I’d like to come in and have some coffee, now that I’m
here.” He quirked a lopsided smile. “Say hello to Curly. I can
wait. It’s no big deal.”

“Okay. This won’t take long.”

I jumped out of my car, leaving the key in
case Ashley got cold, and felt a stab of humiliated anger that I
was forced to leave him outside my house like a damn dog because of
David, who had apparently let himself in with a spare key he’d
claimed high and low he’d returned ages ago.

I found him on my couch stroking Curly—the
whore. Not coming to a halt until I stood so close he had to look
up at me, I held out my hand. “Give it to me.”

Curly jumped out of his lap and went to hide
in his scratch tower. David’s eyes flashed with surprise, but then
he smiled. “Give you what?” he asked innocently.

“No games, David. Give me the key, and then
get out.”

“Maybe you left your back door open.”

I didn’t even respond to that, just raised an
eyebrow and made an impatient motion with my hand. The smile fell
off his face and he stood, forcing me to take a step back. I’d lost
my height advantage, and while David had never laid a hand on me in
all the years we’d been together, my heartbeat kicked up a notch in
nervous dread.

“I just want to talk, like I told you,” David
said. He reached for me, but I dodged him. “I’ve been trying to win
you back, can’t you see that? I know you still love me.”

His words threatened my stability. It would
be so easy to open my arms and let him in. I wouldn’t be alone
anymore. It wouldn’t be perfect, but it would be
something
.
I thought of Ashley waiting in the car. I had no certainties when
it came to him, but he was there. I took a shuddery breath.