Snake in the Glass (3 page)

I stood in the midst of my studio and stared at the new furnace against the back wall. Glass furnaces are seldom pretty things, and this was no exception. But it was clean and whole and, I hoped, properly connected. There was only one way to find out, so I loaded up a new crucible with clear glass, set it in place, and studied the control panel, tweaking a few settings before turning it on. I looked at my watch—I needed to know how long it would take to come to the right temperature to melt the glass. But the interior was glowing nicely. So far, so good.

I could see through the window between the shop and the studio that Nessa had come in and was setting up for the day. I turned my back on the furnace to return to the shop.

“Morning, Nessa. Listen, if Allison is going to be gone for a while, we’ll need to work out some sort of coverage for the shop, although things should be pretty slow while the Gem Show’s on. I can cover some of the time, but I should do some work and build up my inventory of glass, or you won’t have much to sell when business picks up again.”

Before she had a chance to answer, I heard the front door open and close again, and turned to find Cam.
Oh no.
I wasn’t ready to talk to Cam. Unfortunately I had no choice.

“Hi, Em, Nessa. Em, you were snoring away when I came in last night. What were you saying about Allison? She hasn’t answered my phone calls.”

Nope, no way around it. I took a deep breath. “Cam, it’s great to see you. I can’t wait to tell you about the trip, but first I have to talk to you about Allison.” I glanced at Nessa, who was suddenly very busy dusting the glass shelves. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Cam gave me an odd look, then followed me wordlessly out of the shop, up the stairs, and into my home. He barely let me get through the door and shut it before he turned and confronted me. “Is she all right?”

“She’s fine, Cam. It’s just that . . . Why don’t we sit down?”

He remained standing. “Em, you’re waffling, and that’s not like you. Where is she?”

I swallowed. “She’s still in Ireland. She wanted to stay a little longer, since she hasn’t been there since she got out of school, and there are so many relatives to catch up with. . . .”

Cam was staring at me, his eyes cold. “When is she coming back?” he said tightly. “Or maybe I should ask,
is
she coming back?”

Trust Cam to get right to the point. “Cam, I don’t know. It all just came up, and she asked me to tell you—”

He interrupted me, and now I could see that he was angry. “She asked
you
to tell me? She didn’t have the decency to pick up the phone and talk to me?”

“I think she wasn’t sure how to tell you, and she didn’t want to hurt you, so . . .”

“. . . so she took the coward’s way out,” he said, finishing the sentence for me. “And she let you do her dirty work, after all you’ve done for her.” I’d never seen my brother so angry and so icy at the same time.

“Cam, listen to me! She just needs some time to figure things out. The last few months have been hard, and I thought we could use the vacation, go somewhere away from here and have some fun. I wish you could have come with us. . . .” I trailed off. Who was I making excuses for?

Cam’s face changed: his anger faded into sadness. “I wish I had.” I could almost see his pretty castles in the air crumbling before his eyes. The woman he loved had blown him off and hadn’t even bothered to tell him face-to-face. This little scene was as bad as I had expected, and there was nothing I could do about it. I wanted to grab onto Cam and hold him until the pain passed, but it really wasn’t my place to do that. He’d have to deal with it on his own.

“I see,” he muttered, more to himself than to me. “That’s how much I matter to her.” He straightened his shoulders, and I could almost see him shaking off the pain, like a dog shaking water from its coat. “I’m sorry she put you in the middle of this, Em. I thought . . . I don’t know what I thought. Listen, I’ve hauled most of my stuff in and stuck it in the second bedroom. But I’ve lined up a freelance project here. . . . I think I’ll just take a few days, go somewhere else, and work on that, if you don’t mind.”

“Cam, why would I mind? I’m glad you’ve got something to work on. You don’t have to start the new job for another week or two, right?”
If you still want that job, now that your reason for being in Tucson is on another continent.
Well, there was still me, but that wasn’t quite the same thing. And maybe it was a good idea for Cam to be somewhere else while he digested Allison’s betrayal. Or what must feel like a betrayal. I didn’t even dare ask about his plans for apartment hunting. Of course, he was welcome to stay with me as long as he liked, and he knew that. “What’s the company called?”

“SDE.” When I looked blank, he went on. “Sustainable Desert Ecology.”

“Right. Listen, you can hang around through dinner tonight, can’t you? I’d love to tell you about . . .” I censored myself again: the last thing he would want to hear about right now was Ireland. “Hey, Frank’s headed for Tucson. He should be here in a day or two.”

That at least brought a spark of interest. “Frank? What’s he doing here?”

“He said he wanted to see the Gem Show—he’s never been, and he’s heard about it even in Australia. He’s planned to meet up with some people who came for the show.”

“You talked to him?”

“Of course. He was there in Ireland. Oh.” So Cam hadn’t known that either. “I think he came as a surprise for Allison. He even set up a wake of sorts for her mother, his sister.”

“And a good time was had by all, no doubt,” he said bitterly.

“Cam.” I reached out a hand but dropped it again. I was pretty sure there was nothing I could say or do right now that would make him feel better, no matter how much I wanted to. “I’ve got to get some work done, but I’ll be right downstairs. We can talk about this later, okay?”

He shrugged. “I think I’ll take a rain check on dinner—I may be busy. But give me a call on my cell phone when Frank shows up.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say that would help, so I turned and fled.

Downstairs, Nessa looked up when I came in and cocked an eyebrow at me. “That didn’t go well, I take it?”

“As well as you’d expect. Damn! How did I get stuck in the middle of this?”

“Because you have a good heart, Em. And you never know how things will turn out. Besides, I wouldn’t be so quick to write Allison off.”

I leaned against the wall and stared at her. “What, you’re defending her? After what she just did to Cam?” Then I processed what she had said. “You think she’s coming back?”

“We’ll see. Em, I think you have to look at Allison as though she never had a chance to grow up. Her husband kept her isolated from the world, from friends. So she has a lot of catching up to do, and that takes more than a week. I think she’s come a long way since we first met her, but perhaps all our lives might have been easier if Cam hadn’t fallen for her.” When I started to protest, Nessa held up a hand. “What is, is. If she loves him, she’ll be back. When she’s ready.”

“I know—I do understand. I just hope Cam hangs on that long. Right now he’s not a happy camper.” I pushed myself off from the wall. “Well, we’ve got work to do. How were sales while I was gone?”

“About what you’d expect. . . .”

And we were off, immersed in the normal day-today minutiae of running a business.

There was only one interruption: a call from Matt, midafternoon. “Hey, lady, welcome back. How was it?”

“Interesting. Cold. Complicated. Boy, am I glad to be back!”

“Do you have time for dinner tonight?”

“That would be great, if I don’t fall asleep first. My body seems to be stuck in another time zone. But for you I’ll make a special effort.”

He chuckled. “I’ll try to make it early, then. I’ll come by about six.”

“You’re on.” I hung up with a warm feeling somewhere in my chest. I’d missed Matt more than I had expected, and I was curious to discover how it would feel to see him again after we’d been apart for over a week—the longest we’d gone without seeing each other since we’d been together this time around. Or something like that. I shook my head. Time for some business.

My time sense was definitely whacked out, and the day kept alternately stretching and shrinking. The furnace was humming along nicely, but the glass wouldn’t be ready to work with for a while. I reviewed my inventory of pieces on the shelves, trying to figure out what I should fill in. The December holiday season had depleted my stock, and I made a mental note of what pieces had sold well. Another part of my mind reflected on what I had seen in Ireland. The Waterford approach had been interesting, and I had been lucky to grab a chance to talk to their only woman glassmaker, but there wasn’t much about the Waterford technique that I could use in my own work. I didn’t do anything like cutting. In a way, the cut crystal was closer to faceted gemstones than to the more sinuous forms of handblown glass, and that thought brought me back to thinking about the Gem Show.

When I had first moved to Tucson, I had done some of the obligatory touristy things, in what little free time I had. Everyone I met told me the Gem Show was a must-see, but I had been so wrapped up in starting up a business that I never managed to go. Besides, I really didn’t care much about jewelry. But if an insider like Frank was willing to escort me, it might be fun.

I spent the balance of the day doing inventory, ordering supplies, and checking on the glass and the furnace temperature periodically. No problems yet. It was nice that something was working right. Nessa had gone for the day, and I was pottering around the studio, cleaning up, when Matt rapped on the back door. I let him in, and he folded me into his arms. There are times when the strong silent type is nice to have around, and this was one of them. I leaned into him—and realized how upset I was about Cam. I didn’t usually do clingy. I gave the hug another ten seconds, then peeled myself away. “Hi.”

“Hi to you. You look tired.”

“Gee, thanks. But you’re right. This jet lag hasn’t worn off, and I’ve been trying to catch up here, and then there’s this thing with Cam. . . .” I trailed off, uncertain how to start.

“Cam?”

“Let’s talk about it over dinner. Did you want to go somewhere?”

He studied me a moment. “I’ll order a pizza, and we can eat it upstairs. Is Cam here?”

“Yes and no. I think he’s finished moving his stuff in upstairs, but he said he wanted some time alone, so I’m not sure he’ll be back tonight.”

“Right. Well, I’ll call for dinner, and you can close up.”

For once it was nice that somebody else was making the decisions. I didn’t even have to tell him what kind of pizza to order.

I turned off the lights and locked up, and then we made our way up the stairs. When I opened the door, Matt went through the usual greet-the-dogs routine. I took the opportunity to grab a quick shower—after a day working with glass I always felt sticky, even in Tucson’s dry air. By the time I was done, the pizza had arrived, and Matt had produced a six-pack of cold beer. All I had to do was sit and eat. Heaven.

Except I had to explain about Allison and Cam, but Matt was a good listener.

“So I don’t know what to think right now,” I said, finishing the sad tale while working on my third piece of pizza. “I mean, I’m mad at Allison for doing this to Cam, but I do understand. But that makes Cam mad at me. And I hate that Allison put me right in the middle of this instead of facing Cam herself, even long distance.”

Matt cocked his head at me. “You know, you might just let them work it out for themselves. They are adults, right?”

Men. “Yes, but I feel kind of responsible. You know, Cam’s pretty new at falling in love. And Nessa thinks that Allison’s kind of ”—I struggled to find the right word—“emotionally immature, thanks to her jerk of a husband. So they both need to grow up a bit, I guess. But I do think they’re good together. Maybe.” What did I know? My own romantic track record sucked.

At least, until now. After a rocky start, maybe Matt and I were headed in the right direction. And I didn’t spend too much time gnawing on that, did I? Maybe he had a point: let Cam and Allison be, to find their own way.

I stood up to throw away my paper plate. Matt came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me, and it felt good. I turned within the circle of his arms, and it felt even better. After a while, I said, “You know, we could sit down.”

“We could,” he agreed gravely.

We did.

Unfortunately, once I sat down, I went to sleep. Damn jet lag.

I woke up to find myself alone on the couch. Matt
had vanished, but not before throwing a light blanket over me. Sweet of him: even in Tucson, nights can be cold in February. Fred and Gloria sat in front of the couch staring at me eagerly. “Yeah, yeah, I know—breakfast.” I hauled myself to my feet and dished up for them. The sky was sort of light, so I guess I’d managed to sleep a little longer than I had the day before. Give me a week and I might get back to normal, whatever that was.

I peeked into Cam’s room, but it was empty save for a bed, a few pieces of furniture, and his many mismatched boxes. Cam and I, we traveled light—although I did own a building (well, me and the bank), which was more than he could say. I deduced that he had taken himself off to parts unknown to lick his wounds, as promised. I had no idea where that might be, but I didn’t think I was his favorite person right at this moment. Poor baby. But he’d survive, I was sure.

I reviewed my day as I munched on a stale English muffin. Obviously shopping for food was high on the list, if I wanted to eat. I knew the dogs wanted to eat. I wasn’t sure when Cam would be back, but he would need feeding too. I leafed through the stack of newspapers that Nessa had left in a tidy pile for me. Nothing urgent: same old, same old Tucson politics. Yesterday’s paper featured the periodic update on the body count for illegal immigrants found dead in the desert; still low, but sadly, only because the year was young. It seemed to get worse every year. People—men, women, and children—sneaked across the border and set off into the desert, blithely assuming that they would arrive at civilization quickly, or that some good Samaritan would have left water caches at intervals. The good news was most of them did make it somewhere, and melted into the local culture or just kept going to points beyond. The bad news was too many did not, and died of dehydration and exposure.