TAUT (6 page)

She is the one woman I cannot have.

The daydream fades and the baby sounds jerk me back to my reality. I’m with a strange girl and her child in the cheapest motel in Vail—a town I’ve avoided successfully for two-plus years. My vehicle is fucked and even though I could just rent a car and be on my way right now, that hunk of shit means far too much to leave behind.

Chapter Seven

I sit up straight in bed, confused as fuck again. “What is that
smell
?”

I get baby noises as a response.

“And why the fuck is it so cold?” I manage to locate the source of the noise—the baby is cooing in her carrier seat on the floor. Then the cold—the door is propped open with one of my shoes. The girl bursts through a second later, shivering from the frigid alpine air, and shuts the door. When she turns around she jumps and puts her hand on her chest.

“Oh, crap, you scared me! I thought you were asleep.”

I lie back and put my hand over my eyes to block out the light. “I was, until that smell woke me up.”

“Sorry,” she says quietly. Everything she does seems quiet to me. Slow. “She had a stinky diaper. I took it to the dumpster. That librarian lady said we have to be out by ten and it’s almost nine-thirty. So if it’s OK, I’m going to take a shower.”

I don’t even move my hand from my eyes. “Fine with me.”

“Um, I hate to ask, but… do you mind just keeping an eye on the baby for like five minutes? I promise to be—”

“Absolutely not.” I do take my hand away from my eyes for this, because I want to look her in the eyes. “No,” I repeat, shaking my head. “I do not do babies.”

She shoots me a dirty look, scoops up the baby carrier, and walks into the bathroom.

I do not care how angry she is. I do not do babies and I especially do not do babies belonging to strangers. And, I add to boost my reasoning, she should not want a stranger watching her baby, anyway.

The shower starts a minute later and I can hear her talking to the infant. I get up and get dressed in last night’s tuxedo, leaving off the tie. I button up the shirt without tucking it in and lay my suit coat on the bed. I don’t even have a winter coat because the last thing on my mind when I got dressed for the Chaput party last night was trying to drive the Bronco over the motherfucking Rocky Mountains and ending up stranded in Vail after a blizzard.

I stuff the bow tie into my suit coat pocket and find the little rubber duck I picked up in the tow truck. I set it on the dresser and try and flatten my hair down with some water. It’s bad enough I look like a leftover New Year’s Eve drunk in this fucking suit, but I refuse to look like an unkempt one.

By the time I’m putting on my shoes, the girl comes out dressed in yesterday’s clothes. Her hair is wet but she smells fresh. The baby is still wearing her yellow footied sleeper.

“How old?” I ask the girl as I point to the baby.

The girl ignores me and I suppose she’s upset at my lack of showering assistance.

“I found this toy in the tow truck last night. The driver said it was yours.” I point to the duck and the girl’s face contorts into something strange. An expression of relief. She picks it up tenderly and then smiles as she slips it into the diaper bag on the floor.

OK. Whatever. I gather up my keys and my phone and wait for her to get all her baby crap together. She’s got a bag and the carrier and her purse. I didn’t notice she had all this last night, so maybe she went to her car and got it. I hold the door open for her and she mumbles out a thank you.

“They have breakfast in the hotel office—”

“Yes,” she says immediately, and when I stop to look at her, she’s studying the office door with longing. “I’m so hungry. I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.”

“Well, Jason won’t be here for another—”

“Yo! Ford!” I turn and Jason is getting out of a tow truck in the garage parking lot. “Long time, dude!”

“Oh,” the girl moans. “He’s already here.”

“Give me your keys, I’ll take care of your car while you eat.” Her whole face changes, like I just promised her a million dollars. I give her a smile in return for that little vote of confidence and offer up one better. “In fact, just stay in the office. It’s too cold for a baby out here anyway. I’ll come get you when it’s sorted.”

“Oh, thank you,” she says shuffling through her purse for her keys. She hands them over and sighs. Her hand rests on my arm. I pull away instinctively, but she’s too busy telling me how hungry she is and how I’m literally saving her life to notice my minor freakout. And then before I can fully come to terms with the fact that she just touched me, she turns and starts walking to the office.

I look down at my suit coat where I can still feel her hand. Then at her keys. The key chain is a military dog tag and says,
Proud Marine Wife—Ashleigh and Tony Forever
with a little heart stamped on it.

“Hey, what the fuck you doing, dude?” Jason asks from behind me. “You know that girl? Dallas said he picked her up on the freeway, her engine blew going up the mountain or something.”

I turn and take him in. He hasn’t changed since he was fourteen. Same reddish-blond hair, so short it might as well be shaved, same dull gray eyes, and same football build that put him squarely into the jock category at all the childhood functions we were forced into together simply because we were the same age. Not much changes around here. “We shared a room. You only had one left and I had it. She was trying to sleep in her car during the blizzard.”

“That’s a pretty efficient death wish. Well, come on, we gotta dig out your piece of shit before I can check it.”

It’s only then that I notice how much snow fell overnight. At least three feet. The parking lots and roads are mostly cleared though. That’s one thing you can count on in Vail. Plowed streets and lots. Gotta keep the golden roads clear so tourists can ski on the mountain and everyone can make money.

“Where’s your coat, Ford?”

I look down at myself and shake my head. “I didn’t bring one. I had no plans on stopping here, believe me. I was on my fucking way to LA.”

He laughs. “Well, you two dumbasses make the perfect pair then, right?”

“Ha ha, yeah, you’re funny. It’s the transmission, by the way,” I tell him as we walk up to the Bronco. Another kid comes out of the garage with a snow blower and walks up to us.

“My brother Jimmy, remember him?”

I nod to Jimmy, but he’s already starting up the blower. “You need to dig her out too,” I say, pointing to the girl’s old Honda Civic hatchback as I hand him the keys. “Let me know what’s wrong with it and I’ll pay. She’s broke.”

“Yeah, OK.” Jason goes over to Jimmy and talks close to his ear so he can hear over the machine, then hands him the keys. “Come on, we’ll go inside and catch up.”

“Well,” Jason says an hour of
A Christmas Story
and five cups of coffee later. “You’re right. Your tranny’s blown and your coolant system isn’t much better. You need a rebuild and some hoses. Gonna be about a week to get this one done.” He eyeballs me and I know what that means. It’s a week if you want it done at regular rates.

“Well, let me guess, Jason. I can get her back in three days if I just pay you double, right?”

He shrugs. “Us little guys gotta make a living somehow.”

“Please. You are not starving. You own a frontage road garage and the only cheap motel in Vail. And I’ve seen your fucking family compound. So spare me the theatrics. I don’t care how much it costs, just get it done by Monday.”

“Well, that means I gotta start today, though, Ford. And not only is today the Friday after a big fucking blizzard, which means I should be out on the mountain instead of in here working on that piece of shit you’ve been driving since high school, but it’s also a national holiday. So that’s like mandatory triple time, I figure.”

I add up the cost of a transmission rebuild and triple it. “You want six grand to fix the transmission on a truck that probably costs four when she’s running?”

He shoots me a
paybacks are a bitch, aren’t they
look. “You can junk it, leave it with me. I’ll take care of her for ya.”

I take out my card and flick it at him. “What’s the damage on the girl’s car? Add it in.”

He grunts. “She blew her engine, probably trying to force it up the mountain. But I know a guy down in Copper who specializes in these old Hondas, he’s got a used one. Hundred and two thousand miles on it, fourteen hundred plus tax for him, seven hundred for me, and a hundred-dollar delivery fee. Jimmy’s gotta make some money out of it too. That will not be done by Monday, so she’s stuck here for at least a week.”

“Just ring it up.”

Chapter Eight

I make calls while Jason does the paperwork.

Vail. For an entire weekend. It’s like my bad luck is smiling down on me, saying that’s all I’ll ever have, so get used to it.

The shop door opens and a strong burst of wind throws it backwards, slamming it into the building. The frazzled high-school kid grabs at the door frantically and then pulls it closed behind him. He stomps his boots on the rug near the door and calls over to Jason, “Another storm’s coming and all these fucking tourists will be stuck, whining and complaining that they have no fucking this or no fucking that.” It’s only then that he notices me. “Oh, sorry.”

“I’m not a tourist.”

“Right.”

“You have my car?”

“Yeah,” he says with a wince. “I know you ordered a truck or SUV, but sorry, man, this is all we got.” He pans his hand behind him and I strain to see the vehicle through the blowing snow. “My coworker even had to follow me over here in that stupid Ford Focus.”

Jason grunts out a laugh at that, but I ignore him and get up so I can see the vehicle properly.

“A minivan? I said four-wheel drive. I live on fucking Goat Hill.”

“It’s all-wheel drive. Same thing.”

“A lot of good those fucking wheels will do me when it bottoms out in the driveway.”

He shrugs and I drop it. It’s not his fault I’m stuck here. It’s mine. “Fine.” He hands me the keys and I hand him my card, which he runs in a portable device on his phone, and then hands back to me. “You get double bonus points for renting—”

“Yes, thank you,” I say as I take the keys he’s offering. “Jason, we’re on for Monday, then? What time?”

He doesn’t even look up at me, just continues punching something into the computer. “I’ll call you Monday AM and let you know. Do you know where that girl is? I need her to sign the paperwork.”

I grab the pen and sign for her and then push it back across the counter.

Jason gives me a weird look. “OK. Well, tell her I won’t even start working on her new engine until next week sometime, and it’ll take at least a week after that. So, I’m not sure what she’s gonna do—”

“I’ll take care of it.”

I head out, pulling my suit coat around me as a gust of wind barrels across the parking lot, then jog over to the minivan which is, thank God, still warm when I get in.

“Fuck,” I say out loud once I close the door.

I’ve got snow. I’ve got Vail. I’ve got a girl and her baby. I’ve got a past that’s doing its best to catch up with me. I’ve got Rook, who I want to talk to so desperately it actually makes my chest feel funny. And I’ve got a house that’s been winterized for two fucking years, being de-winterized at this very moment, and who the fuck knows if anything works. Hell, maybe all the pipes burst and we have no plumbing.

I rev the engine then put the van in gear and drive forward down the parking lot towards the motel office. I park right in front, leave the van running, and then get out quickly and make for the door. The heat assaults me as soon as I enter and the first thing I hear is Mrs. Pearson trying to gossip over a very fussy and unhappy baby. The girl looks at me, her body swaying slightly to soothe the child and her eyes wide as she subtly motions at the incessant chatter of Mrs. Pearson—like she’s pleading with me to make her shut up. Mrs. Pearson simply continues to talk, directing the conversation to me. I tune her out completely.

“Put the baby in the car,” I tell the girl in a low voice that rumbles under Mrs. Pearson’s high-pitched one. She doesn’t even balk, just nods, puts the baby in the carrier, and heads to the door.

I did not have to tell her twice.

He obedience gives me more pleasure than it should and I’m trying to figure out why when Mrs. Pearson appears next to me cackling about how I should trade my Bronco in for a minivan like my rental. “It’s not my child, Mrs. Pearson. She’s some girl I’m helping out, that’s all.”

But Mrs. Pearson’s not listening. She just goes on and on about the safety rating on a Bronco. “I’m fairly certain a 1986 Bronco has no safety rating,” I tell her absently as I walk around the office lobby picking up the baby crap, shoving it into a diaper bag decorated with pink teddy bears. I make my way to the door as quickly as possible, barking out a loud, “Thank you,” as I go back out into the blizzard. The girl is still struggling with the seat in the back of the van so I stand and wait for her to be finished, the snow beating down on both of us. It seems rude to get in when she’s about to be blown across the parking lot.

She finishes with the baby and turns into me, her hands pushing on my chest and her eyes wide in surprise. I grab her wrists to remove her hands and she yelps. “Sorry,” she says softly, then snags the diaper bag and throws it on the floor. I back away as she whooshes the van door closed and runs to the other side to get in.

Mrs. Pearson is watching us from the door with a concerned look on her face and I get in hurriedly to prevent her from coming out to help. I slam the door and the girl lets out a long groan.

“Oh. My. God. I did not know it was possible for people to talk so—oh, shit! She’s coming! Go, go, go!”

I put the van in drive and give Mrs. Pearson a small wave as we pull away. “Yeah, she’s something, that woman.” I look over at the girl and she’s shaking her head, but also smiling. It’s the first time I’ve seen the smile. It’s nice.