The Lives Between Us (20 page)

Skye preceded Edward up the four steps that remarkably didn't quake as much as she’d expected, into the plane’s cabin. The plush gray carpeting and pale blue leather chairs totally transcended the aesthetics of any other jet she’d been aboard. The plane still had a new smell, as if the carpeting had been recently replaced. The burl wood galley gleamed. Through an open door, Skye spotted beautiful sparkling crystal. No plastic cups for these passengers.

“Wow. We’re definitely paying you too much if this is the way you travel, Senator.”

He chuckled. “Edward. The good citizens of Michigan haven’t paid for this. We bought into a group—a kind of a timeshare for jets, if you will.”

Skye glanced at the plush leather chairs, flat screen monitors, and sheepskin crew seats. The interior whispered elegant luxury. “Still. Wow.”

Edward eased her forward to the spot where a pretty brunette stood next to the boy adjusting the controls for the flat screen monitor at his side. “Noelle, this is Mark’s friend, Skylar Kendall.”

Noelle straightened and turned in one graceful move, her straight hair fanning gently about her shoulder. In form-fitting jeans and a sunny yellow sweater, she looked every inch the elegant, privileged wife, but her open face held no hint of reserve or snobbery. White, perfect teeth gleamed as Noelle smiled brightly and shook Skye’s hand. Pretty lady. Not stunningly beautiful, but a perfect complement to her husband’s movie star looks.

“It’s nice to meet you. So you’re the paragon Mark’s been going on about.” She leaned closer. “We’re going to have to chat sometime.”

Skye had never met a politician up close and therefore scrutinized Noelle closely for insincerity, but couldn't detect any artifice in the friendly brunette. “That’d be great.”

“And this is our son, Jeffery.” Noelle patted her son’s shoulder affectionately.

He stood politely and nodded. “We’ve met. She came with Uncle Mark to my hockey game.”

Jeff. Of course. Mark’s godson was a Hastings. How had that not come up even in casual conversation with the three of them on the ride home from the hockey game? Well, his dad being a senator was nothing special to the kid, so, she guessed it made sense.

“Good to see you again, Jeff. Your son is quite talented on the ice,” Skye said.

Noelle gave him a warm smile and put a hand to his back. “He loves it.”

“Honey, do you have a pen?” Edward asked. “I want to remember to call Skye when I come back for the fundraiser. I think I can give you some time afterwards—if you’re free on the thirtieth?”

Skye looked at Edward. “Of...”

“December.”

December, not March. She nodded. “I’ll make sure I’m free.”

Edward took the ballpoint pen and pad Noelle offered and scribbled on the notepad. The radio crackled, gaining Edward’s attention. “Sorry to cut this short, but we’re really running late, and the tower’s getting annoyed.”

Jeff wandered to the doorway where he stood smirking. “Dad, Uncle Mark’s looking pretty white. Wanna bet he hurls?”

Skye ducked and looked out the window to where Mark stood with one foot on the bottom step. Frowning and staring at the steps as if they were evil, his lips moved in a tirade she couldn’t hear. The kid was right; he did look miserable. Poor guy.

“Do I look like a sucker? No way I’m taking that bet. Did you get the crackers?” Edward asked Noelle. She pointed to a big box of Triscuits lying on the seat across from hers. Edward snatched the box and leaned out the door. He showed Mark the crackers. “Have a few before we get going.”

Skye couldn’t hear Mark’s response, but he didn’t climb the ladder. “What’s he waiting for?”

“The last second,” Edward said as he tossed the box into the nearest seat.

“Well, I’ll let you guys go.” Skye looked at Noelle and Jeff. “Have a great Christmas.”

“And you. We’ll get together when we get back. I’d love to hear all about how you and Mark met,” Noelle said.

Skye turned to Edward, working to infuse warmth into her voice. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Looking forward to our interview. I’ll call,” he promised.

“Great.” Skye walked down the steps, wondering how to say goodbye to Mark with an audience. He backed several paces away from the stairs to give her room, far more room than she needed. She was glad her back faced the plane, knowing they were being watched. Mark stared past her at the jet.

“They’re waiting for you.”

He nodded.

“You’d better go.”

Mark took a deep breath and folded her in his arms. He rested his chin on her head, making her feel small. His gin breath brushed the top of her head. They stood that way, tightly locked together for almost a minute, long enough for Skye to begin feeling a little awkward. Skye knew it was his fear of flying, not reluctance to leave her, that kept her clutched tightly in his arms, and her heart went out to him.

“I can see why you’d be nervous, but I’m sure Edward’s a great pilot,” she said.

“He is.”

The engines revved.

Skye stood on tiptoe to speak in his ear. “You’ll be fine.”

Mark gripped her arm and bent to her ear. “Come with us. Come with me.”

“What?” She arched away to look at his face. That must be the alcohol talking.

“Come to Colorado with me. You ski. It’ll be fun. I know you don’t have any luggage, but you can buy what you need there—or I’ll buy it for you.”

Go on vacation with them? They were strangers. It was one thing to make polite conversation with Hastings and another thing altogether to have to keep up her guard for days on end. Was he crazy? “Mark, it’s nearly Christmas. My family—”

“I’ll have you home for Christmas. Or come out after—I don’t care. Just come.” He slid a hand down her arm and caught her hand. “Please. I want to be with you.”

“I... I want to be with you, too.” The thought of skiing, hot tubbing, romantic candlelit dinners with Mark certainly tempted her. Compared to the stress of enduring this first holiday without Niki, hopping on a plane and running away wasn’t a bad idea. But she had Faith, and the twins, and the bar—not to mention her job at the paper. Her life was complicated.

“Let me see if I can clear my schedule. Maybe I can manage a few days.”

His face brightened. “I’ll take it. Whatever you can arrange.”

“I’m not promising, but I’ll try.”

“Call you tonight.”

Skye smiled, suddenly feeling more lighthearted and younger than she’d felt in a long time. She hadn’t done anything this impetuous in a while. “Okay. You’d better get going. They’re waiting.”

Mark lowered his head for a tender kiss, not at all like his earlier onslaught. “See you tomorrow.”

“Not tomorrow, but I’ll do my best.”

They stepped apart. Mark squared his shoulders and headed for the plane. Skye watched him climb aboard as the wind whipped hair into her face like tiny punishing lashes. She backed away. Waving, Skye bit her lip and turned toward the car. If she hurried, she might have time to ask for a few days off, before her shift started.

* * *

Edward followed Noelle, Mark, and Jeff, as they slid off the Coney Glade chairlift and skied the short distance to the Big Burn lift. A little behind the others in line, Edward bent and scooped up some snow. He lightly packed a snowball and lobbed it over Noelle and Mark to smack Jeff on the shoulder.

Jeff started and whirled about.

Edward glided up beside Noelle and looked around as if nothing had happened. He stretched his shoulder muscles and drew in a deep breath of crisp mountain air. It felt great to be outside, spending time with his family. On the campaign trail constantly, he missed so much. He needed these opportunities to catch up and reconnect.

Edward lifted his face to the sun, loving the way it warmed his cheeks. He let out a deep sigh of contentment. “What a gorgeous day.”

Yesterday had been cold and cloudy, but today the sun shone brightly, glistening off the fresh snow that looked like a huge, smooth bowl of sugar. Edward slapped a hand over Noelle’s thigh and squeezed it. “Ready?”

She stared at him, sending a silent intimate message before smiling playfully. “Think you can keep up?”

Full of energy and passion, Noelle always challenged him in everything they did. She was his equal in every way, and Edward loved it. He grinned. “I’ll do my best.”

At the top of the lift, they stood and slid down the ramp. Moving to the left, they adjusted their equipment and slipped their hands around the pole grips. Edward stood with Mark, watching Noelle lead the way. Even from a great distance he could pick his wife out on a slope. He’d know her anywhere by the relaxed posture, parallel legs, and graceful swing of her turns. She had style.

“Jeff’s gotten pretty good. Decent control,” Mark said.

Edward’s gaze reluctantly left his wife and moved to the lanky figure trailing her. “Nice form, too. Gets that from his mother.” He pushed off. “Let’s go.”

At the bottom, Jeff turned to him. “Hey, Dad, let’s head over to Slot.”

“Think you’re ready for that?”

“More ready than you.”

Twenty minutes and two chairlifts later, they stood at the top of the steep black diamond run.

“Beat ya to the bottom,” Jeff yelled as he shoved off. He dashed down the mountain, making few turns.

“Stay out of the moguls,” Noelle called out.

Mark winced at the kid’s unusual recklessness. “Good thing you make him wear a helmet.”

“He knows better than that,” Noelle bit out, then gasped as Jeff headed right into the low mogul field. Jeff bobbled and almost went down, but with a quick lifting of his free leg, he caught himself. “Jesus, Edward. Stop him before he kills himself.”

The three adults took off after the teen. Mark led the way, making few calculated turns. Though all three were strong skiers, Mark was by far the most experienced and daring. Edward admired the way Mark shot into the mogul field. He worked the bumps, his legs pumping like well-oiled pistons.

Mark had kept in better shape than Edward, who already felt the strain on his knees. Within a minute, Mark, with his superior fifty pounds and years of experience, bounced well past Jeff. He stopped in between two wide moguls, blocking Jeff’s best route.

“Get outta here,” Mark shouted. Using a pole, he pointed to the smooth, steep slope to Jeff’s left. “And slow down.”

Jeff made a few short turns, zipped around him and blasted out of the mogul field.

Edward pulled alongside Mark, as the kid flew down the steep slope, with Noelle several yards behind. “Why the hell isn’t he stopping?”

“Showing off or can’t.” Mark pushed off in pursuit.

Jeff made a few brief turns, but not enough to slow him down. Noelle pulled up beside Jeff, shouting, “Stop!”

The boy glanced her way. He slowed a little, then lost his balance and let his skis turn downhill to keep from falling.

Angry now, Edward skied beside Jeff. He considered pushing Jeff down to stop him, when Noelle passed him. Making short swing turns only yards in front of Jeff, she forced him to turn or risk hitting her, hurling them both down the mountain like bowling pins.

Jeff leaned low and turned sideways, attempting to come to a careening stop to avoid colliding with his mother, but he didn’t have the leg strength. He executed an ungainly turn. He wedged his legs wide in an effort at a snowplow, but quickly brought them back together in the easier parallel position.

Edward turned as close to Jeff as he dared. Lunging forward, he grabbed the back of Jeff’s jacket, dug his edges in, and leaned back hard. He yanked his son down, but catapulted over the back of Jeff’s skis. As they fell, Edward shoved Jeff backward to make sure he didn’t land on top and crush him. He slammed into the ground, rolled over, and slid twenty feet before coming to a teeth-crunching stop.

Damn, that hurt.
Looking uphill, he ducked and covered his head as Jeff slid by on his back, stopping a few yards away. Edward rolled to his feet and kicked off his remaining ski. He stalked over to where his son struggled to right himself.

“What the hell was that? Are you trying to kill yourself?” Edward yelled. His chest heaved as he struggled to drag the thin mountain air into his lungs.

Jeff brushed the snow off his hat and adjusted his clothes. He glared at his father. “
Me
? You guys cut me off.”

“You were out of control.”

“Was not.”

“Then why didn’t you stop when I told you to?” Noelle asked, side-stepping up the slope.

“If you want to ski, you have to ski responsibly,” Edward said. His voice had calmed, but his scowl should have burned his message through the boy’s thick skull.

Jeff levered his poles under him and stood. “I was fine.”

“You were out of control. If the ski patrol had seen that, they would have yanked your ticket.”

“What-ever,” he mumbled.

“What?” Edward drew himself up to his full height. Did his kid just “whatever” him? Jeff might have gone through a recent growth spurt, and he might be taller than his mother and feeling like a man, but it’d be a while before he was ready to take on his old man. Maybe this was the time to let him know it.

Edward took a step closer so that their jackets brushed. He narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice. “What. Did you say?”

The boy scowled, then looked at the ground. “I said, I’ll be more careful. Sir.”

The sarcastic ‘sir’ was meant to piss him off, but he’d dealt with true assholes. His son’s temper tantrum had a ways to go to provoke him.

“You need to slow down and carve more turns,” Edward said.

“If Jeff has that much energy, he’s ready for bumps. Mark can teach him—he’s the best on moguls,” Noelle said.

Edward clenched his jaw. Cold melted snow trickled down his back. Scowling, he looked into his wife’s hopeful face. She asked so little of him and always gave so much. His aggravation began to dissolve. “Fine.”

Mark dropped Edward’s skis and poles and moved upslope to stand near Jeff.

Edward turned away and bent to right his skis, muttering, “Like I suck on moguls?”

He felt an arm at his back. “No, but Mark’s better.”

“I could teach him.” He was good enough, but the stubborn kid probably wouldn’t pay attention to his old man.