Warming Trend (19 page)

“But you promised me midnight sun tonight,” Lisa said as they set down their luggage in the cabin. “Hey, this place is almost the size of my bungalow at home.”

“My kitchen is bigger, but not by much.” They were both joking—the cabin was very snug with two beds and a table for two wedged next to a stove and tiny sink. “I think it’s going to be about thirty degrees tonight, and you’ll freeze your nose off.”

When Lisa begged she was a real pain in the ass, so Ani gave in. It was time Lisa understood that the On the Rocks wasn’t truly cold and the weather in these parts was meant to be taken seriously. There was no balmy tropical world just outside the door. Lisa was like an annoying little sister sometimes, in spite of being older, but Ani imagined Lisa might feel the same way if Ani had wanted to grab a surfboard and paddle out a half-mile before they had left Key West.

She didn’t have any of the “maybe I’m crazy” and “why did I ask her out?” feelings that she’d had the first time she’d brought Eve to the glacier at midnight. She’d acted purely on impulse, asking her out mostly because she had a nice smile and talked like a real person. By the time they’d been twisting and dancing, Ani had felt like there was wind under her and she wanted to catch Eve in her arms and fly. But that was too fanciful, too much like a late-night movie—or at least she’d tried to tell herself that. It had seemed too good to be true: Eat a deviled egg, find the woman who was perfect for you.

She turned into the parking lot, narrating the location and building layout to Lisa. “You’re going to want your hood up and the zipper tight. It’s a wind tunnel until we get on the other side.”

She was gratified by the heartfelt “Holy shit!” exclaimed from Lisa’s side of the car before she appeared around the front. She was about to say “Told you so,” when Lisa burst out with, “Why didn’t you tell me it was freezing out here?”

“What do you think thirty degrees means?”

“That’s too technical for me!”

“I know for a fact I said variations of the word
freeze
.”

Lisa stalked past her, saying over her shoulder, “Well, you never said ‘Lisa, you’re a moron wanting to go out on a freakin’ block of ice when it’s freakin’ freezing.’ Next time, be clear.”

Ani followed after Lisa and thanked all the fates, every last holy thing she could think of, that she felt not one amorous impulse toward Lisa—surely, she would be slitting her wrists. I pity the fool, she thought, then loped ahead to shepherd Lisa in the right direction.

“The weather haze is going to cut the lights tonight, but you’ll get a sense of how surreal they are. We’ll probably have one gorgeous night while we’re here, but it’s not tonight.”

Lisa’s teeth were already chattering. “I promise, I will wear any gear you tell me to wear. I get it.”

“That’s better,” Ani said. “We’ve got about fifteen minutes before this excursion segues from harebrained to suicidal. Jump up and down and we’ll see if the borealis wants to come up in these conditions.”

She led Lisa along the back path, around the patio—averting her eyes from the drainage culvert that had been the demise of those damned notes—and out to the gate to the glacial access. The wind dropped and Lisa let out an appreciative whistle.

“I can hardly wait to see this in full daylight. Right now it’s like I’m about to walk on the moon or something.” She gingerly left the last step and put her weight on both feet. “Am I standing on it now?”

“Yes. You’re standing on a moving river of ice.”

Breaking into a grin, Lisa mimed riding a surfboard. “Whoa! Big wave!”

Suddenly, light illuminated the patio behind them. A voice cut across Ani’s laughter. “Hey—is that really you?”

Looking over Lisa’s shoulder, Ani had no trouble identifying the woman who stood at the top of the patio stairs. “It’s really me.”

Monica came down a few steps, moving from the bluish safety lighting to the shadows cast by the building and trees. “I’m sorry, I can’t join you—I don’t have my boots on.”

Ani closed the distance and they shared an awkward hug. “I decided if there was music to face, I should get it over with.”

“It’s all old news, Ani. At least around here. Of course you being here will open some old wounds.”

Ani nodded. “I can handle it. As long as no one takes it out on you—or Eve.”

“It took her a while, but Eve got back on her feet.”

Behind them, Lisa said clearly, “Ahem.”

“Sorry. Monica, this is my friend Lisa Garretson. Lisa, this is Dr. Monica Tyndell.”

Their handshake was brief. Lisa said, “I know this is a momentous reunion, but it’s freezing out here. I was instructed to jump up and down or die.”

“True,” Monica said quickly. “Ani, why don’t we get together and talk in the morning? I was just here late prepping for my symposium, but I have breakfast free.”

“I’d like that. Not that I have much to say beyond I’m sorry. I never should have taken matters into my own hands. Corny, but true—honesty is the best policy.”

“Are you sure you want to stir that all up?” Monica’s face was in shadow, but Ani plainly heard the concern in her voice.

“No, actually I don’t. I just wanted to tell you again that I’m sorry I took the notes. And to wish you well in…” Her courage failed her. She just couldn’t say “with my former girlfriend.” She finished lamely with “Wish you well in your future.”

Monica seemed puzzled, which made sense to Ani. Why would Dr. Tyndell need her best wishes? “Thank you for that.”

“Look.” Lisa rubbed her hands together vigorously. “I’m just an outsider. I don’t know how things work here. But it seems to me that Ani’s been hung out to dry for one little mistake and the person who really took the notes got away with it. Maybe they were out to get you, maybe not. But they nailed Ani.”

“Lisa, it was my decision, and I’m taking responsibility for it.”

“I get that.” Lisa looked up at Monica. “I get that once she’d taken the fall there was no reason for anyone else to throw themselves on the mercy of the court. It’s just not right that she lost everything. Nobody—
nobody else
—from here lost a thing. I don’t get how up here in the land of the mavericks this is okay.”

“It’s not okay.” Monica came down one more step and her face was again illuminated. Ani thought she hadn’t aged a day. “It’s politics. It’s what anyone wanted to believe, not what really happened. The part that Ani played is the only thing people had to hook on to. Public opinion is about as easy to change as the course of this glacier.”

Ani, more miserable by the moment, said, “I should have left them there.”

Monica nodded. “It would have been best if you had.” She touched Ani’s shoulder and gave her one of those long, searching looks. “I’ve worried about you. You never wrote me back and then your e-mail address was purged at the end of the year.”

Ani wasn’t sure why she abruptly felt both relieved and confused. But it was very nice to know Monica hadn’t been thinking ill of her all this time. “I went off the grid, so to speak. I’ve been okay.”

Monica gave Lisa an amused look. “I’d say better than okay.”

“Oh, we’re not—”

Lisa snaked her arm around Ani’s. “Honey, I’m freezing.”

Ani gave her a surprised look.

“Ani, take her home. The lights are muddy tonight.” Monica nodded at the sky behind them.

They both turned to look. Lisa observed, “You call that muddy? That’s freaky.”

Monica was right, the northern lights had risen and were putting on a fairly tame show. “We’ll have to come back. It’s like the beach on a cloudy day. It’s still pretty cool, but—”

“If that’s dull,” Lisa said, “then, yeah, I want to come back when it’s truly exciting. It’s like watching a lava lamp the size of the sky and you don’t even have to be stoned.”

Monica laughed. “I never thought of it that way.”

Lisa gave Ani’s arm a meaningful squeeze. “Let’s head for the motel.”

“Tomorrow for breakfast? At Paddy’s?” Monica went back up the stairs.

Looking after her, Ani said, “Sure. Is nine too late?”

“No, that’s great. Thursdays I have office hours. See you then.”

Still arm-in-arm, Lisa was the one who set a quick pace back to the rental. Once they were inside, Ani asked, “Okay, what was that all about?”

“I’m not sure.” Lisa held her hands in front of the air vent. “Heat please.”

“Give it a second or two. I mean with pretending we were together.”

“I know what you meant. I don’t know why it seemed like a good idea. Let me think about it, okay?”

“For how long?” Ani gunned the engine slightly. Truthfully, she was probably as chilled as Lisa was, but she didn’t want to show it.

“Let me sleep on it.”

“Is this where you don’t want to talk about something and I respect your wishes?”

Lisa had a deep crease across her brow. “Don’t be childish.”

“I’ll leave that to you.”

Lisa’s tone rose. “She creeped me out, that’s why. And I don’t think you’ll ever see it because she has your number.”

Ani knew a case of femme jealousy when she saw it. Monica and Lisa were in the same general league when it came to looks, and Lisa, frankly, wasn’t used to being upstaged. “I have no idea what you mean.”

She had left the parking lot for the main road before Lisa said anything more. A weak trickle of warmth from the vents did wonders for her nose.

“Didn’t you notice that she never once reassured you? Never said she forgave you? Didn’t really encourage you to get right with anyone? Subtly suggested you leave it all alone? Who’s better off if you do that? Not you—she is, though. So far, everything you’ve done benefited her. And I don’t think she wants that to change.”

“What are you talking about?” Ani had to consciously keep her tension from translating to a lead foot on the gas. Lisa was making no sense at all.

“You know who she reminded me of?” Lisa was genuinely agitated. “The Bitch Ex. Only a whole lot more subtle about the Me First policy. The kind of person who manages to make you think whatever it is was really all your idea. It was my idea to put only Tina’s name on the title of the car because it proved we trusted each other, when all it did was force me to trust her. If I didn’t agree it meant I didn’t love her enough. I fell for it, and she used it against me.”

“There is no comparison between your ex and Monica Tyndell.” She gunned the car out onto the highway. This was easily the most angry Lisa had gotten her, and she was getting tired of it.

“Listen to the way you talk about her. Sometimes she’s
Monica
. Sometimes she’s
Dr.
Tyndell. Other times she’s the whole
Monica Tyndell
. The friend, the authority, the celebrity. And she plays whichever of those cards works. I watched her play all three in five minutes. She’s a master at it.”

“Some people call that charisma.” She cut off Lisa’s heated response. “I don’t get where you’re going with this.”

“When those notes showed up in her office you were the only way out for her. You said it yourself—you got the feeling she wanted you to get rid of them. Then, after you did that, turns out that’s not what she wanted. That left you holding the whole bag.”

“She wouldn’t do that. And you weren’t there.”

“True.”

The silence lasted all the way to the motel, through changing into sleepwear and brushing teeth.

Finally, Lisa said, “I’m sorry if I was harsh. I’m willing to admit that some of my leftover shit was part of why I saw things the way I did. You’re right, I wasn’t there and I don’t know her at all, and you not that much.”

“It’s okay,” Ani said automatically. It wasn’t and they both knew it.

Ani was pretty sure Lisa was taking just as long to fall asleep. She was back to the karma theory—Lisa was along on this trip as repayment for her sins. She could be such a flake, and yet sometimes she did see right through to the heart of things. One hand on her stomach, Ani quelled the queasiness with steady, deep breathing. Lisa had gotten her all mixed up. Things had happened so fast, and she’d misunderstood what Monica had wanted, and she had already been going to take the blame.

None of that mattered anymore, she told herself. It was best left alone. She was just here to get her stuff and go, not fix anything.

But that’s what she wants, the voice of Lisa whispered insidiously.

It’s because she thinks that’s for the best, Ani answered firmly. She closed her eyes and tried to will herself to sleep.

The echo of Lisa’s voice kept her awake for a long time as it asked, over and over, “Best for you? Or best for her?”

Paddy’s was an establishment so old that it was currently operated by Paddy, son of Paddy, son of the original Paddy. Specializing in pecan waffles, eggs and steaks ranging from venison to moose, it was a Fairbanks institution. Ani stood in the doorway, hopeful Monica was already there. Maybe it was a good thing it had been three years—most of the undergrads at the main university campus had moved on to other schools, and the grad students who hadn’t hired on in the faculty or tech tracks had also left.

There was no sign of Monica, so Ani got them a booth and went ahead and ordered a waffle with eggs on the side. After an extended diet of seafood and lighter fare, she was put off by the idea of a venison steak, and at this hour of the morning. Truth be told, she was missing mango and pineapple. Lisa was right, too—exercise was called for. This afternoon, she thought. She didn’t have to do more than see Monica today if she didn’t want to.

She could hear Lisa clucking “chicken” in her ear.

“Sorry I’m late.” Monica slid into the booth opposite Ani. She was wearing what Ani recognized as her “working academic” attire—trousers, heeled boots, a crisp white blouse under a colorful jacket. She quickly ordered toast and scrambled eggs. “I worked far too late last night. The first event is a cocktail party tomorrow night, but the planning committee meets at three. You know how all of that goes. A weekend symposium always starts at noon Friday for the host.”

Aware that she’d never had a formal meal in a restaurant with her former mentor, Ani hoped she didn’t seem flustered. It was a different dynamic, sitting around a cook fire in the middle of a harsh, forbidding wilderness, everyone in the same cold-weather attire. She was suddenly aware that her jeans and T-shirt made her look and feel like she was still a student. “Thank you for seeing me. I realize this is all old news, and maybe I’m the only one who cares anymore.”