Winter Chill (5 page)

 

 

The boys filed out the door, full of enthusiasm and spirit. Drew pulled Marian to the side, out of the cold draft from the open front door, and draped a friendly arm around her shoulders.

“Talk him into it, Marian.” He stood close to her, and she could see the fine lines of concern on his face. “He told the boys he’d give them an answer by the end of the week, but it doesn’t look good. The kids think he’s coming back, but I’m not so sure. Dan’s changed. Oh, he smiled and kidded with them, but he’s not the same Dan.”

As Marian nodded, Drew pulled his stocking cap over his sandy hair and sighed deeply. “Frankly, I’m worried. If we don’t get Dan out of the house soon, he’s going to hole up in here like a hermit.”

“I’ll do my best, Drew,” Marian promised. Drew did look worried. His usual carefree expression was gone, and the tips of his small mustache seemed to droop. Everyone was worried about Dan. She wondered if Drew was worried about her, as well.

He seemed to sense her unspoken question. Drew slipped his arm around her shoulders again and hugged her close. “It’ll work out somehow, Marian. Don’t despair.”

Tears came to Marian’s eyes, and she blinked them away. “I . . . I don’t know what to do.” She faltered. “There’s got to be some way of convincing Dan to go back to work.”

“Is there anyone else Dan would listen to?” Drew frowned slightly. “How about someone he’s close to? A real friend?”

“Ronnie Powell’s a friend,” Marian began hesitantly. “Do you think I should ask Ronnie for help?”

“Sure.” Drew flashed his easy grin. Marian could tell he felt better with a plan of action. “Call Sally, and get the Powells in on it. Ronnie can talk some sense into him. Dr. Hinkley might be able to help, too. I’d talk to him if I were you.”

Drew turned on the top step and looked back at her. “If you need anything, Marian, just give me a call. I’ll be here over the Christmas break.”

Marian almost asked, but he was already halfway down the snowbanked sidewalk. Just today the teachers’ lounge had been full of gossip about Drew’s Christmas vacation. Everyone thought he was going to Aspen with his stewardess girlfriend. One of Drew’s legendary romances must have suffered a setback.

She stood staring after him until he turned the corner. She didn’t want to go back in the house and face Dan just yet. She felt unprepared and defenseless. She needed a little time to herself before she talked to him.

Marian shut the heavy front door and leaned against it wearily. A burden far too heavy to bear had settled on her shoulders. She had to be strong for Dan now. She had to make him see that hiding here in the house would do nothing but hurt him more in the end. Dan had always been the decision maker, and now she was faced with an unfamiliar role. She had to decide what was best for him and do it.

Quietly, almost stealthily, Marian climbed the stairs to the phone in the upstairs hallway. She called Sally, and Ronnie promised to come in to talk to Dan on Friday. That was his day off. Then she dialed Dr. Hinkley’s number.

“You’re absolutely right, Marian.” Approval was clear in the doctor’s voice when she finished her explanation. “I’ll get in on it too. When I see Dan on Wednesday, I’ll tell him to go right back to work. He’s brooding, Marian, and the best cure for brooding is work.”

“And how are you getting along, dear?” Dr. Hinkley’s voice was kind. “You went back to work today, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Marian smiled wryly. “It’s good to be back, and I’m fine. Or I would be if I weren’t so worried about Dan.”

“Just leave Dan to us,” the doctor reassured her. “We’ll shake him out of that house. Do you have enough pills, Marian? You have to be careful to get your rest. I’m concerned about you, too.”

Dr. Hinkley sounded so kind that for one shaky moment, Marian almost blurted out the truth. She wanted to tell the doctor that things were not as well as they seemed, that she was suffering, too. This morning she had awakened to find herself clutching the pillow as if it were a life raft, and the only way she could make it through the lonely hours was to rely on her secret hope, her crazy fantasy that Laura was not really gone, that any day now Laura would write her a note from the other side.

“Yes, I’m just fine, Dr. Hinkley.” The moment for confidences passed. “Now, I’d better get back to Dan. And I’ll tell him to expect you on Wednesday.”

Marian sat down on the top step and cupped her chin in her hands. She had seen Laura sitting this way many times, staring off into space, lost in her own secret world. Marian wondered what her daughter had thought about in those quiet, reflective moments. Did Laura have dreams? Did her mind take secret flights to faraway places? Was Laura in such a place now? Watching her and listening to her concern about Dan?

A worried expression settled over Marian’s face. She had to believe that Laura was out there somewhere, not really dead but waiting. It was the only way she could go on. Dan believed. And she had to believe, too. But it would be so much easier if she had another note.

Her legs were stiff when she got up at last. Marian gripped the banister and steadied herself. Her eyes were drawn to the end of the hall, to Laura’s door.

She knew she shouldn’t, but the room drew her like a magnet. Marian hesitated for a moment in the upstairs hallway, then pushed open the door to Laura’s room. Faint light spilled in from the hallway, and she didn’t have the heart to switch on the lamp in the room. She knew what she would find. There would be a fine cover of dust on all Laura’s toys and books. The room would be empty, neglected. In her weaker moments, Marian thought that perhaps her friends were right; she should pack away Laura’s things and put the room to other use. Sally had suggested a sewing room or a guest bedroom, but Marian couldn’t bear that. It was so cold . . . so final.

Marian swallowed hard as she gazed around her daughter’s room. The brightly patterned clown wallpaper mocked her with its cheerful motif, and Laura’s sweater was draped over the edge of the bed, where she’d tossed it before the snowmobiling trip. Her flannel nightgown was folded untidily on the top of the dresser, and her shoes peeked out from beneath the chest of drawers. Everything was exactly as it had been, untouched and empty without Laura’s bright presence. Tears began to form in Marian’s eyes, and she squeezed them shut tightly. She had never felt so bereft and alone.

She sat down in the rocker, the same rocker in which she had cuddled Laura when she was a baby. She remembered the little, downy head pressed against her breast, the sweet, tiny fingers that clasped hers, the first time Laura smiled up at her. The birthdays, Laura’s first Christmas, the memories came in a flood. And now Christmas was coming again. Marian couldn’t bear to think about Christmas without Laura.

Her tears were an endless well. Marian pressed her hand to her mouth to muffle her sobs. The rocker moved as she cried, squeaking against the old floor. The familiar motion of comfort had turned into unbearable pain.

 

 

There was a noise upstairs. Dan turned down the volume on the television and listened. Marian was in Laura’s room. He could hear the old rocker creaking and the sound of her muffled sobs. Dan wanted to run up the stairs and take her in his arms, smooth back her hair and dry her bitter tears. He had to do something to comfort her. He couldn’t bear to hear her crying like this.

What could he do? He was stuck down here, a prisoner in his bed. There had to be something!

Another note from Laura would comfort her. Dan picked up the book by the bed, but there were no more pieces of folded paper stuck inside. He wished he could write one and say it was from Laura. Would it be wrong? It was a deliberate deception, but it was a small price to pay to ease Marian’s grief.

The pen was in his hand before he had made up his mind to do it. Then he was writing, forming large block letters on the notepad he found in the drawer.

 

 

There was a cookbook by Marian’s side of the bed. Dan opened it and stuck the note inside. Then he called out for Marian as loud as he could.

Her eyes were red and puffy as she came into the room. Dan felt an almost physical pain as he came face-to-face with her grief. It didn’t matter whether he’d done the right thing or not. He’d do anything to see her smile again.

“It’s another note, Marian! I found it in your cookbook.”

Her hands were trembling as she reached for the note. There was a long silence, and then she sighed. It was a sigh of peace, a sigh of contentment. Then a radiant smile transformed her weary face.

“It’s true, Dan.” Her voice was shaking with happiness. “Laura’s here, watching us. I never really believed until now. Oh, Dan! She’s not dead! This note proves it!”

What was she talking about? This note was like the last one. It was supposed to be an old note he’d found in her cookbook.

“Don’t you see, darling?” Her eyes were shining as she smiled at him. “That cookbook is new! I got it in the mail last Friday. And look at the printing. This isn’t an old note. The letters are perfect. Laura’s written me a note from the other side!”

For a moment he was stunned. What had he done! Now Marian thought Laura was writing her notes from the grave!

He had to say something, do something, to clear up her misunderstanding. Dan was mute as he gazed into his wife’s ecstatic face. There was no way he could admit he had written the note. That would force her back into a terrible depression. She’d never trust him again if he told her the truth.

“Dan? What’s wrong, honey? Don’t you believe that Laura wrote me this note?”

“Of course I believe it.” Dan made his lips smile. “It’s just a shock. That’s all.”

Now her arms were around him, her lips on his. “I love you so much!” she whispered. “Everything’s going to be all right, Dan. I’m sure of it now.”

A moment later she was up, smiling and happy. “I haven’t done a thing for the holidays. We really ought to set up a Christmas tree in here. Laura would be upset if we didn’t. How about that corner, Dan? Do you think a tree would look nice there?”

“Sure.” Dan nodded. “Whatever makes you happy, Marian.”

She was already in the doorway, face radiant, eyes sparkling. “I’ll run out and buy a tree right now. The Red Owl’s still open. A small Scotch pine would be just perfect. It’s Laura’s favorite!”

After Marian left, the worry began to grow in Dan’s mind. Had he unwittingly fostered an unhealthy fantasy? Then he remembered her happy smile as she ran out to buy the tree. With the hope he’d planted in her mind, Marian was full of cheer and energy. Maybe now she’d be all right. He didn’t know what he’d do if Marian expected more notes from Laura!

CHAPTER 6

Marian awoke with a smile on her lips. It was a quarter after six, and she was wide awake. In this hour, just before dawn, the room was filled with a half-light. Solid objects were dark shadows against the dimness.

She slid out of bed and stretched, her body tingling with energy. Then she picked up her robe and slippers and tiptoed out of the room. She’d let Dan sleep until the coffee was ready. This was a perfect time to have the house to herself, to think about Laura, to rejoice in her happiness.

Laura wanted her to be happy. She’d said so in her note. Marian patted the pocket of her robe, and the paper crinkled reassuringly. She would carry the note with her today so she could look at it whenever she felt lonely.

By the time she had finished dressing, the coffee was ready. Marian poured a cup and sat at the table, savoring its steamy flavor. The kitchen was light now. It was almost seven. The sun was hiding behind storm clouds, and more snow was predicted. It could turn into a blizzard, but the weather had no effect on her happiness. The day was beautiful. Laura was here.

 

 

“I hate these gray days!” Sally set her tray down next to Marian’s at the long Formica table. “Are your kids restless today?”

“No.” Marian smiled happily. “We finished our Christmas candles this morning. They turned out even better than I expected. And after lunch we’re going to start a new unit in reading.”

“What’s your secret? I haven’t been able to accomplish a thing. Are you taking a new kind of pep pill?”

Sally was joking, and Marian laughed. In a way, Sally was right. She
did
have a secret, but she couldn’t tell Sally. Marian knew why things were going so smoothly today. Her good spirits and enthusiasm were all due to Laura’s note. Everything was easy now that Laura was here.

“How’s Jimmy Dahl doing this year?” Sally tried the stew and made a disgusted face. “Roger just got back this morning. He was out for two weeks with the measles. Do you think Jimmy could help him with his makeup work?”

“I think he could handle it.” Marian waved at Harvey across the room. “I have to talk to Harvey for a minute, Sally. My grade book’s right there on the table. Why don’t you check for yourself?”

Sally paged through Marian’s grade book. Jimmy was above average in every subject. He’d make a fine tutor for his little brother.

Marian was deep in conversation with Harvey. Sally flipped to the attendance page and found Jimmy’s name. He hadn’t missed a single day this year. The measles must have passed him by.

Her eyes skipped down the page. Laura Larsen. There was a check mark for “present” in today’s column.
Present?
Sally frowned. That was certainly strange. She could understand Marian’s reluctance to take Laura’s name off the roll, but to mark her present? Marian must have made a mistake.

 

 

The Red Owl was crowded, and Marian didn’t bother to get a cart. All she needed was milk and some cereal. She avoided the crowd of shoppers at the produce section and cut around the back of the magazine rack to the cereal aisle. She grabbed a box off the shelf and hurried to the dairy case to pick up the milk. A moment later she was in the ten items or less line.

There were five people ahead of her, and the milk was cold against her arm. Marian shifted it to her other hand and juggled the box of cereal. Suddenly the picture on the box registered in her mind. Froot Loops. Laura’s favorite cereal, the only kind she would eat. Marian and Dan hated it.

The box of cereal slipped from her nerveless fingers. What was she doing? Laura was gone. There was no reason to buy Froot Loops now.

Tears came to her eyes, and Marian blinked them back. It was no use. She was going to cry right here in the store. She set the milk down in a stray shopping cart and ran out the door. She didn’t stop running until she was safely in the van.

It was a long time before she raised her head from the steering wheel. Then she glanced around her fearfully, hoping no one had noticed her dash from the store. The parking lot was full. People were doing their last-minute shopping after work. No one was staring at her. Everyone was in a hurry to get home.

Tears were still running down her cheeks. Marian reached into her purse and took out the note from her baby. It was too dark to read it, but she knew the message. Laura loved her. Laura was watching her. Laura would think she was silly to cry over a box of Froot Loops.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Marian whispered. “Mommies are silly sometimes. I just forgot for a minute, that’s all.”

The street was full of traffic as she pulled out of the parking lot. Marian waited for a break in the traffic and drove toward home. It had been a long day, and she was tired.

 

 

It was late. It seemed he’d been sleeping for hours when the noise awakened him. Marian was standing by the bookcase in her robe and slippers. She took an armload of books off the shelf and carried them into the living room. Something about the quiet way she moved disturbed him. He heard pages rustle. There was a series of thumps as she stacked the books on the table. Was this some sort of strange dream, or was Marian really dusting the bookshelves at this hour?

Now she was back again, moving stealthily. She replaced the books she had taken and left with another armful. What was going on?

He was about to call out to her when he realized what she was doing. Marian was looking for another note from Laura!

What could he say? Dan tried to think of something, but he was just too sleepy. He heard her replace the rest of the books, and the light in the living room clicked off. When she slid into bed beside him, he reached out to cuddle her close. He was still trying to think of the right thing to say when he dropped off to sleep.

 

 

In the morning she was cheerful, smiling as she brought in his breakfast. It was Wednesday. Dr. Hinkley was coming today. Marian was full of last-minute instructions, and there wasn’t time to say anything then. She had to hurry off to work. And now he was waiting for her to come home, hoping to see a smile on her face.

Dan pushed the backrest to a more comfortable position and poured himself a cup of coffee from the thermos Marian had left this morning. Dr. Hinkley was concerned. He said Marian was worried about him in the house alone. He’d spent the entire time of the examination urging Dan to go back to work. Everyone seemed to be nagging him about work. Harvey and Drew wanted him back for the team’s sake. Dr. Hinkley wanted him back for Marian’s sake. And Dan admitted he should go back for his own sake. He was growing bitter and despondent cooped up in the house. All those arguments made perfect sense, but he couldn’t seem to force himself to go back.

Dan tried to be objective. He honestly didn’t think a man in a wheelchair could coach hockey. They all wanted him back out of pity, and that was a damn poor reason. “Isn’t he brave?” they’d all say. “Poor man, he looks so pathetic. Did you know he used to play hockey in college? Now he can’t do a thing, but he’s still got his job. One thing about Nisswa. We take care of our own.”

It was enough to make him sick! Dan knew his attitude wasn’t healthy, but he couldn’t seem to rise above it. If it weren’t for Marian, he’d give up for good.

 

 

It was late. Mrs. Owens had stayed well over the half hour allotted for parent-teacher conferences, and then Harvey had wanted to talk. Marian hung her coat in the closet and pulled off her boots. She had to check on Dan. Perhaps he was in better spirits today.

She’d been so full of hope yesterday, after Dr. Hinkley’s visit. But Dan refused even to talk about going back to work. He said he was thinking about it. And this morning he had been quiet and uncommunicative. She had been worried about him all day.

He was asleep. Marian stood in the doorway and blinked back tears as the wave of despair she had been battling all day hit her with the force of a physical blow. Dan was unmoving, uncaring in his slumber. The small Christmas tree she’d set up at the foot of his bed was dark. She should have thought to put it on a timer. It was almost more than she could bear, seeing her husband here in the dark, with no cheerful lights to lift his spirits. She tiptoed to the foot of his bed and switched on the tree, hoping that he would wake with a smile and they could talk. But Dan’s eyelids didn’t even flicker as the tiny, colored bulbs cast a rosy glow over the room. Suddenly she had to get out, get away from the wasted man who was once her strength.

The day’s mail was still in the box. Marian ran out the front door and dashed down the icy sidewalk to the mailbox. The hinge seemed to be stuck, and she pulled with all her strength to open it. There was a tiny plastic bottle of shampoo inside, a new-product sample. It had burst as it froze. Now there was shampoo ice all over the inside of the mailbox. When would out-of-state companies learn about Minnesota winters?

She wiped off the mail as well as she could and carried it back to the house. There was a power bill, a campaign letter from their congressman, and a preprinted postcard.

It was the final straw. Marian stared at the writing on the postcard, and tears came to her eyes. It was from Laura’s dentist in Brainerd, a reminder of her six-month appointment. She tried to stop crying, but it was no use. Laura was gone. She was foolish to pretend any longer.

Marian climbed the stairs and opened the door to Laura’s room. She felt as if her head would split. She was on a roller coaster of emotion, and she had to get off.

There were brief periods when she was happy, secure in her knowledge that Laura was with her. She would smile and laugh then. Her energy was high. Then her mood would change abruptly, and doubts would return. Was it foolish to believe that Laura was still here? There were no more notes. Had something happened to take her baby away forever?

She stood in the doorway and closed her eyes, trying to bring back the comforting feeling that Laura was with her. The room seemed empty now, deserted. Marian picked up a dust cloth and wiped the top of the bookshelf. Then she rearranged Laura’s toys, as if the act of cleaning her baby’s room would bring her back.

This time nothing helped. She couldn’t shake her terrible loneliness.

“Where are you, Laura?” Her forlorn whisper hung in the silent room long after the words were spoken. There was no answer. Marian switched off the light and shut the door behind her, plunging the room into darkness again. Laura’s room. Laura’s toys. Laura’s clothes. Life was all so empty without Laura.

Somehow she made it through supper, putting on a cheerful act for Dan. Then she sat at the kitchen table, correcting papers until the childish printing swam before her eyes.

“I’m going for a walk, honey.” Marian raised her voice so Dan could hear it over the sound of the television. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Wear my parka, Marian. It’s warmer than your coat. I just heard the news. It’s five below tonight.”

It was clear and cold, a perfect December evening. Marian’s boots squeaked as she walked past the lighted houses. The Murphys were still up. They were probably waiting for Barbara to get home. She worked at the Tom Thumb until ten on weeknights.

Marian’s breath sent up icy clouds of moisture that condensed in the air like smoke. Dan’s parka kept her toasty warm inside. It was made for subzero temperatures. She’d walk around the block once. Then she had to get back home.

Irma Mielke hadn’t shoveled today, and her house was dark. Marian wondered whether she was visiting her son in Florida. Irma usually spent the month of December there. She always came back with a suntan that was the envy of everyone in Nisswa.

The snow was trampled with the boot prints of neighborhood children. Marian could pick out Ricky Owens’s path. His boots were unique. Ricky’s father had carved initials in the bottom of the rubber.

Marian followed the trail of
RO
s to the end of the block. Ricky had stopped at the park on his way home from school. There was a cluster of footprints near the Viking monument. Two other children wearing moon boots had joined him there.

The park was deserted at this hour. Fir trees stretched up to tower over the surrounding houses, and the green-painted benches were covered with snow. Marian brushed off a bench with her glove and sat down for a moment. It was so quiet, she could hear her heart beat. There was only the sound of her breathing to mar the silence.

She sat for long moments, staring up at the streetlight. A few lazy flakes of snow were falling, whirling and dancing in the circle of light. The snow stuck to her eyelids, and she brushed it away. The night was still and waiting. Was Laura up there somewhere, watching her?

The park in the winter was a lonely place. Marian shivered slightly. Her toes were numb. She could feel the cold creep through the leather of her boots. She stood up and stomped her feet. Then she pushed her hands into the deep pockets of the parka and walked back the way she had come.