Winter Chill (6 page)

 

 

“You know how I feel about it, Marian.” Dan’s voice was firm. “I won’t go back to work if I feel I can’t fulfill the terms of my contract.”

“But how about the team, honey?” Marian made an effort to be cheerful as she brought in his morning coffee and sat next to him. “The boys simply won’t accept a substitute. They’re convinced that no one else can coach them. You could coach from the sidelines, couldn’t you? They really need you.”

“Sure, I could coach from the sidelines.” Dan gave a bitter grin. “That’d be fine if I coached basketball or baseball. Hockey’s different, Marian. You’ve seen me out there with the team. You know how critical it is to demonstrate everything. How am I going to skate from a wheelchair? Tell me that!”

“Now, honey, don’t get upset.” Marian tried to be calm and reasonable. “Why don’t you get Cliff Heller to do the demonstrations? I’m sure the boys will cooperate. They’re so anxious to get you back.”

“It wouldn’t be the same, but it might just work.” Dan frowned thoughtfully. “That’s not a bad idea, Marian. I think Cliff could handle the demonstrations if I gave him some extra time. It might even be good for him. He wants to be a coach someday. I don’t know, Marian. . . . The thought of getting pushed to practice in a wheelchair is pretty hard for me to handle. Maybe I should give up coaching for good.”

“Now, don’t be silly!” Marian reached out to take his hand. “You’re a wonderful coach, and it’s just plain ridiculous to talk that way. Before you know it, you’ll be right back out on the ice with the team. Dr. Hinkley’s sure your condition isn’t permanent. Wouldn’t it be dumb to give up your coaching job and then find yourself all recovered a week later?”

“Maybe.” Dan met her eyes and then looked quickly away. In that brief contact, Marian saw his despair. Dan was convinced he wasn’t going to get better. He had lost hope.

“I’ve got to run, or I’ll be late.” Marian got up and headed for the door. “Don’t forget that Ronnie’s dropping by this afternoon. I baked the rest of those cookies, and they’re in the jar in the kitchen.”

“Have a good day, Marian.”

She turned at the doorway, but Dan was already switching on the television. He sounded so sad and lonely that she hated to leave him. At least he’d have company today. Ronnie was coming in this afternoon. She hoped Ronnie would be persuasive. Going back to work was the only thing that would perk up Dan’s spirits.

Dan switched off the television the moment she left. He needed to think. Marian was trying to hide it, but he saw how depressed she had been. He’d heard her moving around in Laura’s room when she thought he was asleep, and he knew exactly what she was doing. Marian was looking for another note from Laura. It had become an obsession with her. If he wrote another note, she’d be happy again.

No. He couldn’t deceive her again. The notes might be bad for her in the long run. There had to be some other solution, some other way to bring her out of her depression.

He knew what she wanted. Dan winced as he came to a painful decision. He had to conquer his fear and go back to work. It was the only thing that would help. If he went back to work, she could stop worrying about him. He’d be there, in the same building with her.

There was a knock on the door, and Dan called out. Ronnie was early. In a way, he was glad Ronnie was here. He needed something to take his mind off his problems.

 

 

“Hi, Marian!” Dan’s cheerful voice greeted her as she opened the front door. “Ronnie just left.”

“Sounds like you had a good visit.” Marian rushed to the den and stopped at the doorway in sudden confusion. The formerly neat little room was a total disaster. Newspapers were spread out all over the bed, an open package of Doritos was leaning against the lamp, and the wastebasket was full of crumpled balls of notepaper. In the midst of it all, Dan was sitting propped up in bed, writing something on a clipboard.

“Good heavens!” Marian leaned against the wall, staring at Dan. A smelly cigar was clamped, unlit, between his teeth. “What happened?”

“Oh, I guess we made a mess.” Dan grinned up at her. “Ronnie was here all afternoon.”

“And the cigar must be Ronnie’s contribution.” Marian wrinkled her nose as she picked up several beer cans and forced them into the overflowing wastebasket. “What are you doing, Dan?”

“Ronnie saved all the sports pages for me.” Dan grinned and handed her the cigar. “Throw that away for me, will you, Marian? I don’t know how Ronnie can smoke these things.”

“You’re working out hockey plays!” Marian bent over to look at the clipboard. “Does that mean you’re going back to work?”

“I have to,” Dan said cheerfully. “Ronnie talked me into it. He laid down a fifty-dollar bet on the championship, and he can’t afford to lose it. If I don’t get back to work on Monday, he says he’ll switch his bet to Brainerd.”

Marian stood still, staring at Dan’s clipboard. She could hardly believe her ears.

A smile of genuine amazement flooded over her face. Dan looked so much better. Thank God for Ronnie Powell and his disgusting cigars!

“Ronnie told me a new joke.” Dan gave her a rakish wink. “Did you hear about the Brainerd hockey team? It seems they all drowned.”

“And why did they drown, Dan?” Marian played the straight man with a grin.

“Their coach sent them out for spring training!”

Marian groaned. “That’s about what I expected from Ronnie.”

“Now, run off and let me go back to work.” Dan waved her away with a grin. “Oh, those cookies were good. Ronnie raided the cookie jar for us, so I won’t be hungry for a couple of hours. And, Marian? I really love you, honey.”

She was still laughing as she went to the kitchen. The joke wasn’t really that funny, but she felt wonderful. Dan was going back to work. She’d make something special for supper to celebrate.

Marian ran some water and washed the coffeepot. She took a roast from the refrigerator, seasoned it, and popped it in the oven. Next she’d roll out a piecrust and make Dan’s favorite apple pie for dessert.

There was a Popsicle in the freezer, left over from summer. Yesterday the sight of Laura’s treat would have desolated her. Tonight it had no effect at all. She was happy. Dan was going back to work.

Marian stopped and listened. She stood perfectly still and let the feeling of closeness wash over her.

“Hello, baby!” she whispered. “Your daddy’s going back to work!”

CHAPTER 7

Dan arranged his books and papers again and looked up at the clock. His students would be here in five minutes. Marian had driven him to school early so he could get everything organized before his first class. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as he had anticipated. His wheelchair fit neatly behind the desk. If he tried hard enough, he could almost make himself believe that he was sitting in a regular desk chair. Of course, he couldn’t get up and pace the way he usually did. And he supposed he’d have to appoint a scribe for each class, some student with good handwriting to make notes on the board.

All in all, he felt much more confident than he had anticipated. Teaching history should be fairly easy, even from a wheelchair. The big problem would come in hockey practice.

The bell rang, and students began to stream into the room. “Welcome back!” Ginny Davis gushed. “We really missed you, Mr. Larsen.”

Jerry Lindstrom spoke up. “We had Mrs. Hendricks last week. She must be at least ninety. All we did was read.”

“I’ll have to remember that if I’m ever gone again.” Dan grinned. “Somebody in this school should teach you boneheads to read.”

There was a groan, and the class faced him expectantly. For a second Dan felt real panic. What did they want?

Oh, yes. The absence slip. He got out his class roster and read off the names. It was strange how quickly he’d forgotten the routine.

“Do you want me to write on the board, Mr. Larsen?” Ginny raised her hand. “I volunteer.”

“Fine.” Dan beamed at her. He’d never been wild about Ginny before, but today she was a real sweetheart. “Write down ‘the Industrial Revolution. England. Eighteenth century.’”

It was a total surprise when the bell rang. Time seemed to fly this morning. Dan dismissed his class and took a second to relax. So far, everything was going just fine. It had been a good lecture, and his class was attentive. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

The door opened in the middle of second period. Harvey Woodruff stuck his head in, waved, and backed out again. Dan shrugged, and the class laughed.

It happened again ten minutes before the bell. This time it was Tom Woolery from across the hall. A smile, a wave, and he was gone.

“Tomorrow we’d better discuss the open door policy,” Dan quipped. The class seemed to find his humor uproarious, but he still managed to quiet them down in time to give an assignment before the bell.

Third period was even worse. Lois Scott, Dave Bartleman, and Mary Baltar peeked in. Dan knew everyone wanted to say hello, but couldn’t they wait until lunchtime? It was difficult to teach with these constant interruptions.

He had just dismissed his third-period class when he figured it out. They were checking up on him!

“Leave the door open, Hank,” Dan called out loudly. “It seems my fellow faculty members are all checking up on me today. Maybe they think I’m showing dirty movies in here.”

The class enjoyed his joke, but he had to fight to keep his mind on his lecture. Dan did a slow burn all through fourth period. Four teachers passed his room, waving cheerily. What did they expect? Did they think he was going to fall out of his wheelchair and break his nose?

At last it was lunchtime, and Dan stayed in his classroom as the students filed out. He’d really prefer to take his lunch in here, away from the stares of the other teachers, but Harvey had vetoed that idea. He said it was important to get right into the swing of things.

Dan propped his elbows on the desk and closed his eyes. He was tired, and he didn’t feel like socializing. Marian would be waiting for him, and she’d want to hear all about his morning. He wished there were a broom closet he could hide in.

 

 

Marian poured herself a cup of coffee from the giant urn on the counter and carried it to the table. She was much too nervous to eat. Voices buzzed all around her, but she took no part in the conversation. Any moment now, Dan would be here. Harvey Woodruff had promised to bring him to the lunchroom personally.

There was an excited buzz, and the door to the teachers’ lunchroom opened.

“He’s back!” Harvey pushed Dan’s wheelchair through the door. “Somebody get a tray for Dan, and it’ll be like old times.”

He wheeled Dan to an empty table and held up his hand. “And let the man eat before you bombard him with questions. I don’t want any complaints about short lunch hours.”

Marian took her place beside Dan. He looked tired. His face was white and drawn, but he seemed to be in good spirits.

“How was it, honey?” she asked softly.

“Pretty good.” Dan gave a little grin. “Actually, my bonehead history class was better than they’ve ever been before. They must have felt sorry for me. Maybe being a cripple has some advantages.”

“Oh, Dan . . . don’t talk like that. You’re not a cripple. This is just temporary. Remember what Dr. Hinkley said.”

“Sure.” Dan looked up to smile at Dorothy Pepin as she brought a tray. “Mmmm . . . steam-table macaroni and canned peas. My favorites! And yellow pudding for dessert. Just look at what I’ve been missing.”

“They really could make a more appetizing meal.” Dorothy peered down at the tray over her silver-rimmed glasses. “Even my seventh-grade girls can do better than this. I’ll send you up some cookies later, Dan. My seniors are doing a unit on nutritional snacks.”

“Granola and sorghum,” Dan muttered as Dorothy went back to her table. “Or safflower and wheat germ. I know Dorothy’s nutritional snacks. They’re practically inedible.”

“It was sweet of her to offer.” Marian grinned a little. “She probably thinks they’re wonderful, Dan. See how thin she is? That’s because she cooks nutritious foods.”

“Oh, for a TV dinner!” Dan groaned. “Compared to Dorothy’s recipes, even this stuff looks good. I guess I’d better see how much macaroni I can get down before the bell.”

“I’ll stay until you’re through with hockey practice,” Marian offered. “Just have one of the boys come to my room when you’re ready to go home.”

“Fine.” Dan scooped up a spoonful of peas. “It’ll be a short practice today. The wind’s starting to blow.”

“Don’t get cold out there. And make sure you wear your gloves.” Marian stopped suddenly, her face coloring with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, honey. I know you’re perfectly able to take care of yourself.”

“Yes.” Dan pushed his tray back and checked his watch. “I’d better get going so I can beat the rush in the halls.”

“Let me push you.” Marian got up and moved to the back of his chair. “It’ll be faster that way.”

“No.” Dan’s tone was flat. “I don’t want you doing everything for me, Marian. I’m going to have to get used to this, and it might as well be now.”

Without another word, he clumsily turned the wheelchair and headed for the door. One of the other teachers opened it, and he propelled the chair through.

The bell rang loudly, and Marian picked up her cup and carried it to the trays against the wall. She could hear the shouts of students racing to class as she left the lunchroom and entered the corridor. Dan was just turning the corner in his wheelchair. Several students were clustered around him, and Cliff Heller was pushing. For a second, Marian felt a stab of unreasonable jealousy. He hadn’t wanted her to push his chair, but it was fine if Cliff did. She felt like an outsider with her own husband.

“Your kids are in.” Sally rushed past her with a quick smile. “They came back from the playground a little early. It’s cold out there!” Marian quickened her pace and arrived at her room slightly out of breath. Her class was back indeed. And they were shouting like a bunch of wild animals.

“That’s enough!” Marian flicked the light switch for order. “Let’s all calm down now, and I’ll read us a story. How about another chapter in
Charlotte’s Web
?”

 

 

“Marian?” Drew called to her across the crowded room. The teachers’ lounge was always hectic this time of day. “Come over here a second, will you?”

Drew pulled out a chair for her and patted it. “Take a load off your feet. And smile, for God’s sake. You look terrible.”

“Just tired, I guess.” Marian tried to force a smile, but it failed miserably. She’d been on pins and needles all afternoon. Even her class knew that something was wrong. She’d lost her place in the reading text and assigned the wrong problems for math.

“You don’t have to worry about Dan.” Drew patted her shoulder. “I checked on him fifth period, and he was in top form. They were discussing Waterloo when I poked my head in the door. Dan was Napoleon, and the class was Wellington. I think the history books are wrong. It really sounded like France was winning.”

“Dan could teach history in his sleep.” Marian smiled. “It’s hockey practice that worries me. Dan’s out at the rink right now.”

“We could always check it out.” Drew flashed a conspiratorial grin. “Why don’t we go for a walk and just happen to drop by the hockey rink?”

Marian frowned. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Dan’s a little upset about coaching in a wheelchair. An audience might embarrass him.”

“Don’t be silly, Marian. Dan’s a good friend of mine. He won’t be a bit upset if I drop in to take a look. And he certainly couldn’t object if you came along. He’ll probably be glad to see you.”

Drew was persuasive. Marian wrapped her coat tightly around her and waited for him to join her. She tied her scarf securely and slid her hands into warm gloves. It was growing cold. The big thermometer attached to the side of the building stood at fifteen above zero.

As she walked across the playground with Drew, Marian had thoughts of turning back. Would Dan be angry if they dropped by without an invitation? She needed reassurance too badly to back out now. They could take a quick peek and then go right back to the school. She had to make sure that Dan was all right.

They stood at the very back of the wooden bleachers, partially hidden by the crossbeams. Dan was on the sidelines, shouting out to the team. He was wearing his huge winter parka, but he looked small and defenseless in the distance. Marian wanted to rush to him and give him her long, woolen scarf, or at least turn up his collar. He was all alone, the wheelchair a dark blotch against the gray winter sky.

Marian shivered slightly. The wind was cruel today, and watching Dan made her icy inside. He had always been the strong one, streaking across the ice with exuberance. He was the one who told the boys they weren’t tired, that they were weaklings if they couldn’t keep up with a thirty-three-year-old man. Now, suddenly, he looked frail.

“Cold?” Drew turned to look at her. “Come on, Marian. . . . Dan’s doing fine. Let’s go back inside, where it’s warm.”

“Just a second more.” Marian saw Cliff Heller skate over to Dan. There was a little conference, and Dan turned his head their way. He had seen them. Dan beckoned to her, and she left Drew standing there as she hurried to the edge of the rink.

“Coming out to check up on your crippled husband?” Dan smiled coldly.

“Dan!” Marian blinked back sudden tears. He was really angry. Now she was sorry she hadn’t stayed inside. “I’m not checking up on you.” Marian’s voice shook. “I just thought I could save you some time. I’m through in my classroom, Dan. Now you don’t have to send one of the boys to get me.”

“Go back inside, Marian. And take Drew with you. We’ll talk about this later.”

Dan turned away and blew a sharp blast on his whistle. He totally ignored Marian as the team came in from the ice.

“Let’s do that last play again.” He reached out to slap Gene Watson on the arm. “This is hockey, Watson, not figure skating. It doesn’t matter if you look pretty. All you have to worry about is speed.”

“Okay, Coach.” Gene grinned. “I think I got it now. Give me another crack at it, huh?”

It was clear that Dan had dismissed her. Marian walked quickly back to Drew, her back rigid.

“He’s really mad,” she explained. “He told me to go back inside.”

The crust of the snow was hard, and their boots crunched with every step as they walked back toward the school. Drew patted her shoulder awkwardly.

“We shouldn’t have gone. He was furious, Drew. I guess we embarrassed him, after all.”

“Aw, you’re imagining things.” Drew gave her a grin. “Dan’s all right. He’s just tired, that’s all. He shouldn’t have taken on all his classes and the hockey, too. They offered to give him half days, but he refused.”

They reached the teachers’ parking lot, and Drew headed toward his car. “See you tomorrow, Marian. And don’t worry. Dan’ll be fine as soon as practice is over.”

Marian was busy in the kitchen, and Dan turned up the volume on the television. They’d have to talk soon. He couldn’t stand the silence any longer. But how could he explain the awful surge of anger he felt when he saw her standing there with Drew?

Of course, he was being unreasonable. Dan knew that. He was sure Marian hadn’t deliberately set out to hurt him when she came out to the rink with Drew. The problem was in his own mind. Something had snapped when he saw them standing there, his pretty little wife and Drew.