He had arrived three days before Thanksgiving, and she cooked meatloaf for them that night. He loved it. And the following night, they went to the Watsons’, so he could meet Helen and Jeff. Jeff monopolized him, but Helen got to see how loving Paul was with Maggie, and she loved him for the way he treated her and the look in Maggie’s eyes. Helen thought Maggie was a lucky woman. She had had two men who truly loved her in one lifetime. Some women never had even one. She and Jeff had had their ups and downs, and had finally accepted that it would never be exactly what either of them wanted, but it was good enough. But what Paul and Maggie shared was very different. They were like soul mates who had found each other at last, or found each other again. Helen didn’t even think Maggie had been as well suited to Brad, but would never have said it to her, out of respect for the dead. Paul was what every woman dreamed of, and only a rare few ever found. Maggie had.
“If you don’t marry him, I will,” Helen whispered to her, and Maggie laughed.
“He hasn’t asked,” Maggie reminded her. In fact, the subject had never come up, and Maggie hadn’t been longing to marry him, she was comfortable as she was. They had everything they wanted and needed, and she wasn’t sure if marriage was necessary, or if she even wanted it. If she married him, she might wind up a widow again. Although if he was killed racing, married or not, it would be just as bad. “I thought I’d let him calm down a bit, before I think about it. Like maybe when he’s eighty or ninety. I don’t think he’ll be civilized much before that. He needs to burn off some energy first. He’s going helicopter skiing the day after Thanksgiving. He’s officially crazy.” Jeff overheard her say it and questioned Paul about it, who said he’d been doing it for ten years.
“I’m the old man in the group now, but they let me come anyway. I figure I’ll stop doing it next year. I just turned fifty, so I’m going to make this the last time.”
“I’ve always wanted to do that. Helen won’t let me.” Jeff cast a glance at his wife and rolled his eyes.
“No problem. Just leave me the full amount for the boys’ college education in an account, and you can go helicopter skiing anytime you want,” Helen said tartly. “But you’re not leaving me stuck with that.” They all laughed, but Helen looked serious. Having three kids had been a stretch for them financially, even though Jeff had a good job. She’d given up her own job as a copywriter in advertising to raise them, and it hadn’t been easy for them with only one income.
Aden, Maggie, and Paul had dinner in town the next night, and then Aden went out with his friends. The next day they had what Paul called a Norman Rockwell Thanksgiving.
“I used to see pictures in magazines of people who had Thanksgivings like this. I’ve never seen one for real, let alone had one.” He looked on the verge of tears again.
The turkey was a perfect golden brown, the vegetables looked like an artist had painted them. Maggie had set the table with her mother’s best lace tablecloth. She had used the china that had belonged to Brad’s parents, and the crystal they had bought to go with it. The food was perfect and smelled delicious. Aden sliced the turkey the way he had seen his father do every year, and Paul opened the bottle of wine Aden had taken him to buy the day before. The food tasted as good as it appeared, and for dessert Maggie had outdone herself with apple, pumpkin, mince, and pecan pies, with whipped cream and vanilla ice cream. It was a feast, and their conversation was lively and happy. Aden put music on and they danced afterwards, the three of them, and then he went out with friends, while Maggie and Paul tidied up the kitchen, and then danced to the music still playing. There was an old song from the forties playing that Maggie had always liked, and remembered her mother singing.
“If I die this minute, I’ll have been a happy man,” Paul whispered to her, and she smiled.
“I’m happy too. I love having you here. I was afraid the house wasn’t nice enough for you. You’re used to such fancy places now.”
“Don’t forget where I grew up,” he reminded her. “I always dreamed of having a house like this. What I have now is an accident. It’s a winning lottery ticket and I know it. This is what I always wanted, and never had. It’s my dream. I love this house, and you in it, and Aden and all the places he showed me when I got here: his school, the pond, all of it.” It was why she had married Brad, to have a life like this. Paul understood that now and she’d been right. They hadn’t needed anything more than this. No one did, in his opinion. This was what made people strong and healthy, and not chasing rainbows all their life. This was the rainbow and the pot of gold at the end of it. It was what most people ran after and never found. He never had. He had found untold wealth from his fame, his investments, and the risks he took, but he had never found this kind of solid foundation, and knew he never would without Maggie. She knew that about him too. He needed her for this. He would never find it on his own. And she hoped that with enough of this kind of love, he wouldn’t need to chase the lightning flashes anymore, or the dangers that fell from the sky. He didn’t need to climb Everest. All he needed to do was come home, if he could ever figure that out. She hoped he would one day.
They sat in front of the fire for a while, and then they went upstairs and made love. She couldn’t feel Brad’s spirit in her bedroom anymore. He had been laid to rest. The room was hers and she shared it with Paul with an open heart. His bag was already packed to leave the next day. He fell asleep as she smiled down at him and stroked his hair like a little boy. She held him for a long time, and then went to sleep next to him.
He was leaving at four a.m. to drive his rented car back to Chicago and catch his plane to meet his friends. He was picking them up at two stops along the way and heading north for their big adventure. When he got up, he didn’t want to leave Maggie and wished he could stay. It was warm and cozy next to her in bed. It took all the effort he could muster to get up and leave her.
She walked him downstairs in her nightgown, after Paul was dressed. She gave him coffee in a thermos to take with him, and stood in the freezing air in the doorway kissing him. There was ice on the ground outside.
“Go back in, you’ll catch pneumonia,” he whispered to her. He didn’t want to wake Aden, and had said goodbye to him before he went out the night before. Paul was coming back to spend Christmas with them, which was only a month away.
Maggie was staying in Lake Forest for December. The second anniversary of Brad’s death would be before she saw Paul again, and she needed to go through it alone. Aden’s school vacation started that day, and he was coming home, so they’d be together.
She kissed Paul one last time, and waved as he ran to his car, turned the key in the ignition, and started it. A minute later he took off, with a wave to her. She walked back into the house, shivering, thinking of him. It had been a beautiful Thanksgiving, she was glad he had come. He felt like part of the family now. She knew Paul felt it too. And she knew it was true when Paul had told her it was the best Thanksgiving of his life. It was the best gift she could have given him. Their first Thanksgiving was a memory she would never forget.
Chapter 14
Maggie couldn’t get back to sleep once Paul left the morning after Thanksgiving. She felt anxious about the ski trip, and knew she was foolish to worry. Paul was the oldest man in the group, but he was an outstanding skier, probably better than the rest of them. He and the others had been training for several months and were in perfect shape. They had one of the best guides in the business, a superb pilot, and the best equipment money could buy. They knew the area, and had been there before, although they moved around a lot, depending on the snow and weather conditions, so each trip was different from the one before. Paul was in great condition, and kept his body toned and strong. He had climbed Everest, and this was a piece of cake compared to that. Paul had said so. But Everest was sixteen years before, at thirty-four, and this was dangerous enough.
Paul had given Maggie a number she could c
all to get periodic reports. It was the helicopter dispatch office. She couldn’t call Paul directly. There was no cell service where they were staying. They would be carrying radios to communicate with the base and each other, and they were each wearing an avalanche signal, in case they got buried, so someone could find them. They had the most modern equipment for this kind of skiing, and state-of-the-art clothing to keep them warm in the coldest conditions. Paul liked testing his endurance every year, to check how strong he was and how much resilience he still had. There was a tremendous sense of personal accomplishment when he came home after a week of pushing himself that hard. Every year he felt healthy and powerful for months afterwards. It was a rite of passage, a test of one’s manhood, which was hard for Maggie to understand. To her it just seemed unnecessarily dangerous, like everything else he did. Paul challenged himself every day, in one way or another. It was his way of proving to himself that he was still alive and at the top of his game. She understood that about him, and the reasons for it, but she wished there were some other way for him to prove himself, without risking his life. She had never understood male rituals like running with the bulls in Pamplona, where office workers and young boys risked getting gored by a bull in the streets of Spain. All a person had to do there was be able to leap over a fence in time. Paul would have to use his utmost skill skiing, and jumping out of the helicopter in just the right way at the right time. He would have to be able to stay ahead of potentially lethal weather conditions, endure the freezing cold, and flawlessly judge the terrain he would be skiing. A single mistake or careless moment could cost him his life, and those of his companions. It was a gamble of the most extreme kind, and precisely what Paul loved above all else. He needed to challenge himself and come home victorious. And she was left to wait it out day by day.
She stayed busy for the first few days. Aden left on Sunday to go back to Boston. She hadn’t heard anything by then and didn’t expect to. No one was supposed to call her. She could call the helicopter dispatcher if she wanted news of them, but she didn’t want to make a nuisance of herself. She thought of calling them on Monday, but decided not to. She did research for her online gallery to keep busy. She still had a lot to do before she could get started.
On Tuesday morning, she turned the TV on in her kitchen while she made coffee, just to hear some friendly voices in the quiet house. She didn’t pay much attention to who was being interviewed, and then saw a news bulletin roll across the screen, so she switched to the news channel. They said there had been an avalanche in Western Canada, in British Columbia, the day before, one of the worst in its history. Two groups of expert skiers who had been helicoptered in had disappeared. They had been missing for almost twenty-four hours by then. Maggie could feel her throat get tight as she listened. She could hardly breathe.
She fumbled in her purse for the number Paul had given her, and she called immediately with shaking hands. The dispatcher confirmed that Paul’s group was one of the two groups that were missing. They were in fact wearing avalanche transceivers, but a storm had come in, and rescue helicopters had been unable to get into the area. They were waiting for conditions to clear. Maggie could barely formulate the questions she wanted to ask them. She wanted to know how long they could survive in the freezing conditions until they were rescued, but she didn’t have the guts to ask them. One day? Two? Four? Five? Ten? None? And how soon did they think the helicopters could go in?
They told her they were hopeful that in the next few hours they could fly a mission, but they might have to wait another twenty-four hours. Another storm front was moving into the area. They gave it to her straight, with no apology and no hesitation. They knew that anyone who skied with them was fully aware of what the risks were. Paul had known them too. It was part of the thrill for him.
“We’ve had some really nasty weather,” the dispatcher told her. “They may all be fine, and we’re just too far away to pick up their transceiver signals. We need to get in and be a lot closer. They know what to do. There are no novices in the group. And they’ve got the best lead guide in Western Canada.” But Maggie knew, as he did, that sometimes the experts and the best guides died too. He suggested that she call again that evening, and when she did, he had no news then either. The predicted storm had come in, and all their helicopters were grounded. The rescue patrols had been alerted, but there was nothing they could do. “The weather dictates what we do up here,” he said, and Maggie thanked him.
Helen was sitting in her kitchen with her by then, and had been there since Maggie called her in a panic that morning and told her what had happened. Maggie hated to do it, but she had called Aden too. She didn’t want him to see it on the news. He sounded devastated when she told him, and he had stayed home from class all day to watch CNN in case there was any news.
“When he comes back, I’m going to kill him for doing this to my kid,” she said to Helen through clenched teeth. Aden had nearly burst into tears when she told him.
“Never mind Aden,” Helen said, “he’s doing this to you too. This is why I won’t let Jeff go up there. He thinks he’s such a hotshot skier, and he’s never climbed Everest like Paul.”
“That was sixteen years ago, he’s fifty now. He’s too old for this and he knows it. He said this was going to be his last year.”
Helen refused to leave Maggie alone that night and stayed with her. Jeff felt terrible about what was happening and said he’d stay with the kids. Maggie called Aden again that night, but there was no further news. And it was worse the next morning, on Wednesday. The dispatcher told her they had confirmed reports of a second avalanche in the area during the night. But at least the sky had cleared enough for the helicopter rescue patrols to go in and cruise around, searching for signals.
Maggie reported back to Helen, and they spent another day in her kitchen, watching the news channel, waiting to hear something and periodically calling the dispatcher. Maggie had insisted that Aden go back to class. She didn’t want him sitting there, agonized the way they were. She promised to call him as soon as they heard anything. Paul’s group had been missing for forty-eight hours by then. It felt like a year. She remembered his stories about Everest and wondered if it had been anything like this.
It was another endless night waiting to hear something, and Helen had to go home to her kids. She was back at eight the next morning, after her boys left for school. It was Thursday by then, and by noon the other group had been found. Four of them were dead. Two had died of asphyxiation in the avalanche, two had died of broken necks, and the other two had been airlifted out and were in critical condition. There was still no sign of Paul’s group. The patrols had hovered over the entire area for as long as they could, and had picked up no signals from their transceivers. There was no evidence of them anywhere. The patrols had questioned if they may have moved faster than expected and left the area, but there was no sign of them in a wide radius. It was almost like searching for survivors at sea.
That night was even harder for Maggie, alone again. She felt like she was reliving Brad’s death. All her old signs of PTSD returned and she tried to ignore them. But there was no way she could justify this to herself. He hadn’t died in the line of duty for his country like her brother in Iraq, even though that had seemed senseless to her too. He hadn’t died while doing his job, like her father. He had done this for sport and to prove something no one cared about, about how big a man he was, and now they couldn’t goddamn find him under the snow, and he had probably suffocated or died of a broken neck like the other men. And for what? The full force of what it meant being with him hit her like a wrecking ball while she waited.
The search continued on Friday morning, and the dispatcher told her they were “still guardedly hopeful,” which didn’t sound good to her. Helen suspected Paul was dead by then, but didn’t say anything to Maggie. She felt desperately sorry for her, and Jeff did too.
The patrols found a single sig
nal at noon. Paul’s group had been missing for four days by then, and had gone farther afield than the rescue patrols thought they could, possibly trying to avoid the storm that was coming in. There was only one signal, and Maggie selfishly prayed it would be Paul’s. They had found each other again after thirty years, and she didn’t want it to end like this, with him dead under an avalanche on some kind of insane macho pleasure trip. The rescuers located the other signals that afternoon, scattered in the area. At first they thought there was too much wind to go in. And then, mercifully, the wind died down, and they were able to fly in.
They found Paul’s group just before dark. Maggie felt like she was in a daze by then, as she listened to what they could tell her on the phone. Three of the men were dead, the tail guide too. Two were in critical condition. The lead guide was in a coma with a shattered spine. An hour later she learned that Paul was one of the men in critical condition. They were airlifting them to the Trauma Center at Vancouver General Hospital, but by the time they got there, the lead guide had died. He was thirty-six years old and had four kids.
Maggie sat in her kitchen feeling paralyzed, not sure what to do, if she should make a run for it and go to him, or wait for further news once he got to the hospital. He might even be dead by then. She called Aden to tell him Paul was alive but in critical condition. It was all she knew, she didn’t know the extent of his injuries, or what his chances for survival were. Probably very slim by now. They had been out there for too long.
Nine Lives Page 18
