by Joanne Fluke
There was nothing but pleasure on Marian’s face, and Dan sighed in relief.
“It’s funny, but I feel so much better now.” She leaned down and gave him a quick kiss. “It’s almost as if Laura’s alive again. I’m so glad you found it!”
Marian looked positively radiant. Now Dan was glad he’d given her the note.
“I think I’ll bake some cookies.” Marian slipped into her robe and pulled on her slippers. “Now that I think about it, I’m hungry too.”
As she hurried from the room, Dan gave a contented sigh. Marian was back to normal. All traces of her earlier depression were gone.
In a moment she was back, leaning against the doorway, her expression thoughtful. “I just wish Laura could write me a note now. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to know that she was happy and at peace?”
Dan nodded. What could he say? Then she was gone again, and he heard the dishes rattle as she got out the mixing bowl.
A frown crossed Dan’s face. It was really farfetched to think of Laura writing notes from the grave. He must have misunderstood Marian. Perhaps she was speaking figuratively.
Marian found a package of chocolate chips in the cupboard and mixed the dough from memory. Chocolate chip cookies were Laura’s favorites. She’d made them so often, she didn’t need a recipe. Marian took down the brown sugar and broke up the lumps with a spoon. Then she reached for the kitchen matches she kept in a box by the sink and knelt down to light the oven.
The stove was old, but Marian loved it. It had come with the house. Dan had been after her to order a new one, but Marian couldn’t bear to give it up. The white enamel finish was wearing off in spots, but it was still serviceable and it was a genuine antique. Hand-painted flowers in yellow and red decorated the door of the large oven. There was a smaller oven next to it, with a broiler beneath. Marian had never seen a stove with six burners before. Of course, it didn’t have a pilot light, but that was a minor inconvenience. She was very cautious about making sure the gas was off when the stove was not in use.
She turned on the gas and struck the match. The stove lit with a whoosh. By the time she finished mixing the dough, the oven would be ready.
In a few minutes the smell of baking cookies filled the air. Marian smiled. She felt so much better now. She really should make an effort to spend more time in the kitchen. It was a cheerful room with bright yellow walls and white curtains at the windows. Their house was the last one on the block, nestled up against the side of the big hill. Folks still called it Heidelberg Hill after the people who had built this house in the twenties.
Marian pulled aside the curtains and looked out toward the wooded hill. The wind had died down, and the moon was almost full. Tall pines dotted the white snow, and the crest of the hill was slick with frozen ice. As soon as Christmas vacation started, children would be sledding on Heidelberg Hill. The far slope was gentle, and there was a small pond at its base. Dan had always gone out to sweep the pond and reglaze the surface for the skaters. Perhaps she would do it this year.
The cookies were ready to come out of the oven. Marian smiled as she put them on the wooden board to cool. She wrapped up the extra cookie dough and put it in the freezer. She wouldn’t be caught unprepared again. By the time she had washed the mixing bowl and spoons, the cookies were cool.
“Honey, here’s some . . . oh!” Marian stopped as she caught sight of Dan. His book had dropped to the floor, and he was sound asleep. He looked peaceful and boyish, snuggled up in the blankets, and Marian didn’t have the heart to wake him.
The Reverend Harris was pontificating on Ser-monette for Tonight, and Marian turned off the television with the remote control. She supposed she should let Dan sleep. He must be tired to have fallen asleep with the television blaring and the light on.
She set the plate of cookies on his nightstand and placed the remote control next to it. If Dan woke up to watch a movie in the middle of the night, he could have his snack.
Dan didn’t wake as she turned off the light. Marian climbed into bed beside him and smiled up into the darkness. She was tired, too. They would both get a good night’s sleep tonight, and tomorrow was a new day. For the first time since the accident, Marian found herself looking forward to tomorrow.
“Marian! Wake up!”
It was seven in the morning, and the winter sun was shining weakly through the window. Marian sat up quickly, fearing the worst.
“Call Dr. Hinkley!” Dan’s voice was urgent. “I walked, Marian. . . . I know I did! I got up in the middle of the night and I walked, but now I can’t move again. Tell Dr. Hinkley to come right away!”
Marian rushed to the phone in a panic. With shaking fingers, she dialed the doctor’s number. Dan was hollering in the background for him to hurry, and Dr. Hinkley promised he’d be right over.
The doctor arrived in less than fifteen minutes. He pulled off his overshoes and handed Marian his coat.
“I’ll go right in.” Dr. Hinkley patted her hand. “Why don’t you make us a pot of coffee? Give me a couple of minutes, and then join us.”
Marian hurried to the kitchen and put on the coffee. Then she ran upstairs and dressed. She was just running a comb through her hair when the doctor called her.
Dan was sitting up in bed, alert and hopeful. His face was flushed, and his eyes were bright. It had to be true! Marian’s heart pounded in her chest. Dr. Hinkley had to tell them that Dan was recovering!
“It’s possible you walked, Dan.” Dr. Hinkley closed his bag and snapped it shut. “There’s no evidence of any change in your condition, but that really doesn’t prove anything. I’m sorry I can’t be more positive, but there’s no way I can tell whether you actually walked or whether it was a very real dream. I won’t even hazard a guess. We’ll just have to wait and see if it happens again.”
“It was so real!” Dan’s voice was eager. “I just don’t see how it could have been a dream.”
“Dreams can be very real. But even if it was a dream, it’s a good sign.” Dr. Hinkley patted Dan’s shoulder. “Subconsciously, your body wants to walk. And the subconscious is very powerful. You may have several of these dreams before your body actually responds. Keep your hopes up, Dan. And try to relax. You’ll walk again when your body’s ready.”
Marian could see the disappointment on Dan’s face. He had been so sure. Dr. Hinkley was being kind, but it was clear he didn’t believe Dan had walked.
“Is that coffee ready, Marian? I could use a cup before I make my rounds at the hospital.”
The doctor followed Marian into the kitchen. She turned to him just inside the kitchen door.
“What do you think, Dr. Hinkley?” she said softly so Dan wouldn’t hear. “Did Dan walk?”
“I can’t say, Marian. Hysterical paralysis is a tricky thing. Let’s assume that Dan did walk. It’s symptomatic that it happened in his sleep. Remember, everything hinges on his guilt about the accident. Dan’s an active man. His body is too restless not to walk, but his guilt won’t let him walk when he’s awake. It’s entirely possible the incident happened, but it’s much more likely it was only a dream.”
Marian sighed. “Dan was so happy this morning, and now he’s crushed. What can I do to help him?”
“The best thing you can do is to keep him calm and hopeful. And don’t let him get too anxious if he has these episodes again. I think we’re better off assuming they’re dreams. It’ll be easier for Dan to cope with them. If he thinks he’s sleepwalking, it might frighten him.”
Dr. Hinkley stayed for an hour, visiting with both of them. They talked about the hockey team and Nisswa’s chances for the championship. Marian could tell that Dan wasn’t really listening. Finally, the doctor left to go to the hospital.
“You’re disappointed, aren’t you, honey?” Marian sat on the side of the bed and held Dan’s hand.
“Yeah.” Dan didn’t look at her. He looked down at his legs and sighed. “I guess it was only a dream, Marian. The doctor’s right. I’m sorry I got yo
u all excited for nothing.”
“But you didn’t! It’s a good sign, Dan. You heard the doctor. I think this dream of yours was a rehearsal. You have to go over hockey plays in your head before you get out on the ice, don’t you? Your mind’s rehearsing how to walk, and pretty soon your body will do it. All you need is patience, darling. And you shouldn’t push yourself. You’ll walk again, Dan. I’m sure of it!”
Dan was relieved when Marian went to the kitchen to make breakfast. He wasn’t hungry, but he wanted to be alone. Had he walked? He still wasn’t sure. If it happened again, he wouldn’t say anything. It wasn’t fair to drag Dr. Hinkley over here for nothing. And he wouldn’t mention it to Marian. There was no sense in disappointing her if it was only a dream.
He reached down and touched his legs. There was no feeling. He made a fist and smacked his thigh, hard. Nothing. It was like hitting a punching bag. He hit his leg again and again until his arm was tired. His leg should hurt like hell, but he didn’t feel a thing. The doctor was right. It must have been a dream.
CHAPTER 5
It was noon on Monday, and Marian had spent most of the morning getting her books and papers together.
“Well, I’d better get going.” She put on a cheerful smile for Dan’s benefit. “Are you sure you don’t want me to get the wheelchair, honey? You could move around down here if you weren’t stuck in bed.”
“No!” Dan’s voice was sharp. “I’m fine here in bed, honey. Leave that damn thing in the closet. It just takes up space in here.”
Dan’s face seemed so suddenly vulnerable. Marian tried to understand. The wheelchair represented sickness, disability. It was the symbol of all the things he didn’t want to face. If only Dan could think of it as temporary, he might accept it. He had to believe he wasn’t going to be in a wheelchair forever. Dan needed to keep up his spirits if he wanted to recover.
“I’ll put the phone right here.” Marian plugged in the extension and placed it on the bedside table. “Call the school if you need anything. Mary said she’d send a message to my room right away.”
“Have a good day, honey.”
She turned back, but Dan’s eyes were closed. He’d been silent and thoughtful ever since his walking dream. She wished she could shake him out of his quiet mood, but she had to start for school. It wouldn’t do to be late on her first day back.
Marian felt empty and sad as she picked up her books and papers, and retrieved the car keys. They used to leave together. Dan would warm up the van, and they’d ride together to the school. They would kiss good-bye in the parking lot and meet again for lunch in the faculty dining room. Sometimes they’d stopped at the grocery store on the way home or taken Laura out for a hamburger. Now all that was over. Now she was alone. Marian warmed up the van herself and carried her own books and papers. Life was so very different now.
The brilliant sun glancing off the fresh white snow did nothing to erase Marian’s loneliness. She backed the van out of the garage and turned onto the plowed street, trying not to breathe too heavily until the defroster kicked in. Already the windshield was beginning to cloud on the inside, and she wiped her glove over the surface, melting a space large enough to see through. It was slightly warmer today, but she felt chilled to the bone. It was a cold born of loneliness, and she hoped going back to work would help. At least the kids in her class would be glad to see her.
“Yes, Jenny?” Marian had purposely dressed in a bright yellow pantsuit this afternoon. She wanted to appear as cheerful and normal as possible. Her second-grade students were bound to be uncomfortable, and it was up to her to reassure them. She gave Jenny Powell an encouraging smile as the tiny redhead raised her hand. Jenny got quickly to her feet and cleared her throat.
“Uh . . . Mrs. Larsen . . . well, the whole class wants you to know how sorry we are about the accident, and if there’s anything we can do to help you, all you have to do is ask.”
Jenny got to the end of her obviously prepared speech and sighed dramatically. “My mom wrote that for us, and I practiced last night. I feel so awful, Mrs. Larsen, and so do the rest of the kids. We really loved Laura, and it just isn’t fair!”
“Thank you, Jenny.” Marian swallowed hard. “That was very sweet, and thank your mother for her help. Actually, I think the best thing you can do to help me right now is to take recess five minutes early. You wouldn’t mind that, would you?”
“No, ma’am, Mrs. Larsen!” Ricky Owens spoke up from the back of the room. “Can we stay out until the regular bell? Then us guys could play King of the Mountain!”
Marian winced at his grammar, but she nodded. “Until the regular bell. Now button up those coats. It’s cold out there.”
Two minutes later it looked as though a tornado had swept through the second-grade classroom. Marian picked up a forgotten textbook and placed it neatly on top of a desk. Then she took a deep breath and headed for the teachers’ lounge. No doubt they’d all be wondering how she was doing her first day back at work.
“Do you think we should say anything?” Midge Carlson’s voice carried clearly out to the hall.
“It might be easier if we just acted the same as always,” Edith Peters, the music teacher, chimed in.
“Let’s play it by ear.” Sally was speaking now. “We’ll take our cue from Marian.”
A ghost of a smile touched Marian’s lips. They were worried about her. She’d have to set them at ease immediately, or there would be more than a few uncomfortable moments.
“No, you shouldn’t say anything.” Marian opened the door to the teachers’ lounge and walked in. “And I wish you would act the way you always do . . . especially if someone made coffee.”
“Oh, Marian!” Edith looked embarrassed. “We didn’t expect you so soon. We just didn’t know the best way to—”
“I know.” Marian smiled at the assembled group. “I’ll be sure to call out for help if I need it, so don’t worry about that. Right now I’m more interested in having a cup of this terrible coffee than anything else. Is it left over from last Friday?”
“I made it fresh this morning.” Edith hurried to pour. “Have a couple of cups, Marian. Consider it your civic duty. If someone doesn’t drink it, we’ll have it again tomorrow.”
For just a moment, with her hand on her coffee cup, Marian considered telling her friends how she really felt. She could say she was alienated, stuck in a nightmare that wouldn’t go away. It had started with Laura’s desk, the front desk in the second row. It was so empty now. She kept glancing at it, knowing that she should move another child to Laura’s place, but somehow she couldn’t. No one could take Laura’s place. Then there were the papers, the best artwork displayed on the bulletin board, with Laura’s picture among them. And the roll book, with Laura’s name in black ink. An efficient teacher would reassign Laura’s seat, file away her artwork, erase her name from the roll book. But how could she wipe out all traces of her baby when Laura was still so alive in her heart? If there was nothing left of Laura in her classroom, would the wonderful memories die, as well?
Marian wanted to confide in her friends, tell them how frightened and alone she felt, but of course, she couldn’t do that. Oh, they would be sympathetic to poor, poor Marian, but not one of them, not even Sally, would really understand.
She was quiet for a moment, and the conversation went on without her. They were talking about the Christmas program now. That was safe. Marian joined in gladly. Her class was scheduled to sing three carols. She would hold a practice right after recess.
“There goes the bell.” Marian rinsed out her cup and set it to drain on the small sink. “I promised to get the children started on their Christmas presents today. I guess we’ll make candles this year.”
She paused for a moment just outside the door. They were talking about her again, saying how brave she was, how well she managed. Marian smiled to herself as she walked up the hall, high heels clicking against the old, wooden floor. They hadn’t guessed she was playing a part. No one kn
ew the truth. Now all she had to do was never let anyone know how desperate she really felt.
For once, the faculty meeting started on time. Marian pulled out her notepad and pen, prepared to write down any schedule changes for the holiday season. There was a murmuring as the principal walked in and took his place at the lectern in the front of the library. Harvey Woodruff was a small man, dressed in a traditional brown suit, an ever-present white carnation in his lapel. He was a picture of frustrated authority as he cleared his throat and banged the small, wooden gavel on the stand for attention.
“Worse than the senior study hall.” He paused for a moment and smiled at the predictable burst of laughter. “Now that I have your attention, the December all-school faculty meeting will come to order. The secretary will read the minutes of the November meeting.”
As Miss Pepin, the home economics teacher, droned on in her colorless voice, Marian found herself staring out the window at the playground, absently noting the “angels” the younger children had made. She remembered making an angel with Laura last winter, helping her fall backward in the fresh snow, laughing as she swept her arms and legs out in arcs, and lifting her carefully to her feet to see the wings and gown she had made.
“Marian?”
She came out of her reverie with a start. Harvey was calling her name. “We’d like a report on how Dan is doing, Marian. Mrs. Baltar says she got at least a dozen calls last week from concerned parents.”
Marian stood up and nodded at the twenty-five faces turned her way. “Dr. Hinkley says there’s been no change in his condition as yet, but he’s very hopeful. Dan is in good spirits and sends his regards. He misses all of you.”
“Well, he doesn’t have to miss us for long!” Drew Burns stood up. “Tell Dan his hockey team is suffering from a lack of expert attention and they’ve written up a petition for him to come back. They say they don’t care if he can get out on the ice with them or not. They’ll rig up some way to get him out to the rink and back, if he’ll just be there for practice. Those kids miss him, Marian. Try to convince Dan that it’s his duty to come back right away.”
