Winter Chill

by Joanne Fluke

  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, partia
lly 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.

  Dan gave a bitter laugh. Marian was so innocent. She’d never guess that Drew had designs on her. Hadn’t she heard the stories about Drew and his female conquests? It was the favorite topic of discussion in the faculty lounge.

  The tension built with every moment that passed. Marian was a nervous wreck by the time she stacked the dishes in the sink. Dan hadn’t said a word all through their meal. Now it was bedtime, and Marian could stand the silence no longer. It would only be worse if she didn’t get things straightened out.

  “I’m sorry I came out to the hockey rink, Dan.” Marian’s voice was shaking. “I never meant to embarrass you.”

  Before she realized what was happening, tears fell down her cheeks. Then Dan held out his arms, and she rushed to him, sobbing openly.

  “It’s my fault, Marian. Don’t cry. I acted like a real bastard today. I can blame it on the fact that I was afraid, but that doesn’t excuse anything. I never should have taken it out on you.”

  “You were afraid?” Marian raised her head to look at him. There was a pained expression on Dan’s face.

  “When I saw you at hockey practice, I was afraid of losing you. I saw you standing there with Drew, and it was like someone stabbed a knife through my heart. You and Drew look good together, Marian. I saw the two of you walking through the snow. Then I thought of us, you and me, and how we’d look. You’d have to push me in the wheelchair, Marian. We’d look like some kind of freak couple. Everyone would pity you because you were stuck with a cripple!”

  “No! That’s not right, Dan! No one would . . .”

  Dan put a finger to her lips. “There’s more, Marian. I probably won’t have the nerve to say this again. Let me finish . . . please?

  “You’re beautiful, Marian. No one knows that better than I do. And you deserve a man to love you. I can’t do any more than hug you at night. That’s why I’m afraid of Drew. He can give you what I can’t. Don’t you know the kind of reputation he has?”

  “Oh, Dan!” Anguish was in Marian’s voice. “All I want is you, darling! I don’t want Drew. You should know that. I think you’re being unfair to him. Drew’s always been your good friend, and nothing’s changed. Just because he’s been nice doesn’t mean he wants to sleep with me.”

  “He’d be a fool not to want you.” Dan gave a sad little smile. “I trust you, honey. And I believe you’d turn him down. But how will you feel a year from now? There’s no guarantee I’ll ever walk again.”

  “Dan, I love you.” Marian took his hand and squeezed it. “I’m not looking for anyone else. I’ll never look for anyone else. Drew means absolutely nothing to me, and I won’t even talk to him again if it bothers you. I want you, Dan. You’re my husband. The vows we made mean something to me, and I intend to obey them.”

  He reached out to hold her then, and Marian cuddled up against his chest. She stroked his cheek with her fingers and kissed him softly. His body was tense, and she rubbed his neck, fingers working lovingly to ease the tension.

  Dan’s breathing deepened with sleep. She could feel his tense muscles relax. Poor Dan. All this was her fault. She had been so busy thinking about her own problems, she’d failed to see the terrible burden he was carrying.

  Marian turned off the light and stared up at the darkness. Was Dan right, after all? She did miss the physical closeness they had shared. No, Dan was wrong. She was his wife. She didn’t want another man. She would never want another man.

  She could see the moonlight sparkle on the surface of the water. She was . . . yes . . . in a bedroom, walls lined with pine, giving off a faint scent of freshness in the still night air. There was a light burning in another room, the hiss of a lantern, the soft thudding of summer bugs against the screens. It was hot, but there was a breeze gently cooling her body. She was naked, lying comfortably on crisp, white sheets.

  A sound came from the other room, the pop of a cork, the smooth gurgle of something poured from a bottle. And now he was standing in the doorway, blocking out the light so she could not see his features. She recognized his hard, muscled body. She knew it well.

  There was the tingle of fine champagne on her tongue, the muted laughter they shared over a toast, the soft gasp she gave as his lips claimed hers. The rock-solid feeling of his body as they slipped together, sweaty and not caring, on the cool sheets.

  And then there was rapture, the feel of his lips touching her, exploring her body, the sweet saltiness of his skin against her tongue, the probing, heady hunger that made her wild, crying out for more, welcoming the fantasies of a thousand dreams.

  She was more than ready, craving his love, eager to taste all the familiar pleasures that had been denied her lately. She opened her eyes and looked up, loving the lean, long look of him. Her fingers played along his
cheekbone, tracing the fine lines at the corners of his mouth. Laugh lines, as her grandmother had called them. The tips of her fingers brushed against his skin, stroking, loving. They were lost in an eternity of passion.

  Now the room was growing brighter, the morning sun was peeping over the edge of the pines. She could smell the clean, fresh air and feel the exhilaration of being awake, together, before another living soul. The stereo was on. She knew it was her favorite song, but she couldn’t quite make out the melody. And now it was playing the same note over and over, stuck on a groove, the same note again and again and again....

  “Oh, God!” Marian sat up and turned off the electronic alarm. The sun was vainly trying to enter the cracks in the venetian blinds, and morning was here. She had to hurry, or they’d be late.

  She slipped out of bed silently. Dan was still asleep. She’d get ready and then wake him. He needed his rest. She just hoped that today would be easier than yesterday.

  She was dressing when she thought of it. Laura was getting behind on her classwork. She’d bring home some books tonight and a copy of the assignments.

  “Would you like that, baby?” Marian whispered the words. “I could help you right here at home.”

  She stood still for a moment, and then she smiled. Yes. Laura was here. She could feel her baby’s presence. And she was right. Laura wanted to keep up with the rest of her class.

  CHAPTER 8

  “I got the call last night, and I still can’t believe it. I went in to interview over three years ago!”

  Drew sat facing them in the teachers’ lunchroom. His tray was barely touched, and he was obviously too excited to eat.

  “The Knicks?” Dan’s tone was awed. “Go for it, Drew. That’s what you’ve wanted all along, isn’t it?”