Freefall

by Robin Brande

  As she walked toward him, she watched. Wondered when he would finally see her. How his face might change with the recognition. How he would treat her when he was at work.

  She got what she wanted. That moment when he looked up, smiled, softened. Stopped talking just to watch her take those last few steps.

  Then he stepped forward to meet her. Wrapped an arm around her waist and gave her a soft kiss. “Did you come for me?”

  “Not on purpose, but I’m here now.”

  “I’ll be finished in a few minutes. Will you wait?”

  David’s worker looked on with interest. Eliza didn’t care. David didn’t seem to care, either, as he resumed their conversation.

  Eliza pointed to her right, and David nodded. She wandered off to find their lunch. The store had a huge, separate section with prepared foods and chefs waiting to cook to order. Eliza cruised through the various selections. Then froze when she heard the woman’s voice.

  “Salad without the croutons, raspberry non-fat on the side. Is your hair naturally red? You know we brunettes hate you.”

  Eliza whirled around. She was too shocked to try to hide. But Livia hadn’t seen her yet, and Eliza still had time. She ducked behind a stream of wandering shoppers and carefully made her way to the safety of a pillar. She watched while Livia finished her transaction, then carried her tray toward the store café.

  Eliza felt a hand on the small of her back.

  “Are you going to ask me?” David said. “I don’t have any secrets from you, Eliza.”

  “Then why is she still here?”

  * * *

  “We can’t just get rid of her,” David said once they were in the car. “Ted slept with her. It creates problems.”

  “You slept with her, too.”

  “Only once.”

  Eliza scoffed. “Come on.”

  David continued to look at her with the same calm, open expression.

  “You don’t really mean that,” she said.

  “I do.”

  “When?”

  “Last New Year’s Eve.”

  “But...you dated,” Eliza said. “You were still dating her when I met you—you took her to your mother’s Easter party.”

  “Livia is...persistent,” David said.

  “But...you took her to the lake house, too.”

  “Only because I knew you would be there,” David said. “When she suggested it, I agreed.”

  Eliza gave a small laugh, still not quite believing.

  “So, the whole time I’ve known you...”

  “Right.”

  “Never,” Eliza said.

  “Never.”

  She smiled. “I know this will sound strange to you, but that really, really matters.”

  “It doesn’t sound strange,” David said. “Why do you think I asked you about my brother and you?”

  The two of them sat in the car, looking at each other. Smiling.

  Then Eliza grew serious again. “So she’s going to keep working here?”

  “Not for long,” David said, “but for now. I don’t keep dishonest employees. Now, can we stop talking about work and move on to more important topics? How are you spending Christmas? Will you spend it with me?”

  42

  Eliza unwrapped her new quilt. It had a light blue background and navy blue and brick red squares. The red squares were made of velvet.

  “It’s beautiful, Hildy. Thank you.” She reached over and hugged her mother-in-law. Then she draped the quilt around herself to begin using it right away.

  She wanted to start living what she had written: Your life on its own is a special occasion. No more saving things for that day that might never come.

  There had been snow overnight, just a light fall of it, enough to coat everything outside as if frosting it for Christmas. Eliza made a path for Daisy in the backyard so the dog wouldn’t get so wet or cold.

  “Merry Christmas, lunatic,” Eliza told her. The dog ignored her and squatted.

  When they came back in, Eliza picked up the few wrappers Hildy’s and her gifts had left behind. For Eliza, there was just the quilt. For Hildy, a set of new cooking knives. They both agreed not to spend extravagantly, but just to keep things simple. Eliza preferred that—especially since she’d borrowed enough from her mother-in-law to take the place of gifts for the next twenty years.

  She and Jamey always kept Christmas small, too. From the beginning, they gave each other practical gifts: a new harness, backpacking gear, items of clothing either of them knew the other wanted but wouldn’t buy for themselves. There might be one special, surprise gift slipped in—a framed display from Eliza of the covers of Jamey’s books; the new laptop he’d given her on their last Christmas together—but generally they kept Christmas quiet.

  “What time are you going over?” Hildy asked.

  “Later this afternoon. He has to make the rounds with his family.”

  David had shown her the gifts he bought for his mother, sister, and nephews. “Nothing for Ted?” she asked.

  “We haven’t exchanged gifts since we were in high school.”

  “That must have made for Merry Christmases in the Walsh household,” she said.

  “My parents were happiest if the two of us didn’t speak to each other.”

  Eliza’s jaw had dropped a little. “Really? That bad?”

  David shrugged. “We were young.”

  Eliza thought of Ted at the lake house, pitching grapes into David’s lap and constantly trying to bait him. Not to mention sleeping with who he thought was his brother’s girlfriend. If that was the mature side of their relationship, Eliza could only imagine how it used to look.

  “You’re really not giving each other anything?” Hildy asked as Eliza loaded breakfast dishes into the dishwasher. “That seems strange.”

  “Why?” Eliza said. “We talked about it. We both agreed it’s too much pressure. We’re too new. We don’t really know what to get each other yet.”

  “Not even a sweater or a scarf?”

  “He has everything he needs,” Eliza said, “and so do I. I know it sounds corny, but all I wanted for Christmas was him. Nothing can top that.”

  “All right, but you’re starting out the new Christmas year in a pretty unfestive way,” Hildy said. “That means the rest of your year? No fest.”

  Eliza laughed. “No fest is fine. Just give me normal. You know that.”

  * * *

  David picked her up around four o’clock. The sky was already beginning to darken.

  “How did it go?” Eliza asked.

  “My sister’s was nice. My mother’s was...also nice.”

  “Do you like her?” Eliza dared to ask.

  “My mother? We all like our mothers.” David glanced sideways at her in the car and smiled. “Next question?”

  “Can we cook something together tonight?” Eliza asked. “I don’t want you to have to do it all.”

  “Don’t you like my cooking?”

  “You heard Hildy: You impress me. But I’m happy to share the work.”

  “It’s no work,” David answered. “Let me cook for you. I have something in mind.”

  While David made dinner, Eliza sat at his kitchen table idly discussing the day—what Sue and her family were doing over the holiday, Christmases past at the Walsh house, how Christmases had been in her own family—when suddenly Eliza noticed David squirting ketchup all over the food in the pan. She thought of Ted once saying David only liked things with ketchup. But this was something suspiciously familiar.

  Eliza sprang up and came to look. Then she laughed.

  “It isn’t.”

  “It is.”

  “How did you know?” she asked.

  “I called your mother.”

  “You called my—what?”

  “Hildy gave me her number.”

  “You called my mother,” Eliza said, “and asked her what my favorite dish was?”

  David kissed her. “Merry Christmas.” Then he went
back to preparing stuffed green peppers.

  On a hunch, Eliza opened his freezer. There in front was a pint of pralines and cream ice cream. She turned around, smiling. “You really are the best man.” She made him stop what he was doing to give him a proper kiss. “Thank you, David. This is the sweetest.”

  They dined on the couch, the way Eliza liked it best. She tucked her feet under her and ate forkfuls of the soft, tender pepper, hamburger and onions, ketchup and brown sugar on top. They didn’t bother with bowls, but shared ice cream out of the container.

  When she had cleared away all the dishes, Eliza came back to sit next to David. “I have a gift for you,” she said. “More of a story, really. Let me tell you what I’ve been doing the last few days.”

  She described her meeting with Frank Sawyer, telling him she was quitting her column. Told David about the book she had meant to write about Jamey, and about the money she’d sent back. “Hildy thought I should take care of it before the New Year,” Eliza said. “Start the year off fresh.”

  What she didn’t say was that her hand had shaken a little as she’d prepared the enclosure. She’d never written a personal check with that many zeros.

  “So what does all this mean?” David asked.

  “I’m moving on,” she answered. “I’m closing a chapter of my life. A long chapter, but now I want something else.”

  “Such as?”

  She kissed him. “You. And writing something different. I’ve had a novel in mind for a long time. I’ve just never been brave enough to start it.”

  “You feel brave now?”

  “I do,” Eliza said. “I think Hildy’s right: It’s good to start off a new year fresh.” She leaned back and stretched her arms behind her. “But this week I’m on vacation. I’m spending all my time in bed.”

  David’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yes?”

  “It’s something about winter here,” she said. “All I want to do is sleep.”

  “Oh,” he said, “sleep.”

  “And pre-sleep,” she added, climbing on top of him and pulling her shirt over her head.

  * * *

  In the morning, Eliza sat in bed drinking coffee, David’s head resting on her chest. He roused finally, rolled over to his bedside table, and removed something from the drawer.

  “Let me see something,” he said, reaching for her hand. Then without any ceremony, he slipped a ring onto Eliza’s finger.

  She stared at it. The round white diamond on a simple platinum setting.

  Then she looked at David. “That’s...it? You’re not going to say anything?”

  “I didn’t want to make you nervous.”

  “I’m not nervous.”

  “Will you marry me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Soon?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  Eliza gazed at the ring again. She tested it on her finger. “It fits perfectly. How did you do that?”

  “I measured your finger with a piece of string while you slept.”

  “When?” Eliza asked, laughing.

  “A few days after Thanksgiving.”

  “You’re very crafty, Walsh.”

  “Hope you don’t mind.”

  “Of course I don’t mind.” She leaned over to kiss him. “Everything about this is perfect.” Then she kissed him some more.

  Finally David got out of bed, pulled on flannel pants, and casually said, “I spoke to your mother.”

  “Did you ask for my hand?” Eliza asked, amused.

  “I did.”

  “What did she say?”

  “That if we’re getting married in the winter, she hopes it will be down there.”

  “Guess you’ll be seeing Henderson soon, then.”

  “Guess I will,” David said.

  Eliza climbed onto her hands and knees and tugged him back onto the bed with her. “David, how long have you been planning this?”

  “I told you. Since the day after the ice storm. As soon as you said you wanted me to love you forever. That was all I needed to hear.”

  For want of a nail, the shoe was lost; for want of a shoe, the horse was lost; for want of a horse, the battle was lost...

  For want of an ice storm, Eliza thought, this moment in her life might be lost. But not just the ice storm—so many pieces had to fall into place: Moving to Careyville with Hildy. Meeting David when she was twenty, and meeting him again now. All the twists and turns in both of their lives—including Daisy’s near-death experience—all leading to this moment on a bed in a sunny room with the man she loved beside her.

  “Mike is going to be my best man,” David said, getting up again. “I already asked him.”

  “When?”

  “At my mother’s Christmas party.”

  Eliza had a flash of David talking to his nephew that night while she talked to his sister.

  “You don’t mess around,” Eliza said.

  “No, I don’t.”

  She sat back against the pillows, watching him as he pulled on a warm shirt. This was what she wanted, she thought: this kind of domestic scene, just her husband and her enjoying a quiet morning together. No fanfare, no drama. Just two people who understood and loved each other, going about their day.

  “David?”

  “Hm?”

  “Why didn’t you give this to me yesterday?” Eliza asked. “On Christmas?”

  “We said no gifts.” He sat beside her and lifted her left hand. He kissed the finger that held the ring. “And I wanted you to know this isn’t just a gesture. It’s not because of Christmas, it’s how I feel about you every day.”

  Eliza looked into his eyes and smiled.

  “Thank you, Mr. Walsh.”

  “Thank you, future Mrs. Walsh.”

  “Next month too soon?” Eliza asked.

  “Not too soon for me.”

  Heart of Ice

  Bonus Preview

  Heart of Ice

  “It’s not too late.”

  Annie smiled. “I’m going.”

  Her cousin Shannon took another bite of airport hamburger and shook her head. “I can’t believe it. The first impulsive thing you do in your life, and you don’t even invite me along.”

  Annie stole a cluster of fries. “Well? Want to come?”

  “To the North Pole? No, thank you.”

  “It’s not the North Pole. It’s Iceland.”

  “Yeah, listen: Ice-land.”

  “It’s a trick,” Annie explained. “Greenland is ice, Iceland is green.”

  “I don’t care. You’ll freeze.”

  “The lowest it will be is forty degrees. I’ve got clothes for that.”

  “And not much else if that’s all you’re taking,” Shannon said, pointing to Annie’s single carry-on bag.

  “I don’t need much. I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

  “Forty degrees? That’s freezing for you. You hate the cold.”

  Annie shrugged.

  “What,” her cousin asked, “has gotten into you?”

  “I’m just going,” Annie answered. “I’m not going to worry about it.”

  Shannon shook her head. “I leave you alone for a week—”

  “See? That’s what happens when you go on vacation and don’t write.”

  “They don’t have e-mail in the woods.”

  “Your loss. I would have told you about it much sooner—yesterday, at least.”

  “Did you really just decide?” Shannon asked. “Just like that?”

  “Yep. I know—it’s not like me. Strange, huh?”

  Shannon eyed her cousin skeptically. “Is there more to this than I know?”

  “Like what?”

  “It’s the Mark thing, isn’t it?”

  “No, it’s not.”

  Shannon raised one eyebrow. “Oh, that’s right—I don’t know you.”

  Annie couldn’t help chuckling. Although she didn’t see her cousin often enough anymore, Shannon was still like a sister to her. They had both grown up as the only
girls in households full of boys. From the time they were infants until they graduated from high school they spent part of every summer together, a united front against their brothers, an exclusive two-girl club for sharing secrets and sympathy.

  When Annie’s mother died a few years ago, Shannon had taken the red-eye from Minneapolis to Phoenix, then rented a car and driven to Tucson, just to sit quietly by Annie’s side and listen to her cousin cry. When Shannon’s marriage had fallen into ruin, Annie flew up to help Shannon move to an apartment and rearrange the pieces of her life.

  They were both 31 now, both single again. They shared their mothers’ good looks: ivory skin, gray-green eyes, dark brown hair that Shannon kept in short, soft curls and Annie wore in a sleek page-boy cropped at the neck.

  “So,” Annie said, seizing control of the conversation, “did you have fun with...what’s his name?”

  “David. Fun, but not so fun.”

  “Not a camper, huh?”

  “Not in the least.”

  “But I’m sure he has other fine qualities.”

  Shannon chewed thoughtfully. “Some.”

  “Shan, do you really think taking a guy backpacking for a week is a fair test of his qualities as a boyfriend?”

  “Yes. How am I going to know if a man measures up unless I can see him make a campfire?”

  “That’s your brothers talking.”

  “But they have a point.”

  “So he failed the test, huh?” Annie asked.

  Shannon jutted out her thumb and flipped it over. “Cute, but inept.”

  “Out he goes?”

  “Out he goes.” Shannon sat back and surveyed the gathering crowd of passengers. “Look at all these people,” she whispered. “Iceland must be the land of the blonds. People are going to stare at you everywhere you go.”

  Annie scanned the ticketing area. It was true: Most of the people were fair-skinned and blond. “Good. Finally I’ll get to look exotic.”

  “What do they speak there?”

  “English. And Icelandic. And I think maybe Danish.”

  “What do you even know about this place?”