The Sport of Romance: A Multi-Author Box Set

by Cari Quinn

  “Guys, this is wonderful. I think I might cry.” He sniffs and pretends to wipe tears.

  Benjamin looks at him with concern. “Did you want something else, Uncle Blaine?”

  Blaine grabs both kids and pulls them into his lap. “Of course not, buddy. I was just being silly.” He kisses each one on their head and keeps them there.

  I hand Blaine a box wrapped in plain blue paper tied with a white bow. He lets Jenny pull the bow untied, and Benjamin tears off the paper. Blaine removes a headlamp. I can see he thinks this is an odd gift. Jenny reaches over and snaps it on and he puts it on his head. A flash of bright light temporarily blinds me as he turns his head back and forth, testing it out. “Awesome! Now I won’t hit anything on my way to the bathroom at night.”

  “You could use it for that. But there’s one more thing.” My stomach flutters anticipating his reaction.

  He takes out a snapshot of Peak 6. It’s exactly like one of Clara’s framed pictures. He looks at me and realization spreads across his face.

  Jenny says, “That’s where Mommy and Daddy got married.”

  Benjamin squeals. “Are you getting married?”

  We answer at the same time. “No.” “Maybe.” Maybe? Has he thought about where we’ll get married? “I’m taking Blaine camping on Peak 6, whenever he wants to go.” My heartbeat sounds in my head.

  Jenny clasps her hands, “Oh, goodie! Can we come too?”

  Blaine and I answer in unison again, but reversed. “Maybe.” “No.” Wait, why am I willing to let two small children come on a romantic camping trip?

  Benjamin looks up at Blaine and says in a serious voice, “You two are going to have to learn to compromise.”

  “Compromise? That’s a big word buddy.” He rubs Benjamin’s head.

  “I know, Uncle Blaine. It’s what Mommy says when Jenny and I don’t share.”

  Compromise. Blaine is right. That is a big word.

  * * *

  Blaine sits on the couch reading a book, using his headlamp as light. I have just come from Jenny’s bedroom. “I knew you would find multiple uses for that.”

  With a flick of the wall switch, he floods the room with light and snaps off the lamp. “That took longer than usual.”

  I plop down next to him with a leg tucked under me so I can see his face. “I know. We had to decide what color Jenny’s bridesmaids will wear. She wants to marry someone that bears a striking resemblance to you.” I reach up and trace the outline of his face with my finger. I think that’s not such a bad fantasy.

  He clasps my hand and brings it to his mouth. Kisses land on each finger. His eyes are dark and I start to smolder. The couch sinks as he climbs over me. Wrapping an arm around my waist, he guides me down on my back and I straighten out my leg. Placing himself on me, but with some weight on his arms, he kisses me, gently at first. Then he sucks my lower lip and gets more forceful. My mouth pulses with desire. Breaking away, he moves to my neck. A small whimper escapes my lips. Steamy breath whispers in my ear. “Playing house with you is nice. Stay tonight?”

  “I would like that. Very much, but I don’t think it’s appropriate.” My hand moves lower on his belly, and I run a finger under his waistband and feel warm skin.

  “We could sneak you out before the kids wake up, and then you could come right back for breakfast.” He nips at my earlobe. In the faintest of whispers he says, “C’mon, you know you want to.” The sensation of his breath makes me tingle.

  I do. Images of us in a bed play out in my mind. “I can’t.” I let out a big sigh. “It’s not right. I know you feel that way too.”

  He props himself up. “You’re right. It’s just…” He twists a curl around his finger. His voice gets husky. “I have plans for you, and I don’t want to wait.”

  Oh my goodness. I bite my lower lip. He lets out a throaty groan and crushes my mouth to his. Now I tremble. He raises my hands above my head and holds them at the wrists with one of his. The other slides under my shirt. I push my hips up at him and arch my back. This works for me in a big way.

  A tiny voice calls out, “Uncle Blaine?”

  He reluctantly breaks our kiss. “Coming.” Blaine stands up and adjusts his clothes. “Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.”

  I take a deep breath and collect myself. I can’t. As much as I want to, I can’t let this go further in a house with small children. I gather my things to leave.

  When Blaine returns, he looks at me with resignation. He knows I’m right. His body presses against me, and he brands me with his tongue. As I pull away to leave, he releases me slowly. Dragging his hand along my arm as I walk away, he catches my hand and holds it tight. I turn back.

  “Tomorrow night, my place.” He lightly sucks my index finger, and I just about drop to my knees. “Plan to stay.”

  In a shaky voice I reply, “Okay.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Up early, I’m headed for my run before breakfast with Blaine and the kids. I had sex dreams about Blaine last night and I couldn’t be happier. My nightstand rattles with the vibration of my phone. Usually I would ignore it until I come back, but today I don’t. It’s from Blaine. “Avalanche. Come quick”

  Adrenaline punches me into action and I grab my keys. All skiing employees at Breckenridge are trained in avalanche search and rescue. There’s an alert app to notify them when an avalanche rescue needs their assistance. Off-duty employees will come in to be the second or third sweep of an area if it’s not during regular hours. As I race over to Clara’s, it occurs to me there must be a full staff working right now to respond. Something else is happening here. And then it hits me. Peak 6. Oh God, please don’t let it be Peak 6.

  Gravel flies as Blaine pulls out before I come to a stop. This is bad. I go into the house with a forced calmness and hear cartoons playing on the TV. The kids are still in their jammies. “Hey guys.” They’re engrossed in the show and barely acknowledge me. Good, because I don’t know if I can keep it together. I head toward the kitchen to start breakfast. I can’t think straight. A piece of paper is on the kitchen counter. Numb fingers unfold the note that has my name on it.

  Casey, it’s Peak 6. I don’t know anything else. Will let you know when I can.

  Love, Blaine

  Oh, God. Oh. My. God. I crumple to the floor, holding the paper in my hand. Tears are on the brink of spilling out. Fleece scratches against my face as I swipe my sleeve across my eyes. No. I can’t cry in front of the kids. The floor is cold under my thin running pants. I take a deep breath and stand up to make breakfast.

  Frosty air hits me when I open the freezer for sausage. I hear the cardboard tear, and I dump them onto the stove. Crap. I need a pan. Metal clanks as I search for the right one. Frozen blocks of sausage clunk into it. I stare at them until the hiss breaks me free.

  I reach into the refrigerator for milk and eggs. Cold penetrates my hands and seeps into my veins. Yolks drop one by one into a bowl. One breaks and seeps around the others. I whip them up with a fork. I forgot milk. As it pours over the eggs, white envelopes the color and I stab the fork in to mix again.

  I lay two towels from the linen closet in front of the children and tell them it’s a picnic. Keeping my phone in my sports bra because I lack pockets, I nearly scream when it vibrates against my chest. Rushing into the kitchen, I read what Blaine wrote. “In snow cat. Clara is alive. She called it in. We’re looking for Tim.”

  Clara. She must have seen Tim be swept away. I can’t even imagine. Tears force their way down my face. I’m sure she’s a mess, and I can’t be with her. I text her.

  “I’m with J and B. Eating a breakfast picnic by TV. Blaine is with S&R. They’ll find him. I’m here for anything you need. All my love and prayers.”

  They will find Tim. Only he’ll most likely be dead. It’s next to impossible to survive an avalanche. The force uproots trees and takes out anything in its path. Similar to an undertow in the ocean, it rolls with fierce determination. The pummeling breaks bones and
rips tendons. The friction from the snow is so great that it melts. Once the avalanche stops, the huge mass becomes frozen like a glacier within seconds and traps its victims in a vice grip.

  Helplessness overwhelms me. There is nothing I can do but wait.

  It’s a long day. I make a game of cleaning the house, and when we’re done, it’s spotless. Clara’s refrigerator wasn’t this clean when it was brand new. She has no expired food, and her linens are organized by color. I find the dirty sheets she had taken off in preparation for Blaine. I put them back on the bed so she can sleep with the smell of Tim. I wonder how long the smell can last.

  I call Janet. She assures me Clara has a job whenever she wants to return and that she will stop by with a check in a few days. It makes me wonder how Clara will pay the bills. I know they live on a tight budget.

  It’s late in the afternoon when I get the text from Blaine. “We found him. I’m bringing Clara home.” My heart breaks. I look over at Jenny and Benjamin. Cartoon laughter plays as I think about how their world is about to be so different.

  They searched for hours. The search and rescue team knew who they were looking for. He was one of their own. Every member would have stayed out all night until they found him. I wonder if Clara saw Tim. New tears come. I’ve got to pull myself together. Both Blaine and Clara need me.

  The crunch of gravel announces their arrival. Jenny and Benjamin race to the door. “Mommy! Daddy!”

  Clara’s face is drawn and she looks tired and pale. Her greasy hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, as if exhausted hands did all they could. I smell the dried stench of her fear and the salty residue of adrenaline. She takes two steps through the door and drops to her knees. She pulls the children in with silent tears running down her cheeks.

  I step out onto the back deck to give her privacy. There is a small patch of snow left on the lawn and I walk to it. Tomorrow, it will be gone. Crocuses poke up in the garden. They should bloom in a week. How does life go on when yours is shattered?

  The sliding glass door scrapes against the metal frame, and I turn to Blaine. My arms open and he comes to me. He sobs uncontrollably. His weight is hard to support, and we sink to the ground. Cold, damp earth soaks my running tights. I don’t even bother to wipe my tears away. I watch them drip onto Blaine’s fleece. They bead up for a moment before being sucked into the fabric.

  Staring out toward the Continental Divide, I am blinded by the snow in the afternoon sun. Dropping my eyes, sunlight bounces off a snow bank of spring snow, corn snow. Like tiny bits of glass, kernels of ice glisten with the reflection of non-color.

  Blaine rolls away from me and lays his head on my lap. Looking up at me, he reaches a finger to wipe away a tear. In a raspy voice he says, “Casey, I can’t do this.”

  I touch my fingers to his mouth and say, “Shhh.” I shake my head, with nothing to say. Soft hair slides through my fingers as I comb his hair repeatedly in slow motion. He closes his eyes and fresh tears slip out.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  It’s been a month since Tim died. It’s my day off, and I persuade Clara to have lunch with me. Tara has made up a picnic basket for us, and I’m taking Clara to a park where you can’t see Peak 6.

  The gravel of her driveway crackles under my tires when I pull in. I know she’s seen me, and I wait in the car. Clara walks toward me with a smile on her face and a present in her hands. She’s thin but healthy. Fresh spring air surrounds her as she slides into the passenger seat. “Clara, you look beautiful today.”

  “Thank you, Casey. I have a little something for you.”

  “Why?” I take my hand off the gearshift.

  “It was your birthday last week, and I didn’t get a chance to celebrate with you. Here, open it.” She hands me a gift bag.

  Thin tissue rustles as I remove it. My fingers are caressed by soft mohair as I pull out a deep emerald-green scarf. I can tell it’s hand knit. “Did you make this?”

  “I sure did.” She has a smile on her face, and it warms my heart.

  I wrap the scarf around my neck and look at myself in the rearview mirror. “Oh, Clara, the color is perfect! Look what it does for my eyes.”

  “That’s why I picked it.”

  “Thank you.” I reach over to hug her. She kisses my cheek and places a whisper-soft hand on it as she pulls away. “Casey, my beautiful friend, do you have any Eagles on that iPod? Because I think we need some singing music.”

  I find the songs and crank it up. I pop open the sunroof, and a gentle breeze blows the stray hair around Clara’s face. We both put on our sunglasses, and I back out of her driveway. We head out of town toward Fairplay, singing our hearts out.

  Twenty minutes later, we’re at a small park. I have a camping-style folding table and two chairs we set up. Birds chirp and the musty odor of thawed, dead leaves is released with our movements. I put the picnic basket at our feet, and we pull out the contents. Grapes, plums, a variety of cheese, crackers, sliced meats, and sparkling water make up the lunch offerings with two oversized cookies for dessert.

  I spread Brie on two crackers and hand one to Clara. She takes a bite and savors the buttery cheese. With a full mouth, she says, “Oh, is that good.” Taking a sip of water, she clears her mouth.

  I say, “I’ve missed you.” Boy, have I. Cleaning without Clara is awful. My other partners hate the job too and do nothing to make it tolerable. But more importantly, I ache for Clara’s loss.

  I lean forward and take Clara’s hands. “How are you?”

  “I have good days and bad days. They say it gets better with time.” Her eyes fill and I release her hands. “I guess I’m waiting.” She pulls a tissue out of her pocket, and we sit in silence.

  She asks, “I was wondering if you would like to housesit for me this summer.” Sunlight plays with the red highlights of her hair.

  “Of course I will, but where are you going?”

  “I think the kids and I need to get out of Dodge for a bit. My parents moved to Arizona a few years ago. They live up in the mountains, and it’s beautiful there. We could go there for a month and then stay with Tim’s parents in California for the remainder.”

  “That sounds wonderful. You should go.” I slice a piece of pepperoni, and sadness cuts into my heart.

  “I’m thinking we will. I know both sets of grandparents miss us terribly. Losing Tim has made everyone want to be closer.” She dabs at her eyes with the tissue.

  “I’m so proud of you. You’re being so strong.”

  Her smile falters. “I have my moments. Honestly, it’s Jenny and Benjamin. They deserve to have a mom who’s happy and teaches them to enjoy life. It’s what Tim would have wanted. It’s what I would have wanted for Tim.” She sniffs and sits up tall. “I’m not going to cry. I think I’ve used up my allotment this month.” She lets out a weak laugh. “So what’s happening with you and Blaine?”

  “We’re kind of in a holding pattern right now.”

  “Why?” She nibbles at a cracker.

  I sigh, “He doesn’t want to be with me. I can’t put my finger on why, but I think he can’t enjoy anything right now. I’ve tried. I won’t push. He deserves all the space he needs to heal.” I pop a grape into my mouth and bite. Sweet and sour juice explodes.

  Clara says, “I kicked him off my couch last week. Do you know he’s slept there every night since Tim’s death? He thinks he needs to replace Tim.” She shakes her head. “I don’t want that. I’ll be fine. He forgets I was an independent woman with a mind of my own before I got married.” She puts a piece of prosciutto in her mouth.

  “I had my suspicions. Last week I let myself in to his apartment. It looked abandoned. I cleaned out his fridge, and the only things that were still good were condiments and a couple beers.”

  “Does he call you?” She sounds concerned.

  “No. I haven’t spoken to him in over a week.” I put a piece of cheese in my mouth.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I’ve been so…” S
he waves a hand. “Well, you know.”

  I reach over and touch her arm. “Don’t. You are in no way responsible for this. We’ll work it out. Everyone needs to grieve in their own way. Give it time.”

  “Okay. I can’t help but worry.” She sits back and bites into a plum. She lets a small moan escape. “Divine. I don’t know why everything tastes so good today. It must be the company. I’ve missed being with you.”

  “Can I come make dinner for you and the kids this week?” I don’t want to push, but I think she may be lonely and ready for a distraction.

  “We would love that.” Clara flashes a genuine smile. Then she sobers. “I’ll invite Blaine too. Maybe he’ll come.”

  Maybe. Or maybe not.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I know Blaine is grieving, but I decide it’s time to intervene. Instead of seduction, this time I’m going through his stomach. I have two subs, chips, soda, and cookies from his favorite deli. I know he isn’t working and I hope I catch him at home. He declined dinner at Clara’s and hasn’t answered a text or a phone call in two weeks. I’m beginning to get worried.

  Feeling a bit like a stalker, I go check his Jeep. The windshield appears dusty. How long does it take a car to get dusty inside? I have no idea and abandon any idea of joining CSI. I walk around to the front of his building and start up the steps to his door. My cowboy boots clunk on the concrete. I’m not exactly stealthy and decide I won’t make a good private investigator either.

  Maybe I’ll be a good predator? I think if he won’t answer calls and texts he won’t answer the door, either. I tiptoe up and press my ear against it. Cold metal chills my cheek. I can’t hear anything and wonder if I would if there was something to hear. This looks so much easier on TV.