“Hey, I better take off. I didn’t tell anyone where I was going. They’ll be worried.” Pam drained her glass.
Edie nodded. Was it a huge leap to think the wink was meant to keep Edie in the dark about something? She could understand Lynn having another life. What bothered her was Lynn not trusting her enough to tell her. In the next moment she realized that she no longer loved Lynn in a physical way, but she did love her as a best friend. A best friend doesn’t lie to her best friend.
After the front door closed, she said, “Tell me what that was about, Lynn.”
Lynn looked down. “Nothing.”
Edie’s chest hurt. That was the problem with knowing someone so well. You caught all the nuances. “Don’t play me for a fool, Lynn.”
“I strayed a little.” Lynn met her eyes. A worried frown was etched between her brows.
“You sound like one of those philandering politicians. It’s okay, Lynn. Just don’t lie to me, please.”
“Her name is Frankie. I met her at a meeting. We talked for hours.” Lynn drained her glass. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Just give me some time to digest this. You better go.”
Lynn hesitated, but Edie thought she looked relieved. “You’re my best friend.”
“I still am your friend, but I want to be alone now.”
After Lynn left, Edie remembered how she’d been bursting to tell someone about the deer that had crossed her path, brushing against her as they went. Now there was no one to tell. She got up slowly. Her muscles ached.
She took a shower and stared at her naked body in the full-length mirror. It was a nice body, even if it showed her age in small ways—graying pubic hair, slightly drooping breasts. She pulled an oversized T-shirt over her head and turned off the lights on her way to bed. She picked up the book she was reading, Infidel, about an amazing woman from another world, and fell asleep in the middle of a paragraph.
She wanted to avoid Lynn till she could look her in the eye and feel okay about it. When the phone rang early Saturday morning and Lynn’s name and number appeared on the display, she let the call go into her message box. She needed time and space. Not even the book and its upcoming deadline could keep her home. She decided to head to Minocqua and hit the ski trails.
She was loading up her car, sliding the ski bag crossways from front to back, when a VW Jetta drove up. Pam got out of the car. Her jacket was open and her hands were stuffed into her pockets. “I just came to say goodbye. I guess you’re going somewhere too.”
Edie put a small cooler in with her backpack. “Skiing,” she said.
“Wish I could join you. Actually, I am going skiing with a friend as soon as I get back.”
“Good,” she said. “See you next time.” As Pam got back in the Jetta, Edie lowered herself into the Focus and backed out of the driveway. She followed Pam’s VW out of the neighborhood and turned north on Interstate 39.
She was lucky to get a small room at the Concord Inn, a Best Western across the road from Lake Minocqua, where snowmobiles were zipping across the ice. She skied at Winter Park the first day, using her skate skis on the wide trails. Up and down, up and down without stopping. She wanted to be so tired at night that she would drop into sleep. The sky was clear and whenever the sun penetrated the trees, it was blinding. Her strong legs carried her till closing time, and during those hours she thought of nothing that she could remember. She picked up a sub sandwich and took it to her room. Opening a small bottle of Sutter’s cabernet, she washed down the sandwich and watched the news. Afterwards she took a shower and went to bed with her book.
The next morning she drank coffee and toasted a bagel in the motel’s lounge before driving over snowy roads to the American Legion State Forest. The parking lot was empty, and she waxed her diagonal skis before heading off on the trail. She hardly noticed the cold. She’d be hot once she started to move. There would be no skate skiers on these trails. The tracked paths were narrow and steep. They twisted through the forest, sometimes widening at a sharp turn at the bottom of a hill.
She was more than halfway through the one-way trails when she stopped at a three-sided shelter. A fire, contained by rocks, burned in front of the shed. A pile of split wood was stacked nearby. Feeders, placed near the edges of the opening, hosted small birds. Chickadees and nuthatches and goldfinches sparred over toeholds, while juncos ate on the snowy ground. Two women joined her in the clearing as she leaned on her poles, captivated by the chattering birds flitting to and from the feeders. Yesterday’s skate skiing was catching up with her. Her hips ached, her thighs and calves burned.
One of the women pulled off her knit cap, and Edie recognized Pam. The red-cheeked woman accompanying her did the same.
Transfixed by the sight of the woman’s hair, electric in the brittle cold, Edie stared for a moment. It was a shiny chestnut color and fell in waves almost to her shoulders. She was squinting, one gloved hand shading her eyes as she watched two chickadees fight over a perch. She seemed unaware that Edie was in the clearing too.
“Claire Bouveau, this is Edie Carpenter.”
Claire turned a green-eyed gaze on Edie. “Hello, Edie. Are you the reason we couldn’t pause to catch a breath of air?”
Edie touched her own face, wondering if her cheeks were as rosy. Her curiosity was piqued. “Hello,” she said, smiling. She bent over and put a log on the fire, and heat flared into her face.
“I always ski fast.” Pam grinned at Edie. “Are you alone? That’s not a good thing.”
“I ski alone all the time.” She always liked the sound of her skis on the snow and the nuthatches muttering in the trees and occasionally she saw deer in the woods. Once she came upon a porcupine crossing the trail.
“I’m getting cold,” Claire said. “I have to keep moving.”
“Want to have dinner with us? We’re going to Jacobi’s. They have the finest dining around.”
Edie knew that. She glanced from Claire to Pam. “What time?”
“Six thirty okay? We’ll pick you up. Where are you staying?” Pam asked.
Edie told her. “I’ll be in the lobby.”
She let the other two get a good head start before pushing off. When she reached the parking lot, Claire and Pam were loading their skis into a Ford Escape. Pam waved. Edie scraped the snow from her skis, put them in their case with the poles and fitted it crossways in the Focus. As she drove to another trailhead, she washed a peanut butter sandwich down with half frozen water.
At the end of the day, she was tired and sorry she’d agreed to go out for dinner. But a hot shower revived her, and she dressed in jeans and a turtleneck. She’d brought no good clothes with her, intending only to eat in her room.
After blowing her short hair dry so it wouldn’t freeze, she went out to the lobby. The local news was on the TV and she watched while she waited. A big snowstorm was coming their way. She thought she’d rather be snowed in at home where she could ski out the back door.
Pam appeared in the lobby, her hair comically askew. The tips were frozen and glinted under the lights. Edie got up and pulled her jacket on. Outside, Claire was sitting behind the wheel of the Escape when Edie climbed into the backseat.
“What a coincidence, huh, running into each other on the trail?” Pam said.
“You never know who you’re going to see where,” Edie said agreeably. She felt sleepy.
“I should have known Lynn was the one you were taking notes for at that meeting.”
Edie said nothing in response. Lynn was a political animal, and one Edie would rather not talk about right now. The wound was fresh.
“Lynn is the kind of person we need right now. She gets things done.”
“Yes,” she said, looking out the window at the snowy night. Of course, there was no way Pam would know that they’d been much more than friends.
Pam seemed to catch the drift and changed directions. “We’re going to Winter Park tomorrow. How about you?”
“A big storm is co
ming. I think I’ll head for home in the morning.”
“She can ski right out of her backyard,” Pam told Claire, who had yet to say anything besides hello.
“Really.” Claire’s attention zoomed in on Edie in the rearview mirror. “How lucky you are. I used to live in Point.”
“When was that?” Edie asked, meeting her eyes in the glass.
“When I was married. I moved to Madison after the divorce. We both left. My husband taught at UW-Stevens Point those few years.”
She couldn’t remember a Dr. Bouveau, but why would she?
Claire seemed positively chatty now. “Stephen taught anything French—French language, French literature. He wasn’t there long enough to get tenure. He moved back to France. I liked Point.”
Edie asked her what she did.
“I’m a librarian at one of the branches. I took a couple days off.” She smiled at Edie in the mirror. It transformed her, making her disarmingly attractive.
“Edie writes books,” Pam said. “Tell me where I can find them. I want to read one.”
Edie looked out her window. “Almost anywhere. I write as Lauren James.”
“Why is that?” Pam asked.
“Because everyone who writes for this publisher uses another name.”
“What else do you do?” Claire asked, meeting Edie’s eyes in the rearview mirror.
“I used to manage a bookstore in Madison, but that was years ago.” She was not offended by the question. She was well aware that most people didn’t make a living wage writing books. She’d never get rich writing for Horizon, but she made enough to get by.
Claire parked in front of Jacobi’s, which was tucked off the Interstate, and they went inside. The hostess showed them to a table for four in the corner. She took drink orders and handed them menus.
When the waitress left, Edie asked, “Are you active in ERFA, too?” She was trying to figure out the connection between Pam and Claire.
Claire shrugged. “Not like Pam. I go to meetings occasionally.” Claire raised a thin eyebrow and smiled. Edie was enchanted.
Edie looked around the room and saw Jennifer Gottschalk, who got up from her table and walked over.
“Hey, how did I miss you on the trails?” Jennifer smiled down at them. She was tall and well muscled. Her hair was more reddish than brown, chin length and wavy. She worked as a pharmacist in Wausau.
Edie introduced her to the others. “I was at Winter Park yesterday and the American Legion today.”
“Ah, that’s why. I went to Winter Park today and the American Legion yesterday. I wish I’d known.” Jennifer’s eyes glowed. “I would have had someone to ski the expert trails with. Where are you going tomorrow?”
“Standing Rock,” Edie said. “I want to get home before the storm hits.”
“Next time maybe we can go together. The Birkie is coming up. Got something I can write on?”
They exchanged e-mails, and Jennifer said, “I don’t know why we didn’t do this before.”
When Jennifer returned to her table, Pam said, “Wow. She’s an Amazon.”
Edie smiled. “She’s no bigger than I am. She’s a great skier.”
When they dropped Edie off in the hotel parking lot, she looked at the stars clustered in a clear sky, took a deep breath and her nostrils froze together. Across the road several snowmobiles zoomed to life and sped across the lake. The snow squeaked under her feet as she walked toward the hotel door.
When she was lying in bed, trying to stay awake long enough to come to a stopping point in her book, her cell buzzed. She looked at the display, sure that it was Lynn calling and saw it was Jamie instead.
“Auntie,” he said across the empty air, “do you think Sam and I could transfer to UWSP and live with you?”
“Why would you want to do that?” she said, coming instantly awake.
“Things aren’t going so good here. My roommate’s girlfriend has moved in and Nita, Sam’s roommate, brought a girl home after work.”
“Oh.” She flashed back to her college roommate on whom she’d had a hopeless crush. How would she have survived if her roommate had brought her boyfriend into their living space? “This is not a decision to make lightly or without your parents’ consent. You’re not really serious, are you?”
“I can’t sleep or study when they’re going at it, and Sam is desolate. The girl stays overnight.”
She was so glad she wasn’t young and helpless to control her environment. “Can’t you go to the hall advisor?”
“And be a snitch? He’s a jerk anyway.”
“Where are you?”
“We’re in my room. Nate and Betsy, the bitch, aren’t here right now. Sam doesn’t want to go back to her place.”
She glanced at her watch. It was after ten.
“Do you want to talk to Sam? She admires you.”
Not really. She wanted to go to sleep, and forget these problems that had been forced on her. “Well, that’s nice, but…”
“Sam, Edie wants to talk to you.”
“Jamie, I’m in Minocqua. There’s nothing I can do…”
“Hi,” Sam said. The one word sounded so forlorn that Edie wished she knew what to say to make everything better. Sam took a breath that became a sob. She’d obviously been crying.
“Have you got another place to stay, Sam?” Edie asked.
“No.” Said just as forlornly.
She experienced a twinge of anger at Nita’s thoughtlessness. “Sweetie, maybe Jamie could move in with you for a while?” She was thinking if Jamie were there, he could act as a buffer between Sam and Nita and her girlfriend.
“She wouldn’t let Jamie share an apartment with us.”
“Well, she has someone there now, so how can she say no if you have someone? It would also give Jamie a place to stay other than with his roommate and girlfriend.”
“Okay,” Sam said, just as sadly.
“Sam?”
“Yes.”
“This too will pass. Trust me. I know it hurts.” How astute, she thought dryly, but nothing more original came to her. “There should be someone you can talk to at the university. They offer counseling services.”
“I want to talk to Julie.”
“Julie?” She vaguely remembered Jamie talking about how Sam was looking for Julie, but she was tired. She wanted to sleep.
“My therapist, Dr. Julie Decker. She sort of disappeared.”
“I remember. Have you looked for her on the web?”
“Yes. She’s not there.”
“Keep looking. One of these days she’ll turn up, that is if she’s still working.” She didn’t know if she would turn up, of course, but it was likely.
Sam said, “Okay,” in the same sad voice.
Jamie came on the phone. “Can you come here, Aunt Edie, and help us out?”
“What do you want me to do, Jamie? You don’t change schools because your roommate is sleeping with someone. Get her out of there or go stay with Sam. Sam needs someone to give her moral support. Sleep at her apartment tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow night.”
“Thanks, Auntie. Sam says thanks, too.”
She slept in the next morning. Snow was falling heavily. She packed up, wishing she’d left the night before, and checked out.
The highway was covered with the white stuff. Traffic was moving at fifty miles per hour or less. Passing was hazardous. She got stuck behind two snowplows that crossed the southbound lanes, effectively blocking everything. Claire drifted into her thoughts as she chafed at the slow pace, but by the time she reached Point, she was thinking about the book and what changes she should make.
She stopped at Copps to buy groceries and headed for home where she fired up the snowblower and blew the driveway. The world was white and muffled, buried under at least six inches of fresh snow. She loved it. It could snow till April as far as she was concerned.
Inside, she listened to her messages—two from Lynn asking her to call and one from Jamie. He said, “We
did what you told us to do, Auntie. There are four of us crowded into Sam’s teeny apartment. I have to sleep on the lumpy couch. Turn on your cell. I need advice.”
She took her bag to her room, turned on her cell and flopped on the bed to phone Jamie. His cell rolled to voice mail and she left a message. An hour later the vibrating phone woke her. It was loosely clasped in one outstretched hand. Samantha Thompson appeared in the display. “Hi, Sam. What’s up?”
“Remember the guy with the truck? Well, he found Jamie alone and beat him up. He went to UHS, but his nose won’t stop bleeding. I think it’s broken, and Nita wants him out of here, and his parents are in Mexico.”
“Let me talk to him, Sam.” She waited until Jamie came on. “I hear you got into a fight, nephew.”
“I was massacred.” He sounded nasally.
“Do you have cotton up your nose?”
“That and blood. Listen, it’s not good here. Nita thinks I’m trouble. She wants me out. My roommate’s girlfriend has moved in.”
“Well, she can’t do that.”
“You tell her and Nate that. I can’t take another beating.”
She sighed. “Look, I just got back from Minocqua. Can you wait till Friday? Give me Sam’s address.”
She was asleep when Lynn walked in.
“Since you wouldn’t answer my phone calls, you forced me to come here.” She lay on the bed next to Edie and looked at her out of dark oval eyes.
Edie’s anger had cooled, and her hurt feelings had healed.
“I apologize,” Lynn said as they stared at the ceiling. “I should have told you, but would you have told me? What if you had a thing for Pam? Would you admit it?”
She laughed. “Don’t try to turn the tide, Lynn.” For some reason she thought of Claire.
“I don’t have an excuse. It just sort of happened.”
Edie wanted to talk to Lynn about Jamie. Losing Lynn as a friend was not an option.
Lynn started to get up. “Do you want me to go?”
“No. Tell me about Frankie and I’ll tell you about Jamie.”
Lynn flopped back down. “You’d like Frankie. She’s a political animal.”
Looking for Julie Page 4
