by Susanne Beck
She nodded at me, eyes bright with compassion. Then she turned to look out the large window. "Very well, sweet Angel. It’s a beautiful day, even for winter. Let’s let death take care of itself while we embrace life, hmm?"
I couldn’t help grinning. "You’re on."
* * *
After the breakfast dishes were dried and put away, and we had showered and dressed, we decided—or rather Corinne decided; I was just along for the ride at this point—that a little sightseeing was in order.
Though the temperature outside was beyond bitter, the sun was out and the walks clear of ice and slush. Feeling just a touch of cabin fever myself, even so early in the season, I found myself not really minding the prospect of losing the feeling in my fingers and toes.
After donning layers of winter gear (and in this, Corinne came supremely prepared) we headed out into the cold and toward our first stop of the day, which was, of course, Ruby’s house.
I’d called her prior, asking if she was available to meet a friend of mine who was visiting for the holidays, and she invited us over happily, seemingly excited at the prospect of meeting someone new. I found myself smiling at her excitement, picturing a wonderful meeting between two women I held dear; two women who, because they were of an age, would have a great deal in common and just might become the best of friends.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
The beaming smile Ruby bestowed on us when she opened the door faded just a touch when her eyes took in the swaddled figure standing beside me. I could feel Corinne stiffen as Ruby backed away, inviting us in.
What the hell is going on here?
After setting our coats to warm and dry near the fire, we ventured into the kitchen, where Ruby bade us sit while she fixed coffee and a plate of fresh-made cookies that smelled heavenly and tasted even better.
After setting the mugs and plate down, she stood next to her chair, eyeing me expectantly, if a bit strangely. After a moment, I caught on, and gave her my brightest grin. "Ruby, I’d like you to meet a dear friend of mine, Corinne ... ." And there I trailed off, blindsided by my first major hurdle of the day.
Ruby, if you’ll remember, read the same paper I did. Introducing Corinne by her full name was inviting trouble I wasn’t prepared to deal with. My neighbor was still in the dark as to the true circumstances of my coming to Canada. And more than anything else, I wanted her to remain that way for as long as possible. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Ruby; far from it. It was just that the less information she had, the less, or so I hoped, she would be hurt in the long run.
Not that I was inviting that sort of trouble, mind you. But, in the words of the immortal Boy Scouts, it’s always best to be prepared.
I only wished I’d remembered that particular motto prior to setting out for Ruby’s house that morning.
Corinne, however, master politician that she was, covered my slight stumble as smooth as oil over lard, grasping Ruby’s outstretched hand and giving it a firm shake, her smile genuine as it could be. For those who didn’t know her as well as I did.
"Corinne LaPointe, at your service."
Ruby returned the handshake, and the smile. "Welcome to my home, Corinne. It is alright if I call you Corinne, isn’t it?"
"Only if you allow me the same pleasure."
I could see Ruby visibly relax as she released Corinne’s hand and sat down at the table with us. "Corinne it is, then," she said, toasting her with a mug of coffee. Her eyes gained a speculative look. "Tyler tells me you’ve known one another a good long while."
Damn. I’d forgotten that Ruby knew me as Tyler. I found myself sitting very still, not daring to turn my head even the slightest inch, lest I detect whatever expression was on Corinne’s face. An expression which I was sure would not be even one iota to my liking.
And, of course, I was right on that count.
My friend’s voice oozed charm and hidden laughter. "A good long while indeed, Ruby. Why, when I first saw her, I thought ‘Now there’s a girl who can turn the world on with her smile.’"
Dead silence.
Then an isolated chuckle, sounding much like the lone backfire of a car with a bad muffler.
Then another chuckle, followed by another, until both of my so-called friends were just about fainting with laughter at my expense.
I felt my head turn slowly to my right, my eyebrows contracting as I shot my nearly convulsive friend my darkest of looks. Corinne returned my look with a twinkling, mischievous one of her own and subtly mouthed ‘sorry’, before she turned back to Ruby and started the laughter train rolling down the tracks all over again.
But with that single gesture, I felt what anger I’d had drain away, realizing Corinne’s joke for what it was, a successful attempt to lighten the tense atmosphere and set a suspicious Ruby at ease. So I gave a few calculated grumbles for show, and patiently waited until the last of their laughter died out, leaving a much more comfortable silence in its wake.
Oh yes, Corrine was good. She was very good.
Then she proceeded to prove just how good she really was by continuing with a story she was weaving out of whole cloth as she went along. "Yes, Tyler and I have known one another for quite awhile, as she’s told you. I was a teacher in the school where she’d come after earning her degree. In fact, she took over my class as I was set to retire. The children fell in love with her the moment they saw her." She smiled again, this one most definitely genuine. "We all did. She was an Angel come to earth. A very needed brightness in an otherwise dark and sad world."
Ruby smiled slightly at that. "Ahh. So that’s where she got her charming nickname."
"Indeed it was. One of my students came up to us after I’d introduced her—you know how charming first-graders can be—and asked her if she was an angel." She grinned. "And from that moment on, she was known as Ms. Angel to everyone."
It was one of the few times in my life when I was actually glad of my ability to blush. Corinne was depending on my reactions to prove the veracity of her story, and I didn’t let her down, blushing for all I was worth.
Apparently charmed, Ruby smiled and visibly relaxed her ramrod straight posture, actually allowing her shoulders to touch the back of the chair upon which she was sitting.
Inwardly sighing with relief, I relaxed as well, letting myself become completely absorbed within the web Corinne was spinning. If I had held any lingering doubts about exactly what the woman’s capacity was for getting people to believe exactly what she wanted them to, they vanished into the mist on that sunny winter’s day.
Though that realization probably should have given me pause, and might have had I been any younger or more innocent in the ways of my friend, but instead it gave me a sort of guilty thrill, like the thrill a young child gets when she does something she knows she’s not supposed to, and gets away with it.
The rest of the afternoon passed quickly by, and at the end of it, goodbyes were made with more warmth than the hellos had been.
Still, for Corinne’s undeniable charm and Ruby’s gentle warmth, there seemed to be a barrier between them that didn’t show any signs of coming down. Puzzled by that, I mentioned it to Ice after Corinne was tucked safely away, dreaming whatever naughty little dreams that steel trap of a mind conjured up.
Ice had laughed and enfolded me in her warm embrace. "Sounds simple enough to me."
Pulling away slightly, I fixed her with a stare. "It does, huh? Care to share, oh Wise One?" Then I laughed and lowered my chin down until it rested in the sweet valley between her breasts. "Or shall I beat you senseless with my fists of steel."
Her eyes widened in mock horror before ruffling my hair and settling me more comfortably atop her. "They’re jealous."
"Jealous?! Of what?!"
"Each other. They’re playing a little game of tug-o-war and you just happen to be the rope."
I looked at her, disbelieving. "You wanna tell me how you came up with that one?"
Her lips pursed slightly as she shrug
ged. "Easy. They’re two women who fulfill much the same role in your life. Mother figure. Confidant. Comfort-giver. And they both know it." She shrugged again. "And if I had to guess, I’d say each one is afraid you’re going to become too close with the other and leave the remaining one out of your life altogether."
"That’s ridiculous!"
"Maybe. Doesn’t make it any less true for them, though."
I thought about that for a moment, quite unsettled. Then I looked up again. "There’s a flaw in your theory."
Her eyebrow raised. "Oh?"
I grinned. "Yup."
"And that might be ... ."
"You." Rolling off of her warm, strong body, I adopted my best ‘scholarly’ pose. "You see, my dear Ice, if one were to follow your theory through to its logical conclusion, whatever little jealousy they might have between themselves would be vastly overshadowed by the jealousy they would have for you. You are, after all, number one in my heart, among other places."
"Perhaps," she admitted, "though there’s a flaw in your theory."
I could feel my eyebrow rumple. "Yeah? What’s that?"
Her smile was slow and sexy. "I’m not exactly the mothering type."
Laughing, I rolled back on top of her, slipping a leg between her slightly spread thighs, pleased by her immediate, and wonderful, response. "Thank God for that," I said in a voice which was suspiciously husky. "I can’t imagine doing what we’ve been doing for the last two hours with my mother."
Chuckling softly, she melded our bodies together and proceeded to spend the next two hours reinforcing that idea.
And in that theory, there were no flaws at all.
* * *
If Corinne and Ruby rubbed against one another like two dogs going after the same bone—and I’d finally come to the realization that Ice was right on that score--, Corinne and Pop, when they first met, gave the impression of age-old friends reuniting after just a few moments apart.
I stood by and watched in open-mouthed awe as the normally reticent Pop actually spoke in complete sentences to Corinne, playing the part of the perfect gentleman and escorting her into his station for some coffee, which was always warming on the hotplate near the cash register.
"You’re gonna catch flies if you’re not careful," Ice said, materializing beside me and wiping her greasy hands off on an oil stained rag.
"I just can’t believe it," I replied, leaning easily into her warmth. "It’s like ...it’s like ...I don’t know what it’s like. I mean, I’d hoped they’d hit it off, but ...wow."
She grunted as she leaned against me, peering with narrowed eyes into the interior of the station. "He does seem quite taken with her."
"I’ll say. I don’t think I’ve seen him talk that long to anyone."
Tossing the rag back into the garage, Ice blew on her hands to warm them, then stuffed them deep into the pockets of her jacket. "Yeah, well don’t go planning the wedding just yet, Angel. Corinne’s still a little too taken with the ladies, and I don’t think Pop’s the type who likes to share." She turned to look at me, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "And I really don’t wanna have to hide the arsenic."
"Ice!"
The grin in her eyes made it to her lips, and she reached out to ruffle my hair. "Relax, Angel. It’s okay to joke about these things sometimes."
"I know, but ...Jesus! I swear, I don’t know what gets into you sometimes."
She responded by taking in a deep breath, then letting it out gustily. "Fresh air and sunshine, sweet Angel. Fresh air and sunshine."
And with that, she walked back into the garage, leaving me to stare after her, bemused and grinning all at the same time.
* * *
And then it was Christmas Eve.
Cold enough to freeze a crone’s anatomy in her brass brassier, the night sky shown bright with stars hanging so low it was almost as if I could reach up and grab one to keep.
Leaving Corinne to take over the kitchen (and it should be noted that the aforementioned was a demand of hers and not a request of ours) Ice and I set off in search of a Christmas tree.
Simply walking into town and purchasing one of the many which stood, like wooden soldiers, on vacant lots was out of the question, of course. No, we actually had to search for and find our very own tree, one grown especially for us, willing to give up its life to make our holiday more festive.
I suppose I shouldn’t sound so sarcastic about it, since it was my suggestion, after all.
Borrowing an old, but sturdy, nine-foot toboggan and a saw from Ruby, we walked into a section of the woods which had suffered, several years before, a lightening-spawned forest fire which had burned away much of the old growth and left room for new life to flourish.
After a great deal of critical fault-finding by me and a greater deal of eye rolling by Ice, we finally found the perfect tree; one that was lush, bursting with that wonderful evergreen color and scent, and large enough without being too large. Framing it from afar with my hands like some psychotic photographer trying for the perfect shot, I pictured it standing next to the fireplace, bedecked with garland and trinkets, with a plethora of gaily wrapped presents underneath, and promptly announced my approval.
"You’re sure," Ice replied, lifting the saw yet again and brandishing it in a way which let me know that if I wasn’t, I stood a good chance of being a good two feet shorter than I already was in the very near future.
"Positive," I announced with a nod of finality.
Something sounding suspiciously like "It’s about goddamn time" came floating back to me as Ice turned away and began to clear the snowpack from around the base of the tree I’d selected.
"Wait!" I interrupted just as she had put blade to bark.
"What now."
Saw blade and white teeth glittered in the light of a half moon, but I did my best to ignore them both as I walked one more time around the tree, viewing it from all possible angles save, of course, from above. "Just making sure."
More words, intelligible but quite unrepeatable, floated up from the base of the tree as I completed my appraisal. "Alright. Go for it. Just make sure you cut off those branches near the bottom there. They look like they’re dying."
"Are you sure you wouldn’t like to do this your self, my dear?" came a silken purr. "After all, I wouldn’t want to ruin your perfect tree with my ineffective bumbling."
"Oh no," I replied airily, waving off her sarcasm-laced concern. "You can do it. I know how much you love working up a sweat."
Before I could even think to move, I was lifted in strong arms and tossed a good distance to land in a deep pile of snow. Laughing and sputtering and trying to dig mounds of the cold, wet stuff out of places it had no business being, I watched as the tree I’d picked finally surrendered to the might of my lover’s sharp saw and strong muscles. By the time I’d regained my footing, both saw and tree were safely stored aboard the toboggan and Ice was looking down at me, an incurably smug expression on her face.
Did I mention something about paybacks?
* * *
The gathering we’d arranged was in full swing by the time we arrived back at the cabin, tree in tow. Laughter and the muted tones of Christmas carols could be heard just outside the door. The porch windows were fogged from the warmth within and I could see surreal shapes seemingly float in and out of the mist on the other side of the glass.
Then the door opened and John Drew, Tom’s brother, came out to greet us, bedecked in a festive, if rather pornographic, holiday sweater. After enduring good-natured teasing over my need to assess ‘every damn tree in the whole damn country’, we finally went inside, the three of us carrying the tree over the threshold and into the living-room, where Ice had built a stand for it.
After the tree was up and suitably ‘ooh-ed’ and ‘ahh-ed’ over, we began to decorate it with the popcorn and cranberries Corinne had supplied.
Or, should I say, we tried to decorate it. Attempting to thread a tiny needle through a tinier cranberry while und
er the influence of a couple of cups of Corinne’s one-hundred-eighty proof eggnog became an exercise in futility rather quickly.
Ruby, whose blood-pressure medication forbade more than one cup of the stuff, primly took over threading duty while the rest of us, save Ice who’s never been much for imbibing, became progressively giddier.
Then Corinne set out a feast fit for royalty and we all followed our noses and grumbling bellies to the table like children after a day of hard play. Ice sat at one end of the table, Corinne at the other, and our guests—Pop, Ruby, the Drew brothers and their wives, and a smattering of others who we’d become friendly with—interspersed in between. It wouldn’t be stretching the truth any to say that that Christmas Eve dinner was the best I’ve ever eaten, before or since. Corinne is an outstanding cook, and forty five years in prison hadn’t diminished her talent one bit, for which we were all profoundly grateful.
Pleasantly stuffed and more than half-drunk, we finished decorating the tree while Ice and Corinne, over my staunch, if slightly slurred, objections, set about cleaning the mound of dirty dishes we’d left behind.
The evening passed slowly, as wonderful evenings sometimes will, in a warm and friendly haze that I’d often dreamed about as a child when Christmas Eve seemed to be nothing more than simply another day in my life.
As it drew to a close, Ice appointed herself the task of making sure all of our guests found their way safely home. Corinne and I stayed behind to tidy up what little mess there was, and then she went off to the comfort of her own bed while I stayed awake, awaiting my lover’s return.
I was feeling many things during that short wait, but pain definitely wasn’t one of them. Corinne’s eggnog could have loosened the limbs of a marble statue.
Ice returned quietly as I was staring into the flames of the fire, fascinated, in my gently drunken way, by the myriad of colors displayed. I wobbled over to greet her and she held me tightly, then kissed me in front of the tree it had taken so long for us to find.
