Catching Air (27 page)

Chapter Twenty-five

THE WEDDING WAS ONE
day away. Twenty-four hours! And everything was going wrong.

The huge tent that was supposed to arrive by noon and give them plenty of time to arrange the tables, chairs, bar, dance floor, and heaters had been “delayed” by the weather.
Delayed
—a slippery, disturbingly ambiguous word.

“So does that mean it’ll be here this afternoon?” Kira had asked the nervous-sounding guy who’d phoned to deliver the news.

Silence.

“Tonight? Please don’t tell me it’ll be later than tonight.”

Already they’d had to tweak their original plan of setting up the tent on the lawn. With the heaters and the weight of a hundred guests, it would sink into the snow, potentially suffocating their guests while simultaneously electrocuting them. Jessica wouldn’t approve (unless she wanted to punish them for talking during the toasts). So now the tent would be placed atop their big paved parking area, which wasn’t the classiest option, but what else could they do?

“We have no control over the weather,” the tent rental guy was saying, which, ironically, was exactly what Kira had said when she’d told Jessica about the tent placement. “We’re doing our best. We’ll get it there as soon as we can.”

Her phone had rung again seconds after she’d hung up on that call.

“Kira!” Jessica’s voice was a shrill squeak of a teakettle emitting steam. “My grandfather and grandmother were supposed to drive in from Connecticut today but they can’t because it isn’t safe for them to drive with the snow and I don’t know what to do. We can’t have the wedding without them!”

Kira was concocting her third giant bowl of marinade for the salmon. She’d gotten up at 5:00
A.M.
to make the stuffing for the figs, and she had a dozen butternut squashes rolling around on the countertop, waiting to be peeled and cubed and roasted and turned into spoonfuls of soup.

“Your grandparents,” Kira repeated dully. She was squeezing limes into the marinade, and the acidic juice was stinging a tiny cut near her knuckle. Jessica’s grandparents were two of the more complicated pasta primavera entrées, so Kira wasn’t inclined to like them much at this point.
Stay home!
she wanted to shout at them.

“So . . . what would you like me to do?” Kira asked, struggling to keep an edge out of her tone. She half-expected Jessica to ask her to go pick them up.

“I don’t know!” Jessica squealed. “My dad’s trying to book them a flight instead, and then they’ll drive to the wedding with him.”

“So it sounds like it’s all under control,” Kira said slowly, trying to remember to breathe. She was Jessica’s therapist now, too, which surely justified adding twenty percent to the bill.

“I guess so,” Jessica said. “Ooh, Scottie’s calling on the other line. Gotta run! I’ll call you back!”

“Can’t wait,” Kira said into the dead receiver.

Private snowplows. She still needed to find someone with a private plow to make sure their road and driveway were constantly cleared. How could the sky contain so much snow? She finished squeezing the limes and rinsed her red, raw hands under warm tap water.

She looked over at Peter, who was on his computer, trying to book a shuttle bus to ferry guests from the bottom of the hill up to the B-and-B, since all the parking spots would be taken up by the tent and guests would have to leave their cars parallel-parked on the road.

“Any luck yet?” she whispered, and he shook his head.

She finished adding crushed ginger and lime to the three giant bowls and covered them with Saran Wrap. She stole a glance out the window: Thick, wet flurries were coming down as steadily as ever. It wasn’t a record-setting storm, but to a warm-weather girl like herself, the sight of that relentless white was intimidating.

“I finished slicing the veggies for the pasta primavera,” Dawn said, coming in from the dining room. “But some of the asparagus was turning brown . . . I don’t think it’ll be good tomorrow even if we keep it in the crisper.”

“Let me see.” Kira hurried out to the dining room. Dawn had used two big wooden cutting boards to protect the table as she sliced yellow and orange bell peppers and cherry tomatoes. Dawn was right—the undersides of about half of the spears of asparagus were turning soft and brown.

“Should we leave it out?” Dawn suggested.

Kira shook her head. It was the only green vegetable in the mix, and the topping would seem sparse without it. “I can run into town and get some more.”

One more thing on her list.

Rand came inside from clearing off the parking area for the second time that day. He took off his gloves, stomped his snowy boots on the mat just inside the front door, and blew on his hands.

“It’s a bitch out there,” he said. “How many heaters do we have again?”

“A dozen,” Kira responded. “The tent people assured me it would be enough. They better be right.”

The phone rang again, and Kira stared at it warily. The phone didn’t have a record of carrying good news today. Perhaps Jessica had chipped a nail and needed Kira to FedEx over a file.

Peter looked at her expression, then said, “I’ll get it.” He answered the phone while Kira walked back into the kitchen. What next? The soup. She reached for a squash and sliced it in half, fighting to work her knife through the hard shell of the vegetable.

“Peter?” she asked as he came back into the room. “Who was it?”

He walked over to the charger and set the cordless phone back down.

“The salmon supplier,” he said. “They’re not going to make it.”

Kira gasped. “No,” she said. “That’s impossible! They were going to deliver a hundred fillets today! Did you tell them they had to do it?”

“Yes,” Peter said. “But it’s not just us. They had to cancel all the deliveries to our area. There was an accident with the truck. Everything spoiled.”

“Call them back!” Kira said. “That isn’t acceptable!”

Her mind whirled. A wedding without a main course at dinner? Maybe they could scrap the appetizers and change the service to a buffet, or just give everyone heavy hors d’oeuvres, but either way Jessica would be fully justified in refusing to pay. The sit-down dinner was the centerpiece of the event!

“Should we phone around to restaurants in town?” Dawn suggested. “I bet some of them have frozen fillets. If we can gather enough, we can still do it.”

“Okay,” Kira said. “Try.”

Dawn grabbed the phone book and began flipping through the yellow pages.

“Shit!” Kira snatched up a paper towel and wrapped it around her index finger.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked.

“I cut myself,” she said. Her finger throbbed, and spots of red appeared through the wad of paper toweling. She’d been sloppy, thinking about too many things at once, and the knife had slipped. “Shit, shit, shit!”

“Look, you gotta calm down,” Rand said. “So there’s no salmon. Everyone can eat pasta, right?”

“That wasn’t in the agreement!” Kira said. “Jessica wants salmon!”

“It’s a dinner,” Rand said. “One meal.”

“A dinner that’s going to save us all financially,” Kira pointed out.

“Whatever,” Rand said, lifting his hands up in surrender.

“Lay off,” Peter said, looking at his brother. “Can’t you tell she’s stressed?”

Kira felt dizzy. Maybe she needed something to eat. Who had time to eat? Peter had been ignoring her for days, but at least he’d defended her to his brother.
Don’t let them start fighting again
, she thought.

“I’m going to check on Lyss.” Rand started to walk out of the room just as a loud crack sounded from somewhere outside. The lights flickered once, then twice.

Everyone froze.

“What was that?” Kira asked. She noticed Dawn clutching the countertop and gasping.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked.

Dawn nodded. “It just startled me,” she said. She peered through the window.

“It was a branch,” Rand said, coming back into the kitchen. “The snow’s heavy and it cracked under the weight. I’ll go see if I can clear it away.”

“Ouch,” Kira said. She peeled away the paper towel and found a Band-Aid and some Neosporin in a cupboard above the dishwasher. The cut didn’t seem deep enough to need stitches, but it throbbed.

The soup. She needed to prepare the soup. She’d slept poorly last night, waking at 1:00
A.M.
and then again at 4:00 imagining a crate of champagne glasses crashing to the floor, the minister failing to show up, Jessica’s ring getting lost . . . So many things could go wrong at weddings. And something always did.

Her head felt fuzzy, and her throat was a little sore. She hoped she wasn’t coming down with a bug.

The lights flickered again, then went out.

Come back on,
Kira prayed.
Please.
But nothing happened. Outside, clouds were snuffing out the sun, so even though it was early afternoon, the room was dim and gray.

The little digital clock on the stove was blank. Kira walked over to the toaster and depressed the switch, but it popped back up. So it wasn’t just a blown fuse. The power was out.

The front door slammed, and Rand’s voice rang out: “The branch that fell got tangled up with the power line. I can’t move it.”

Could this actually be happening? Their refrigerator contained hundreds of dollars’ worth of cheeses, and fillings for the tarts, and raspberries, and fig spread, and heavy cream for the soup . . . her entire meal would be destroyed if the power stayed off.

Kira fell onto a stool and put her head in her hands, trying not to hyperventilate. Jessica’s father would be furious. He might even sue them.

You know how daddies are about their little girls
, Jessica had said.

Why hadn’t her father come to her wedding? Kira felt a pain pierce the center of her chest and spread outward, growing until it seemed to consume her.

Maybe it wasn’t because he wanted to avoid her mother, as Kira had told herself. Maybe the truth was that he’d long ago replaced Kira with his stepdaughter. She tried to rub away the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks, but there must’ve been some lime juice left on her hands, because her eyes began to burn.

Her cell phone buzzed on the counter. She started, realizing she was falling behind schedule. She needed to preheat the oven, and cube the squash, and find some asparagus . . . But she couldn’t preheat the oven, not without electricity. Her tears were coming harder now, but no one noticed.

“Why aren’t there any shuttle buses available for rent in the state of Vermont?” Peter was saying in an exasperated tone.

Her husband was barely speaking to her. She’d have to refund the deposit for the wedding if she didn’t uphold the terms of the contract. Even if Jessica’s father didn’t sue, they’d end up losing money if they had to eat the cost of the alcohol and food. All these months in Vermont would be a complete waste, just like her time at the law firm. She’d embarked upon two careers, and failed spectacularly at both. And to think she’d once expected to do great things.

Dawn’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Should I call the electric company on a cell phone? They’re probably used to outages here all the time because of the weather . . . Kira? Do you want me to call?”

Dawn. She’d escaped from her own life when things got rough, with no plan or agenda or support, Kira thought.

“Was it hard?” Kira asked, keeping her head low.

“Sorry?” Dawn said. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Her phone buzzed again. It must be Jessica. Jessica’s father wanted a special dance with his daughter. He was paying for Cristal champagne to toast her. Only the best for his little girl.
There could never be a father who loved his daughter more than I love you
, Paul Simon would sing. Kira wondered what song would play while her father danced with his stepdaughter.

She’d lost her father long ago, and now she knew she was losing the only other man she’d truly loved. Peter was across the room, frowning at his computer. Ignoring her again.

“Do you want me to get it?” Dawn asked, motioning to the phone.

“No,” Kira said, avoiding Dawn’s gaze. If Peter would only look up at her, acknowledge her in some way . . .

“I need to . . . go . . . ,” Kira whispered.

She walked to the hall closet and put on her coat and hat, then reached for her purse, her movements slow and precise. Her keys and wallet were inside her purse, and her boots were by the front door. She slid them on and reached for the doorknob.

Peter was still with the others in the kitchen. He hadn’t noticed she was leaving. No one was coming after her.

She slipped outside quietly, easing the storm door shut behind her so it wouldn’t bang. Snow lashed against her cheeks, and the wind whipped her hair as she walked to her Honda and started the engine. Oddly enough, she didn’t feel the slightest bit cold.

It wasn’t hard to walk out of your own life, she thought as she carefully drove down the hill and turned left, the B-and-B receding in her rearview mirror and then disappearing completely. Not hard at all.

Chapter Twenty-six

“KIRA?” PETER LOOKED UP
from his computer. “I found a shuttle bus.”

Dawn stopped flipping through the yellow pages. “She’s not here. She said she had to go out.”

Peter frowned. “Where?”

“Maybe to get more asparagus?” Dawn guessed. “She left about an hour ago.”

“She hates driving in the snow,” Peter said. “I’m surprised she went alone.”

The front door slammed and Dawn flinched, but it was just Rand.

“Did anyone call the power company?” he asked.

“I did,” Dawn said. “I told them a live power line was down, and a lot of people were going to be walking around the area because of the wedding, so we’re on a priority list. They said they’d come within four hours.”

Rand gave her a high-five. “Should we put all the food outside, just in case? I mean, who needs a refrigerator when we’ve got the world’s biggest one in our backyard?”

“Let’s give it a couple hours,” Peter said. “Did Kira say anything to you guys before she left?”

Dawn shook her head.

“Kira left?” Rand asked. “Not the greatest weather for her to be out driving.”

Peter picked up her cell phone off the counter and looked at it. “Five missed calls,” he said. “All from Jessica. Can I borrow your Jeep?” he finally asked Rand. “I want to go into town and look for her.”

Rand scooped up his keys off the counter and tossed them to his brother.

“Need help?” he offered, but Peter just shook his head and walked out.

• • •

Alyssa made the slow journey to the couch. It was a shower day, so she’d taken advantage of the authorized movement to travel to the living room. She couldn’t do much to help with the wedding, but maybe there were some small tasks she could handle while lying down.

The house seemed so quiet. She’d expected it to be awhirl with activity, with Kira holding court in the kitchen, and Rand and Peter carrying things out to the tent . . . but she couldn’t hear a thing. She looked out the window. Where was the tent?

“Hello?” she called out, and Dawn swung through the door from the kitchen.

“Where is everyone?” Alyssa asked.

“Rand’s outside, and Peter went to look for Kira,” Dawn said. “She ran an errand in town. At least, we think that’s what she did. We were all worried about the power being out, so things were a little confused . . .”

“How long has she been gone?” Alyssa asked.

“Maybe an hour and a half?” Dawn guessed.

“She’ll probably be back any second now,” Alyssa said. “So what can I do to help? We’ve got a wedding to throw, right?”

Dawn nodded. “Kira was going to do the soup next, so I took it over. I cubed the butternut squash, but maybe you could chop up the scallions and stuff? I could bring you a cutting board.”

“Perfect,” Alyssa said. “It’ll be good to feel useful.”

As Dawn turned to go back into the kitchen, Alyssa spoke up again. “Did anyone try to call Kira?”

Dawn hesitated. “That’s the odd thing. She left her phone behind.”

Alyssa glanced out the window. “The snow’s really coming down,” she said. “I’m glad Peter’s going to look for her. The roads must be getting slippery.

As Dawn went back into the kitchen, Kira’s cell phone rang. Dawn snatched it up, thinking it might be Kira, but the call was from Peter.

“Hi,” Dawn said. “Did you find her?”

She could hear the disappointment in his voice. “No. I was hoping she’d be home by now . . . I’ve driven all around town and haven’t spotted our car. Call me when she comes back, okay? I’m going to keep looking.”

“Sure,” Dawn said. She glanced at the long to-do list Kira had taped to the front of one of the kitchen cabinets. Kira had allotted certain amounts of time for each task she needed to complete today, and according to the schedule, they were almost two hours behind. It shouldn’t have taken more than forty minutes for her to pick up asparagus, even if she’d had to drive slowly because of the weather. Dawn felt the hairs on her arms stand up. What could have happened to Kira?

When she spoke to Peter, though, she made sure to keep her voice light and reassuring: “You probably just missed each other. I bet she’s on her way home right now.”