Authors: Violet Vaughn
Crave (9 page)
A fabulous day of spring skiing cut short, I don’t mind. I have a party to attend. I look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I dare say I have a slight tan. I push at the skin on my nose to see if it goes white from sunburn. Nope, tan. Even wearing the heaviest protective sunscreen I can find, I manage to get sun. The altitude makes the rays here much stronger than at lower elevations. I look like a Breck local with my goggle face. How does one do makeup to accent? I snort at myself and grab my backpack.
The drive to Tim and Clara’s is quick, but beautiful today. While the roads are slushy from the spring thaw, the mountains are still pearly white teeth cutting into the crisp, blue sky. I pull into the driveway and notice the heavy front door is open, leaving only the clear glass storm door closed with sunlight streaming in. Loaded up with bags, I hit the doorbell using my elbow. I see Blaine sitting on the floor in an odd position. Each foot is placed down on a magazine. His hands rest either side of him, on kid chairs. Benjamin works intently on one foot while Jenny works on a hand. Oh my, he’s getting his nails done. Jenny jumps up at the sound of the bell and lets me in.
I’m hit by the smell of acetate. “Well, what have we here?” Benjamin is busy using one of every nail polish color on Blaine’s toes. I’m sure the nails are painted, too. Jenny is a little more fashion conscious, painting his fingernails with glitter blue. I’m positive he has no idea how hard that will be to remove. “Primping for the party?”
Blaine looks up at me with a slightly pleading look.
“I guess it was a better idea ten minutes ago.” I snicker.
“Very funny. What do you think?” He holds the completed hand up for me to see.
“Sparkly. It looks good.” I pause. “On you.” I laugh and walk into the kitchen to drop the bags.
In a slightly exaggerated voice I say, “Oh, darn it. I forgot to get ice cream for dessert tonight.”
Knowing it’s his cue, Blaine answers, “I can go get some.”
“Would you? Thanks, Blaine, you’re a doll.” In a quieter voice I add, “Literally.”
“You’re having a little too much fun with this, Casey.” Blaine has a mock-warning tone. Yes, I do believe I am.
Jenny comes in the kitchen with a big smirk on her face. I tilt my head at her. “You don’t have nail polish remover, do you?”
“Nope.” She covers her mouth with her hands and tries to suppress a giggle.
“You’re an evil little girl and I love it.” I give her a high five. A thought occurs to me. “Jenny, did the California boy wear flip-flops today?”
She can’t contain herself. She lets out squeals of laughter. Benjamin laughs too. I’m not sure he knows why, but it’s contagious. Even Blaine laughs. Poor guy.
I walk over behind him, put my hands on his shoulders, and squat down to whisper in his ear. “Remover is in the shampoo aisle and get cotton balls too.”
He throws me a thankful look and stands up.
Once he’s gone, I say, “Whew, I thought he would never leave. Now we better make some cupcakes.”
Three hours and a very messy kitchen later, there are cupcakes, tomato sauce on both tiny faces from my homemade pizza, and Blaine is nail-polish free.
Before dessert, we decide it’s time to do presents. Benjamin hands Blaine a box wrapped in bright paper decorated with trains. I hear it rip as it’s torn open with flair. Inside is a framed picture of Blaine with the kids. He has his arms around each one, and they are pulled against his chest. It tugs on my heart. He’ll make a great father.
“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.”
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.