Mountain Song (12 page)

“Yeah, but I bet it
doesn’t pay.”

“Depends. Maybe if you stripped down to a G-string—”

Andy had hoped to
pound some caffeine in solitude before beginning his day, but he had to admit
that Rick was a welcome diversion. After driving home from Claudia’s, he’d
sacked out on his bed without even bothering to pull back the covers, falling
into a deep, dreamless sleep. He must have needed it.

Too much was going
through his mind. Too much, certainly, if he was going to get through the day’s
agenda.

“You ought to talk
about it, man,” Rick said, as though reading his thoughts. They found a table
by a window, bright sun pouring into the room. Andy pulled a pair of sunglasses
from his shirt pocket. Handy for keeping nosy friends from reading too much
into his expression.

But even that didn’t
work on Rick. The man had a sixth sense.

“Grace Kelley got you
all strung out?”

“Claudia Canfield,”
Andy muttered wearily.

“Whatever. You spend
the night with her?”

“What gives you that
idea?”

“Nothing much...other
than the fact you look like you went ten rounds. And lost. She
that...energetic?”

“Come off it,
Martinez,” Andy said through gritted teeth.

“Yeah. So, anyway, you
think there’s any kind of future in this?”

Andy stirred a thick
powdery layer of non-dairy creamer into his coffee, then kept on stirring,
watching the little red straw swirl in the steaming liquid. The sticky Danish
sat untouched.

“You gonna eat that?”

Andy pushed the Danish
across the table at Rick. “Even if she weren’t going back East in a few days,
she’s got some guy. So, the answer to your question is no. No future.”

“A guy? Whaddya mean,
a guy? Like, she’s engaged? Or married?”

“Neither, that I know
of.”

“So, the problem
is...?

“Look, for once can
you be serious about something? Or else—” Andy leaned heavily on his
forearm, resting his unshaven chin on his palm. “Or else change the subject,
which would probably be for the best, anyway. Where’s the poker game this week?”

“No, I
am
being serious. If she’s not engaged,
she’s not committed. You got to look at this like, you know, a marathon, man. You’re
in there poundin’ the dirt with all these other guys. Along the way, some are
gonna bite the dust. Injuries. Hackin’ their guts out on the side of the road—”

“Aw, nice.”

“Sorry. The point is,
only one guy crosses the line first, you know? You got to just focus on being
that guy. If—” Rick tilted his head sideways and regarded him openly,
making Andy shift uncomfortably in his chair. “If you think she’s the one, you
know?”

If she’s the one
. Startled, Andy dropped his gaze back to the
spinning vortex made by the stir stick in his cup, avoiding Rick’s eyes. Where
the hell did that question come from? He’d never—

But that wasn’t really
true, was it? He’d once believed Claudia was the one woman for him. Had dared
to hope she’d be by his side for the things he intended to accomplish.

Had dared to think of
a forever that included her.

Until she’d left him,
the final insult in a string of them. She’d wanted to pay for his time as
though he were another of her diversions. To buy his devotion, when he’d gladly
have given it for free. Stupid, he’d been, to think she’d sacrifice her
lifestyle merely to be with him. But then again maybe it wasn’t fair to ask any
woman to live the way he’d had to live, to fight his way up from the depths.

And when she’d spoken
of marriage and family—didn’t she see how it tore at him? How he hungered
for these things that she offered? Yes, he wanted them, more than he’d ever
admitted, even to himself.

But on his terms. He
wanted to be able to give a wife a home. Not to confine her in it, but to give
her a place to return at the end of the day, a place of comfort, of beauty. And
children—he wanted those too, once he’d achieved his goals. Not a minute
before, because he planned to give his children the gifts of time and
attention, gifts he’d never shared with his own father, who worked his life
away trying to make sure his son wouldn’t do the same thing. And there had been
so much to accomplish, back then, years of hard work and poverty and sleepless
nights...

Years he’d known
Claudia would never survive.

“Hey, you still with
us?”

“She wasn’t the one,”
Andy muttered.

“
Wasn’t
?”

“Wasn’t, isn’t—what’s
the difference? We never could have worked things out. She wanted—aw,
hell, it doesn’t matter what she wanted. Let’s just say I could never have met
her expectations.”

Martinez shrugged. “I
don’t know, looked like you met ‘em just fine the other day. I saw how she was looking
at you, like she wouldn’t mind a big ol’ piece of—”

“Forget it.” Andy
crumpled up his napkin, pushed his paper cup around the table.

“All right, man. I’m
just saying...well, if you want to talk, you know where to find me, right? I
got to get up on the floor. Poker’s at Robinson’s, but you don’t look like you’re
in very good fighting form. They’ll clean you out, man. Better skip it.”

“Thanks for the
advice.” Andy attempted an ironic lift of the eyebrows, but couldn’t manage it.

“No problem.” Martinez
shoved back his chair and stood up. Then he hesitated, turned back to the
table. “Look, Andy. Give it some thought, you know? If I ever found the right
girl—I mean the one, you know, who really did it for me—I’d give it
all up to make it work.”

“No chance.”

“Yeah, really.”

Martinez dropped his
hand to Andy’s shoulder, clamped down for a second. Then he was gone, expertly
threading his way through the knots of people.

So his best friend was
worried about him. That didn’t bode well.

His mind went of its
own accord back to old ground again. Things were all wrong back then, things
between him and Claudia. It could never have worked, would have fallen apart
under the weight of their problems.

But...did that mean it
couldn’t work now?

His life had changed. He’d
achieved his goals. He’d made it. Hell, he had what she needed now, money,
status.

But she’d changed,
too, didn’t seem to need the same things. She was so much more—Andy
searched for the right word—
independent
now. She had her own job, her own life. She was traveling a path she’d set,
rather than wandering aimlessly through life as she had been when she’d
stumbled upon him the first time.

But what about this
Paul? In the dozens of times he’d gone over it in his mind since last night,
his thoughts always came back to the other man in her life, the man she missed,
the man she loved. And yet, he couldn’t imagine Claudia sharing her bed with
him last night, loving him the way she had, if there was truly another
relationship in her life.

Not to mention that
aging foil packet in her purse, the one she said hadn’t seen service in months
or even years...how did that fit into the picture?

She loved Paul, she
said. But she also admitted she
wanted
Andy. Could it be that there was no passion between them, as he’d accused?

Was there room between
them for him to gain a foothold—and take her away?

Dizzy with the
possibility, Andy made a decision.

He was going to find
out.

Claudia banged her
elbow getting into the rental car and cursed under her breath. She missed her
car at home. It was a Honda minivan, bought not long after Paul was born. It
had plenty of room for a car seat and all the supplies her life suddenly seemed
to need when he arrived.

It wasn’t fancy, but
it was comfortable and it was
hers
. In
fact it was the first thing she’d ever paid for with her own money, money she’d
earned with the designs she created. She wrote the checks every month with a
sense of pride until the car belonged one hundred per cent to her.

She missed her
apartment, too. The cozy living room with a giant Lego masterpiece-in-process
sitting on the coffee table. Her study, with her sewing table and the
brightly-colored fabric swatches and stacks of sketchbooks.

Most of all she missed
Paul. This was the longest she’d ever been away from him. For that matter, this
was the only time she’d ever left him for more than an occasional overnight
with his cousins or his Grandpa.


”I
love you, Mama,” he said each time she called. “I miss you.” But he also told
her how much fun he was having with his baby-sitter, Elizabeth, and with his
Aunt Tina and his cousins. He told her how they’d gone to Grandpa’s office to
take him out to lunch.

“I got a frankfurter. It’s
like a hot dog but different,” he reported with great solemnity.

She’d made her Dad
promise not to spoil Paul too much. She sighed. At least Elizabeth would keep
things under control. She was determined that Paul would have a normal
childhood, not shut away somewhere in a mansion, being driven to school in a
private car.

Shut away in a
mansion. Just like she’d threatened to do to Bea.

Claudia spread the
sheet of directions on her knee, re-reading the notes she’d taken. At least
Andy had agreed to see her. Even asked her to dinner. A late dinner, after he
finished up at the hospital, but that was okay with her. It gave her more time
to think.

And to work on her
courage.

Claudia pulled out of
Bea’s driveway and drove through the streets of town in the descending
twilight. Everything was familiar, but different. That winter she’d traveled
from the ski slopes to Bea’s to Andy’s. To restaurants, now and then, but
mostly she picked up carryout to take with her to Andy’s. He’d been sensitive
about that. Didn’t like her to pay for things.

She hadn’t understood
that then, but now she did. Now she knew what it meant to support herself, to
buy things with money she’d earned rather than being given. She’d owed Andy a
greater appreciation for his point of view.

But that wasn’t her
biggest debt to Andy Woods.

Of course, without
Bea, she might have been able to avoid facing up to this particular
responsibility. That was the thing about Bea: she was never wrong, at least not
on the big things. Ever since the day Claudia let her father convince her to
put Andy forever in her past, she’d known deep inside she’d robbed Andy. She
owed him the knowledge that they had a child together. Maybe even the chance to
be a part of Paul’s life, if he wanted. Not that he would, since his life was
too busy for two people. But she’d owed him that chance.

It had taken Bea to
point out last night that she could still make good on that debt. Late, it was
true. But as Bea said, Andy deserved to know.

Of course, that would
be the end of their...of whatever it was between them. Had to be. If Andy was
going to know about Paul, maybe even want to meet him someday, it would be best
if everything was kept as clean as possible. No messy entanglements.

For Paul’s sake,
surely they could manage that.

Claudia was so
distracted in her thoughts that she almost missed the narrow road leading up
into the woods. Checking her directions, she managed a lurching turn, and
slowed as she ascended the forested slope. The houses were more sparse here,
set back in the pines.

There it was. The
number painted on the mailbox at the edge of the road matched her the one she’d
written in her directions. Claudia turned onto the gravel drive, then slowly
cut the ignition and got out of the car, all the while staring at Andy’s house.

It was wonderful,
exactly the place she would have designed herself. Not huge or extravagant, the
cedar-sided cabin was simple, unassuming, and perfectly inviting. It had a
porch that ran all along the front of the house and continued around the sides.
A couple of rockers clustered around a twig table, the sort of table where a
tray of lemonade and gingersnaps would be at home.

In the upper windows,
petunias and ivy spilled out of flower boxes. More flowers bloomed in tin and
copper tubs clustered on the front steps.

Andy appeared at the
door, and Claudia realized he must have seen her arrive through the big picture
window.

“Come on in,” he said
uncertainly, his smile a little strained. She realized with surprise that he
was nervous.

“Your house—it’s
beautiful,” she said, stepping by him and glancing around the room. Like the
outside, it was furnished simply, with warm wood wainscoting and oversized
chairs and ottomans surrounding a fireplace.

“Yeah, well, it suits
me,” Andy said, an edge to his voice. “It’s nothing extravagant...”

“Oh, no, it’s perfect,”
Claudia cut in quickly.

“Not what you’re used
to.”