Snow Job (8 page)

“Yeah, actual y I was,” he admitted. “I real y want to make sure we get away on time tomorrow, the flight leaves so early.”

“Wel , there’s my stuff. Do your worst. But I think you real y just wanted to make sure I was already packed.”

“It’s a possibility.” Karl hefted the suitcase and Elyce’s boot bag and loaded them into the back of his SUV, which he’d parked with the tailgate facing her doorway. After storing her skis neatly alongside his own, he closed the hatch and Elyce was surprised to see that the vehicle, which he’d purchased some time after she left, was actual y a hybrid.

“How noble of you,” she said, lifting an eyebrow his way and running her fingers along the raised silver lettering on the SUV’s tailgate, before tucking them back into the pocket of the hoodie she’d thrown on over her pajamas for warmth when she joined him outside.

“You sound so surprised.”

“It’s a fairly smal gesture. And it’s stil an SUV. You’re not exactly going to win any awards for environmentalist of the year because you popped the extra few thousand for the hybrid.”

“Can we not do this right now?”

In the glare of the porch light, Karl’s features seemed too sharp, the light in his eyes too cold. Elyce shivered and pul ed her hoodie closer around her, stamping her feet lightly in an effort to stave off the chil . From the air, from Karl, from her own heart…she wasn’t sure which. Perhaps al three.

“What time are you getting here in the morning again?”

“Six. The flight’s at eight-fifty. If traffic isn’t too bad, we should have time to get checked in and do the whole security thing, but not have to spend too much time sitting around before we board.”

“You’l have coffee and donuts?”

Karl grinned. “Absolutely. I wouldn’t spend that much time in an enclosed space with you at that hour of the morning without subduing you first with caffeine and a snack.”

“Ha. Just bring the java, funny boy.”

For a moment their humor felt easy, unforced. But then the cold seeped in again, and Elyce shuffled her feet in the gravel uncomfortably until Karl spoke again.

gravel uncomfortably until Karl spoke again.

“Wel , I guess I’l see you in the morning then. Thanks for letting me load up.”

“No problem. See you tomorrow.”

And with a few more stilted words, Karl left and Elyce retreated back into her little house, feeling not much warmer than she had while standing in her driveway.

The flight into Denver was as turbulent as ever, and when they final y reached the airport and disembarked, Elyce felt as usual like she would gladly kiss the ground.

Karl held a firm hand at her back as they walked down to the baggage area. Elyce let it remain there, glad for the support though not comfortable about the source. When he left her to watch for their bags while he checked on the car, she felt bereft at the loss of his touch and hated herself a little for al owing herself to feel that way.

Karl returned before the luggage had tumbled out onto the conveyer and they were able to retrieve their things without mishap, transferring them smoothly to a cart and then out to the waiting SUV with the discreet assistance of a porter.

She had almost forgotten how things were with Karl, particularly how things were when they were spending time with his family…how privilege greased the wheels of every transaction and there were no annoying squeaks or stal s to mar the experience.

Elyce’s own parents were more than comfortably wel off, but Karl’s family existed at an entirely different level of wealth that, until her involvement with him, Elyce had never even dreamed of experiencing. The flight might have been bumpy, but it had stil been a luxurious, first-class trip from start to finish. An SUV—one from the family’s modest fleet of winter-ready four-wheel drives—had been waiting at the airport as anticipated, ful y fueled and ready to go. It was only driverless because Karl preferred to drive himself.

Who had been responsible, Elyce wondered, for dropping it off at the airport in time for Karl to pick it up? An actual family member or a minion?

Once they were on the road, however, she soon forgot about such burning questions. Instead, she turned her mind to the more pressing issues of enjoying the scenery and selecting CDs to listen to from the ample and eclectic selection provided. Karl kept the heavy binder of CDs at the cabin just for his visits, and whoever drove the truck to the airport always remembered to include the music. Elyce flipped through the plastic sleeves to find her favorites, the same songs she chose every year at this time.

“Vince Guaraldi?” Karl guessed as he maneuvered the vehicle expertly through the light traffic on the way out of Denver.

“Of course,” Elyce said, sliding the CD into place. “It’s Christmas.”

“Of course.”

They listened to the evocative strains in companionable silence, only occasional y commenting on something seen in passing, enjoying the serene beauty of the snow-draped-mountain landscape. Final y Elyce fel asleep, her rol ed-up parka propped against the window as a pil ow. When she woke, they were already ascending the driveway to the cabin, winding up the final steep hil side on the narrow private road that switchbacked from the main highway up to the Nashes’ winter hideaway.

“We’re already here?” Elyce asked in groggy disbelief.

A moment of anxiety gripped her as she thought about the reception she might receive from Karl’s family—from those, at least, who knew about the separation.

It turned out that her fears were groundless. Karl’s mother Alice greeted them at the door and immediately swept Elyce into an eager hug, then pul ed her into the living room where a general cry of happy greetings were thrown her way by the assembled family. Then there were more hugs, a cascade of welcoming gestures. First from Karl’s sister, as though she hadn’t just seen Elyce a few days beforehand. Then from the older nieces, Nash and Reese, although they made it known that at twelve and ten, respectively, they were clearly getting a little old for that sort of thing. And from Karl’s father, diverted only momentarily by the new arrivals before turning his attention back to the proper placement of the Christmas tree.

Wil and Scott, the brawn to Bil Nash’s supervisory brain, just nodded amiably in Elyce’s direction before making a clamor for Karl to come help them with “the monster”, as they had already dubbed this year’s fresh tree.

It was easily fifteen feet tal , and it swayed dangerously as they shifted it in smal increments at the whim of Karl’s father until he was satisfied with its general appearance.

Elyce watched, grinning despite herself at the scene that cal ed up memories of every other Christmas spent here at the cabin. Al of them, with the exception of the previous year, had been happy occasions. It felt good, like a homecoming, and she was almost a little sad to see the Nash family again in this setting. The whole thing brought too sharply to mind how much she liked Karl’s family, and how much she missed spending time with them…how much she missed
being
one of them. They were such nice people.

If only
,

she

thought,
they weren’t raping the

environment for profit
.

It felt sour to think of it that way, and at odds with the scene before her, but she knew it was a necessary thing for her to think if she were to keep her wits about her for the next couple weeks. It wouldn’t do to fal into the trap of feeling at home here again, as she had once done. It wouldn’t do at al .

* * * * *

The assembled family had held off trimming the tree until Karl and Elyce’s arrival, and fol owing dinner, the boxes and trays of ornaments were emptied amid laughter and champagne. Once the lights were hung, a process that took wel over an hour, the real work started. The great tree slowly took on its holiday habit, with the highest ornaments being hung first by grownups on firmly steadied ladders, and the lowest ones placed by the children who vied hotly for their favorite decorations among the hundreds available.

Last of al was the glistening crystal-and-filigree star, fixed into place by Alice as Karl and Wil stood below and prepared to catch her should she lose her balance atop the ladder.

“Perfect,” she said at last, with a satisfied nod. “Now it final y looks like Christmas around here.”

Elyce smiled to herself, looking around the cabin at the already decidedly festive decor. Even without the tree, every surface fairly screamed “Christmas”. Fresh boughs of pine and hol y festooned the top of the piano, were swagged up with red ribbons on the high-arched lintels over the doorways and al but hid the surround of the enormous stone fireplace that dominated the center of the room’s one outside wal . At least, the fireplace dominated the room after dark. During the day, the mostly windowed wal behind it provided a magnificent view that took clear precedence over anything manmade.

For now, however, the hearth was the bril iant centerpiece to the room, the perfect counterbalance to the festivity of the tree. The fire crackled brightly, the scent of pine and pumpkin pie fil ed the air, and Elyce knew that on Christmas Eve the children would al go to bed wearing something like red-and-green-plaid pajamas in keeping with the overal theme of the occasion. There would be readings of “’Twas the Night Before Christmas” and relevant passages from the Bible, and the ritual lighting of the Advent candles, which were in an enormous fresh wreath in the center of the rustic dining table. Plum pudding and eggnog, a juicy satsuma in the toe of each stocking in the morning and the gifts surprisingly restrained but always personal, chosen with genuine thought and care.

Say what one might about the Nashes, they knew how to keep Christmas.

Elyce wanted to be cynical about that but found she couldn’t, not in the face of it. For al their wealth, they weren’t extravagant when it came to family holidays, if one discounted the fact of their spending the holiday en masse at a luxurious ski resort. The location might be costly but the occasion was always about family. And they were welcoming her back into that family as if she had never abandoned it, never abandoned their golden boy of a son because he didn’t meet her high ideals.

She had just enough grace to feel a little ashamed at accepting their hospitality.

* * * * *

Karl’s grandparents—the al eged reason for Elyce’s being at the cabin in the first place—seemed pleased to see her, but only in the usual way. She had to keep reminding herself that of course, they were the only ones there who had expected to see her al along. They didn’t know they were welcoming her back after a long absence.

Karl’s grandmother, Joan, did make a few pointed remarks about how much smal er Karl’s family stil was than those of his siblings, but other than that she was perfectly pleasant as always.

“We’l get back to you on that one, Jo-jo,” Karl said lightly as he steered Elyce away from his grandmother’s efforts to dig deeper about the prospect of more grandchildren. When he deemed they were a safe distance away, he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial murmur, glancing around to make sure nobody else was nearby. “Al right, we’re going to have to make a plan. I don’t have a present for you; you probably stil don’t have one for me. So what do you want for Christmas?”

Elyce bit back her first answer, which would have been,

“I don’t want anything from you.” She wasn’t surprised they were in the same dilemma, but she stil didn’t feel inclined to cut Karl any slack this holiday. He had invited her, so he should have already considered the gift issue.

“Surprise me,” she said instead, smiling sweetly and looking around the room. Nobody seemed to be paying any attention to them. “What do
you
want for Christmas?”

“You.”

“That isn’t helpful.”

“Not meant to be.”

Elyce wanted to growl in exasperation but stifled the impulse. “Why don’t we each just go buy something for ourselves then we can wrap whatever that is and pretend to be surprised Christmas morning?”

“No deal,” he said. “I require a present. If it can’t be you, at least it can be
from
you.” He was leaning closer, his hand tucked possessively around her upper arm, and his smile would have seemed seductive even to the casual passerby.

Elyce told herself it did not seem seductive to her, not in the slightest. Nor was the brush of his fingers, stroking just above her elbow, any type of distraction.

“Fine. I’l get you a scarf or something.”

“I’l take what I can get,” said Karl, and kissed her without warning. It was a fairly restrained kiss, on the edge of family appropriate, but no chaste peck. When she started to pul away in protest he gripped her arm more tightly, as if reminding her of her purpose there. When he final y released her, he looked smug and she had to clench her nails into the palms of her hands to keep from slapping the look from his face. She was as angry at herself as she was at him, for the heavy sweep of desire that had knocked her off balance halfway through the kiss, and for the fact that her knees stil felt shaky after he pul ed away.

“That was uncal ed for,” she whispered, with another saccharine smile for the benefit of any who might have noticed their interaction.

“That was what you’re here for,” he reminded her, and then sauntered away as if nothing unusual had transpired between them.