Snowbound (14 page)

Mostly she loved being wherever John was. Watching him do the simplest task gave her pleasure. Being able to meet his eyes, even when the kitchen was crowded, in a silent, intimate exchange filled her with joy. The moments when he touched her in passing, his hand possessive and knowing, were almost as good as their kisses when they were alone.

He encouraged her to talk when they had time alone,
as if he were hungry to learn everything about her. She found herself confessing to things shed been dismayed to learn about herself.

Thanksgiving was weird, she admitted, when they took a walk down to the creek. Snow crunched under their feet, and ahead moving water burbled in an otherwise silent landscape. The cabins, no doubt inviting in summer, looked cold and empty with unmarked snow burying steps, no smoke coming from metal stovepipes, and windows glinting blankly. Icicles hung from eaves.

Do you know, Fiona continued, as they followed a path made by cross-country skies and showshoes, I think I was
jealous?
I told myself I was glad Mom is dating, but then I secretly resented this man because I had to share her with him. Im so used to having her to myself. She shook her head at the memory and with one gloved hand brushed snow from a bough that sprang higher once released from the weight. They were really careful not to touch, and we were all so awkward. Im embarrassed to remember.

Even if youd felt comfortable, they might not have. John wore a fleece hatsomething he rarely did. It was so cold today.

Im sure. But they were awkward because of
me.
Because I sat there wishing Mom hadnt invited him. I felt awful when she made a point of telling me Christmas Eve would be just us. And this was the most humiliating part even worse when I said Id be away for Christmas and I heard her voice lighten when she told me not to worry, she wouldnt have to be alone.

You wanted her to be alone on Christmas Eve? His glance was quizzical, his voice gentle.

No! Of course not! Fiona laughed to hide her discomfiture. I just wanted her to miss the time when it was enough for it just to be the two of us.

John stopped. Do you think she doesnt?

Fiona had to sniff, not sure if her nose was running from the grief of something lost or just from the cold.

Nope. I know she loves me, and that those
were
genuinely happy times. But knowing and
knowing
She touched a fist to her chest. Those arent the same thing.

He looked away. No. For a moment it seemed he wouldnt say any more, but then he continued, The voice of common sense sounds a lot like a parent telling us what we should feel or think. Of course we dont listen to it.

She blinked. Yes, it was exactly like that. Shed chew herself out for being silly enough to feel something irrational, and that voice was downright irritating. It made her feel rebellious and childish.

I never realized, she said, nodding, but youre right. I suppose we internalize everything our parents and coaches and teachers say, and then spout it back at ourselves.

And, unfortunately, at our kids.

Oh, ugh. And here I am, a teacher!

A good one.

But I say those kinds of things!

He laughed at her, whatever had made him seem to withdraw for a moment having passed. Yeah, but the thing is, its usually good advice.

Oh, I suppose. She scowled at him. Well, great. Now Im going to have to watch everything I say.

John shook his head. No. Just go with your instincts. You have good ones. I heard you talking to the kids. He suddenly stopped and lifted a hand. Shh.

Fiona, too, heard a crunch of snow and rustle of branches. She waited, breathless, looking in the direction of the sound. There was silence, and she might have given up had John not remained so still.

A deer stepped out onto the creekside trail not twenty feet ahead of them, followed closely by a second. She wasnt sure, but thought they were does. Did male deer have antlers year around? One was noticeably larger than the other. Mother and yearling? They looked directly at John and Fiona, momentarily freezing, their haunches bunching as if in preparation for flight, but in the absence of movement they relaxed and crunched forward to the creek, their delicate hooves piercing the snow.

In still spots the creek was iced over, but where water eddied or raced over rocks, it ran free between snowy banks. They both drank, lifting their heads frequently to listen for danger.

Abruptly, either having drunk their fill or hearing something human ears couldnt catch, they sprang back into the woods. Their leaps were awkward, and she imagined how difficult heavy snow must be for them.

Ooh, she murmured, when they were gone. They were beautiful.

Not looking too bad, either. Ill worry if winter gets too harsh.

She reached for his hand, and was warmed by it
despite the gloves both wore. Youre not a hunter, I take it.

Me? Recoiling, he sounded repulsed, reminding her of how fresh bloodshed was for him. God, no.

The shadow of horror in his eyes was something he usually hid from her.

I suppose youd have lost your taste for it even if you had been a hunter, she said tentatively.

I never was. He let her hand drop and said, We should start back.

That night, her sixth therewith only four more to goshe felt bold enough to ask him about Iraq. It took a little coaxing, but he did talk about life there for the soldiers: the rec center with ping-pong, foosball tables, computers with unreliable Internet connections and free movies every night. The Hajji shops run by locals where you could buy anything from bootlegged DVDs to Welcome To Iraq postcards. The state-of-the-art gym, the food, the ups and downs of laundry service. Telling stories, John was occasionally funny and seemingly relaxed.

It was only as she settled into sleep that Fiona realized he hadnt actually told her anything important. Not about what hed felt, or done every day. Certainly not about friends hed lost. He made a joke about how often the gym closed down because of mortar attacks, but had nothing to say about what it was like to live day-to-day knowing you werent safe even walking to the dining hall.

And, of course, he said nothing whatever about getting wounded.

The next night, beginning to feel frightened by how near the end of her visit they were, Fiona asked about his family. They were lying in bed after making love. He was on his back, one hand propped behind his head, the other arm around her. With her head on his bare chest, she could not just hear but feel his heart beat.

What do you want to know? he asked.

OhAre you close? Did they send you care packages while you were overseas?

He was quiet for a minute. Yeah. Yeah, they did. My folks are good people. My father owns his own plumbing business. I told you that, didnt I? He encouraged me to tinker when I was little. I could rebuild an engine by the time I was thirteen, fourteen.

I take it building robots wasnt quite what he had in mind?

His chest rumbled with a quiet laugh. No, but my parents were proud of me. He fell silent again, and when she tilted her head, she saw that he was frowning. What was he thinking about? Their pride when he went to college and then grad school, or when he donned his uniform and went to Iraq to serve his country?

What do your sisters do?

Hmm? He seemed to pull himself back from wherever hed been with difficulty, but after a minute he said, Maryshes three years older than meshes married, has two kids and, now that theyre in school, works at the library. My younger sister was married once, divorced with no kids, and is a journalist with the
Oregonian.

Knowing she should remember, Fiona still had to ask, Whats her name?

Liz. Short for Elizabeth. My parents believed in the basics where names were concerned. The old ones were still the good ones.

Fiona laughed. You sound fondest of Liz.

Were the closest in ageonly eighteen months between us. And maybe the most alike.

He talked comfortably about her in particular, telling stories about growing up in a working-class neighborhood in Portland.

Since you got back? she asked.

Again, he was quiet for a minute before asking. They were shocked. They try to be supportive. But, except for Liz, they dont understand damage they cant see.

Fiona was lying on his good side, so she couldnt see the scar on his face from here. He always rolled in such a way that she ended up on this side, and she assumed that was because of the pain in his hip. The surgical scar there was horrific, the mass of far-less tidy scar tissue on his thigh even more so. She thought it was astonishing that he could walk, let alone do the hard physical labor he often did.

They think you should be able to put it behind you? she said softly.

They and everyone else. For a moment his voice was harsh with repressed anger, or even violence. As quickly, he buried it deep, tugging her higher. Hey. Kiss me.

So she did, and ended up learning nothing more.

No, that wasnt entirely true. What she learned was that he was very, very good at not telling her anything
meaningful. Evasion, she was frightened to realize, was his way. He wanted to get to know her. He just didnt want her to really know
him.

Which wasnt entirely fair of her, Fiona knewthat adult voice talking, reasoning with the absurdly emotional part of her that began to resent being shut out. He did share, just nothing beyond the superficial.

She had to keep repeating to herself that they hadnt known each other long. Hed been through so much. Talking about it wouldnt come easily for him. Shed known that about him before she came for this visit. Hed gotten so angry, that night on the porch, when shed tried to push him to confide in her.

And ultimately, it was the anger that disturbed her most. The horror she understood. The things he must have seenHow could anyone tuck those memories away and go comfortably back to life as if he was still the same person? But who was he angry
at?
The man whod fired the weapon that hurt him? One faction or another in Iraq? The U.S. government for sending him? Fate? Himself? Fiona had no idea, because he wouldnt tell her.

She was actually starting to feel uncomfortable, as if she should cross her arms and cover herself. Shed told him some really personal and even embarrassing things about herself, like the fact that she was childish enough to be jealous because her mother was dating. But he wasnt at all interested in talking about his feelings in the same way. So there she was, bare, while he hadnt peeled off a single article of clothing. At least, thats what it felt like.

So maybe what they had going was just about sex to John.

Of course, the sex was awfully good. Shed known it would be. How could it not, when the mere sight of him stirred her in unfamiliar ways? And this trip, it was just exploratory, for both of them. She doubted he was ready for anything more than, well, a
fling
with normalcy, anyway. She even tried to tell herself she was okay with that. The way she hurt inside when he evaded a question or even, one night, said, Not something I want to talk about, and rolled away, that was only punctured ego, not the bruise it felt like.

What she really, truly, wasnt prepared for was what happened on her last night there.

They made love the moment they were alone. She felt Johns urgency, shared it; tomorrow night, shed be home in her town house in Hawes Ferry, miles from here, not knowing when she would see him again. When they were sated, if only briefly, he rolled to take his weight off her and gathered her close.

He nuzzled her hair. She was smiling, her eyelids growing heavy, when he said suddenly, Dont leave tomorrow. Fiona, stay with me.

Shocked, she whispered, What? But school starts Wednesday

I dont mean just for another day or two. He reared up on one elbow so she could see his face, his eyes searching hers. Quit your job. Stay. Marry me.

She gaped at him. Was he
serious?

Fiona had an awful, awful feeling that he was.

J
OHN COULDNT BELIEVE
it. Hed asked the woman he loved to marry him, and the first words out of her mouth werent, Yes, oh yes! No, they were a flat and dismayed, Youre not serious.

Still raised on one elbow so he could see her lying beside him in bed, John stiffened. Why wouldnt I be?

Her eyes shied from his. We havent known each other that long.

Weve spent more time together than most couples do over six months of just dating.

Well, maybe. She sounded doubtful. But youve never said

Relieved, he realized hed forgotten the big words. That I love you? I think I fell in love by the second day you were here back in November.

Her eyes met his, begging, it seemed to him, and her voice was suddenly tremulous. Really?

Yeah. He bent his head to nuzzle her cheek. Really. You couldnt tell?

Fiona sat up so fast, her shoulder whacked his nose. No! No, I cantOh. She noticed that he was clutch
ing his nose and his eyes were watering. John! Im so sorry. I didnt mean She dragged in a deep breath. Butno. Love means trust. It means sharing. Making yourself vulnerable to the other person. Have you ever voluntarily told me one single really personal thing about yourself?

Goddamn. He squeezed the bridge of his nose and prayed the blaze of pain would subside.

Yes. I said I love you.

And Im questioning whether you do. She waited, uncompromising. What else?

He sat up straight, too. I told you how I feel about this. He touched his scar.

No, you didnt. You expressed the belief that women found it unattractive. I trust youre convinced that I dont?

He nodded. Its He stopped, physically unable to say the words.

She said them for him. Its a symbol, isnt it? The outward manifestation ofsomething. Something you wont tell me about.

Cant. He unclenched his jaw. Is that what this comes down to? I have to relive it for your benefit, or you wont believe I love you?

She looked sad. No. If it was just the one incident, I could understand better. But you dont talk about anything.

Incident?
He hardly heard the rest of what she said. The horrific splinter of a moment in time that had killed six teenage boys and maimed four others and him was an
incident?

Suddenly furious, he got out of bed. You dont get it, do you?

No, I dont. And I wont if you dont tell me.

John was still stunned. Hed been thinking about this all day, feeling something he hadnt in a long time: hope. And it had blown up in his face.

So were down to show-and-tell or bye-bye?

Fiona still looked sad, but also resolute and composed. She wasnt wavering. She wasnt torn. John, its not that simple. I have a commitment to be in that classroom Wednesday. I cant walk out on Willamette Prep with no notice even if I want to. Its unrealistic for you to ask me. And you know Im working on my masters degree at Portland U. Am I just supposed to forget that, too?

You could finish the year out

Do you intend to stay here forever? Her eyes were clear and entirely too perceptive. Never work again in robotics?

I dont know. Maybe Ill go back

How can you, if you can hardly bear to go into Danson?

Time heals. Isnt that what they all say?

Is that what the veterans hospital counselor said?

He didnt answer.

I didnt think so. There it was again, something very like grief in her voice. In just above a whisper, she said, I was falling in love with you, too. If only

John didnt let her finish, interjecting harshly, I could be the man I used to be?

No. If only youd take your courage in your hands and work toward being the man you
can
be.

His heart was as frozen as the ground outside. The only heat John felt was his anger. And who is that?

I dont know. She slipped from bed and went to her suitcase. I cant even guess, because I dont know you well enough.

He watched as she pulled on a T-shirt and her pajama bottoms, then came back to bed.

Im going to sleep, she said with dignity, climbed in with her back to him and pulled the covers up around her.

What could he do but the same? He turned out the light and lay on his back, his body rigid as anguish and fury washed through him in turn, the one rolling in and then fading back out as the other crested.

She didnt love him. She didnt know him. No, worse than thatshe saw him as a coward, despised him.

A man whod known pain, he didnt think he had ever hurt as much as he did now. God. She despised him. If she knew

He seemed to hear her whisper.
How can I?

If he told her, then she would know. That he had acted, however good his intentions, so recklessly, so foolishly, that he had all but killed those boys with his own hands. Then how would she feel about him?

He hadnt thought he could sleep, but he did eventually, only to awaken shouting. Shouting the warning that would forever come too late.

John! Hair tumbling around her shoulders, Fiona sat up beside him. She laid a hand on his forearm. Are you all right?

Yes. He got out of bed, went into the bathroom and shut the door. And he stayed, until she had either fallen
asleep or was pretending she had. And then he lay beside her in bed until the time when he could reasonably get up.

He was busy baking by the time she appeared, and guests began trickling in for breakfast soon thereafter. Right after breakfast, Fiona went back to his room to pack.

Once she was done, he pulled her suitcase to the porch steps, then carried it across the now-slushy ground to her car, heaving it into her trunk once she opened it.

She faced him. John

Drive carefully. It can be slippery when its melting like this.

Why wont you listen to me? she asked, with what sounded like despair.

If shed just
go.
Not insist on rehashing why he had been so foolish as to believe for a second they could have a future.

Stolidly he said, I listened.

Then you didnt hear. I came because I was falling in love with you, too. I gave myself to you because I was.

Yes. Thats why hed believed what he had.

Ifif this was the life you loved, the life youd chosen, then I would give serious thought to how I could combine mine with yours. But we both know it isnt. You have to be intellectually restless

Now, he
didnt
want to hear.

We both know youre temperamentally unsuited to a service job

Thanks for noticing that Im surly.

I feel like Im talking to one of my students! she said with exasperation.

Seeing her start to turn away, he panicked. Im dealing with my PTSD. In my own way.

Hed never let himself say, or even think, those words before:
my PTSD.
I
am suffering from posttraumatic stress.
He didnt stop to consider what it meant that he was saying them now.

Fiona turned back. Your way is to hide out.

Its healing naturally. With hard physical work, limited noise and stress. The old-fashioned way.

Is it working?

Im better.

But still suffering flashbacks and nightmares. Still unable to tell anyone about the traumatic events.

How do you know I havent told other people?

She refused to play his game, her eyes asking for more than he could give. Have you?

John couldnt lie. He stood there, mute.

I need to go, she whispered, and threw herself into the car. Not waiting to warm it up, she backed out as fast as the engine caught. John had to take a couple of quick steps back.

He was left with a last snapshot of her face, wet with tears.

F
IONA WAS READY
to give up. Shed been happier than she had ever been in her life when she was with John, and sadder and lonelier, too. If he couldnt even admit that he had a serious problem or that he was shutting her out, she didnt know what else she could do.

Except get over him.

She went to her mothers for dinner two days after
getting back, and the first thing she said was, I ruined Thanksgiving, didnt I? Im so sorry, Mom! I really, truly, am glad youve found Barry.

Her mother laughed and hugged her. You didnt ruin Thanksgiving! Barry liked you, and
hes
been apologizing ever since for being so stiff you probably thought he was carved out of wood.

Really?

As slim as Fiona, with stylishly cut hair that was being defiantly allowed to go gray, her mother laughed again. Really.

Can we give it another try?

Of course we can! Her mothers dark eyes softened. How was your trip?

Shed intended to lie, say, It was great! But this was her mom, and when Fiona opened her mouth, nothing at all came out. Her mouth worked, and the next thing she knew tears were running down her face.

Her mother took her in her arms and let her cry, just as she had when the first boy whod ever asked Fiona out had stood her up. This time, because she was an adulther heart and not just her pride had been woundedthe tears couldnt wash away her misery, and her mothers comforting arms didnt convince her that all would be well.

But she did feel marginally better when she finally drew back. Oh, no, I can imagine what I look like! she said, and fled to the bathroom.

Face washed, she sat with her mother on the couch and told her about John, his pride, his silences and the banked anger that scared her, as well as about his kindness, his ready ear, his intelligence and patience.

I really thought She couldnt finish.

He was the one? her mother asked softly.

Fiona nodded.

Maybe he is. Maybe
you
need to be patient.

I think She bit down hard on her lip, tasting blood. I hurt his pride, Mom. I doubt he can forgive me that.

Justleave the door open. Somehow, let him know it is open. Thats my advice, for what its worth. Now her tone changed, although her expression stayed kind what do you say we sit down to eat?

On the first day back to school, Erin asked Fiona shyly if shed seen Mr. Fallon over the break. Several of the students knew that he and she had been e-mailing back and forth.

Yes, I went up there for a few days, she admitted. He kept my room for me. So, okay, she hadnt used it. That wasnt the kind of thing you told a teenager. Wasnt that sweet?

Thats so cool! I wish I could have gone with you instead of She stopped.

Instead of?

Oh, my parents mostly worked. I know they had to, but it was boring. She shrugged. Thats okay. I had to work on college applications anyway.

They talked about those, and about the recommendation Fiona was going to write for her. Then Erin left with her customary poise. Recognizing loneliness when she saw it, Fiona was sad watching her go.

Over the next few weeks, Fiona kept thinking about her mothers advice. Would allowing herself to hope that she and John could somehow reconnect keep her
from moving on? If she wanted to leave the door open, what would she use to prop it ajar? A note? An e-mail?

Maybe because of her dads infidelity and her parents troubles, of which shed been all too aware, Fiona prided herself on her ability to accept life as it came. In this case, she had a choice: she could marry a man who would never really talk to her and live in an isolated lodge doing laundry, changing beds and serving guests. Or she could walk away from him, choose the career she loved, the graduate degree that meant something to her, the relationships she had with students, friends and her mother. Shed already made her choice the day shed driven away from Thunder Mountain Lodge. Now all she had to do was put the sense of loss behind her.

In the middle of January, however, she did send an e-mail.

John

Even her fingers hesitated.

If you ever want to talk, you know how to reach me.

Resisting tears, she typed,
Love, Fiona,
and hit Send.

Her heart pounded when she checked her e-mail the next day, and the day after that. She felt that same hope every time she went online that week, and even into the next week. But John never replied, and she finally gave up expecting him to.

In mid-March, two things happened on the same day. The first was that she got asked out on a date. Chad
Scammell had arrived at Willamette Prep as a new vice principal the previous fall after having taught math in the public schools. Around her age, hed been friendly from the start, and shed reciprocated. She offered insight into the different culture in a high-end private school, while he was available to talk about kids who worried her.

Hed wandered by her classroom during her grading/lunch period that day, as he often did, and sat on a front row desk chatting while she ate the sandwich and sliced apple shed packed.

She was starting to think that the students would be returning soon when he said, I keep worrying about things like sexual harassment, so I want you to know that if you say no, Ill listen.

Huh? Fiona blinked in bewilderment.

I wondered if youd consider having dinner with me sometime.

Now she understood. No wonder he worried about how she would take the invitation. They werent just colleagues; he was technically her superior in the school hierarchy.

Have dinner with him?

Fiona hadnt thought of him as a potential date, but now that she considered it, she wasnt sure why. He was handsomein the way of a high school football player all grown up. A little beefy still, neck thick enough that buying shirts had to be a challenge, but he was also smart, entertaining and nice. Shed never felt any spark, but

Rebellion stirred. She had to start somewhere, didnt she? What were the odds shed ever hear from John
Fallon again? So, okay, she thought about him often, worried about him, dreamed about him. It was time she started thinking about someone else.

Yes, she said. Id like that, Chad. Im free this weekend.

The bell rang, and they were just finishing making plans when students started filtering into the classroom. He covered her hand briefly with his, smiled and left. Fiona sat there for a minute, wishing she could feel a glow of anticipation. It took more than the usual effort to concentrate on teaching the class.