Looking for Julie (18 page)

“How does he know me?” Thad asked.

“He said he saw you at a LGBT meeting.”

Thad turned red and studied the floor between his huge feet.

“Hey, we’re members too,” Karen said.

“My roommate doesn’t know. I could get kicked out of ROTC.”

Ah, that was why he was such a neatie, Sam thought. “We won’t tell anyone.”

He looked at them. “What about you? Didn’t you say this DeWitt guy attacked you too?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, “but he’s really after Jamie.” She couldn’t afford to pay someone to follow her around, and she didn’t want to ask her parents for money. If they thought she was in danger, they’d probably make her go home.

“I’m her bodyguard.” Karen smiled.

Thad scribbled a phone number on a piece of paper and thrust it at Sam. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Hey, thanks,” she and Karen said at once.

They went back to Jamie’s room, scrounged for clean sheets, and put them on the bed, placing a towel over the middle. Sex was something Sam was still learning, but she no longer came with the slightest touch as she had at first.

She raked her fingers through Karen’s short hair, making a mess of it as they stretched out on the bed, already kissing, already naked. She squirmed closer as Karen’s hand moved over her—slow, teasing—making Sam gasp and forget what she was doing. Karen’s fingers slid between her legs and began that gentle caress, creating a pleasure that was almost painful in its intensity. Lost in the exquisiteness of it all she could only copy Karen’s moves. She thought, when it was over, that she had been a poor imitation.

“I like having this room,” Karen said, “no one barging in to see what we’re doing, no hiding under the covers.”

Sam tingled with pleasure. Her only regret was that the act was so short-lived.

Karen sighed and stretched. “We’ll give it the taste test next time. Okay?”

Sam had been horribly worried the first time they had done it that way. All those jokes about smelling fishy had made her cringe, but she hadn’t noticed anything except the nearly unbearable pleasure and her inability to hold off climax. She had thought until then that there could be nothing more exciting than Karen’s touch.

Afterward, she and Karen tried to study, but they both fell asleep. At midnight they got up and ate Jamie’s store of Twinkies and potato chips. Sam kept track, so that she could replace the hoard.

When she felt her phone vibrating against her ribs the next morning, she answered without looking. “Hey,” she said sleepily. Karen was gone from the bed. She’d had an early class.

“I forgot something and went back to the apartment to get it. Someone had broken in,” Nita said in a rush. “All of our drawers were dumped, like he was looking for something.  I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. You took your computer, didn’t you?”

She’d snapped awake. She went nowhere without her computer. Chill bumps scurried across her skin and fear momentarily paralyzed her mind. What had been in her desk drawers? Any ID? Were there any letters from home with the return address? Usually, she corresponded with her family via the web, but she thought there had been a card from her mother.

“I grabbed everything and put it in a bag, but he could have gone through the stuff. Look, I’m coming to the dorm now. Call that policewoman. Okay?”

She felt a little thrill that Nita had called her, that she was coming over, that there was this connection between the two of them. Rummaging through her backpack she found her checkbook and credit card and her driver’s license—all safely in her wallet. She did her banking online.

Nita knocked once and opened the door. Carmen was with her, and Sam’s joy at possibly forging a new bond with Nita vanished. She wondered why she had even been excited. She’d assumed that Nita was history for her.

“That fucking Jamie,” Nita said. “Did you call the police?”

Sam nodded. She’d left a message for Officer Dana.

Dana phoned as they stood in Jamie’s bedroom. She said they wanted to comb the apartment for fingerprints. If they found DeWitt’s prints, there would be a warrant out for his arrest. Could Sam or Nita meet them at the apartment?

“Now?” she asked, glancing at her watch. She had a class in less than an hour. The learning disabilities class she couldn’t afford to miss after nearly flunking the last test.

Nita tossed her dark hair and said, “If you can’t go, we’ll meet her there.”

Edie spent the week working. She added fifteen pages, but there were more scenes between Elizabeth and Mary Ann than Elizabeth and Don. Her editor e-mailed to ask how the book was progressing, and she admitted there were problems. She didn’t like Don. Make him more likeable, her editor said. She decided that Mary Ann would have to move away to give Don a better chance.

Claire called when she was leaving to meet Lynn for Friday night fish. As always, she felt a rush of excitement.

Claire said, “Pam told me you were in Madison. Why didn’t you call?”

“Jamie was hospitalized. I went to see him, then came back home to work.”

Silence. “When are you coming back?” No questions about what had happened to Jamie. Maybe she knew. Lynn had probably told Frankie and one of them had told Pam. “What are you doing this weekend? I think there’s a meeting.”

“I’m skiing on Saturday.”

“Alone?”

“No. With Jennifer and Chip. You met Jennifer.”

“Who is Chip?”

“I think he’s Jennifer’s husband.”

“Oh, well, break a leg as they say.”

“Claire? Are you there?” But she had hung up, and Edie resisted the urge to call her back, to ask her to come with them. She knew where that would lead.

On Saturday morning she awoke when the radio turned itself on. She made coffee, showered and ate breakfast before putting her ski bag and backpack in the car. When she reached Wausau, night had turned into day. She found Jennifer’s house easily.

Chip flung the door open. “Hi. Great day for skiing, huh?” His grin was contagious, but what caught her eye was how much he looked like Jennifer—the same light brown eyes and reddish brown hair. He was tall, too, maybe six foot two.

He called, “Hey, Jen, Edie’s here.”

“Hi, Edie. Come in and have a cup of coffee,” Jennifer hollered.

She walked ahead of Chip into a large kitchen with big old windows, a yellow linoleum floor and white painted cupboards.

“Hey,” she said with a big smile, shaking her head at the coffee. “I’m already floating.”

“Okay, we’ll take it with us.” Jennifer poured the contents of the glass pot into a thermos. “You know my brother, Chip, don’t you?”

Edie smiled. “I always thought he was your husband till today when I took a good look at him.”

“No, there’s no husband.” Jennifer smiled wryly.

“She’s the only one who can almost keep up with me. That’s why we usually ski together,” he said.

“What do you mean almost.” Jennifer punched him lightly on the arm.

Chip drove. Jennifer sat in the front of the Subaru. Edie stared out the window at tall pines and alders and blinding snow under a cold blue sky. Last night at dinner, Lynn had suggested she surround herself with other people, when not writing, as a way to fill the empty spot Claire had so quickly created. Claire was an ache that she wouldn’t even admit to Lynn. She’d never get over her if she kept calling.

The sun shone brightly without warmth. She and Jennifer followed Chip through the wooded trails. She shed outer clothing as she went—stuffing her hat into her windbreaker pockets, then tying the jacket around her waist. She thought of nothing but the terrain as they skated up and down hills. At lunchtime, they stomped into the warming house, the snow from their boots pooling into steaming puddles. It was a late lunch and they found a table to sit at with two others.

Edie had worried that she wouldn’t be able to keep up with them and was exhilarated that she was skiing right on their heels. When they went outside again, the cold energized her.

They quit when the ski area closed, and after equipment and backpacks were loaded, Jennifer climbed behind the wheel. She stopped in Minocqua for gas and Edie tried to give her money, but she waved it away. “Next time you can drive,” she said and asked, “Do you want to ski somewhere local tomorrow?”

Edie was pleased. She was planning to go to Standing Rock and said so, “Unless you’d rather go elsewhere?”

“No, that’s good. It’s enough of a challenge.”

On the way home when Chip’s head lolled against the window and Edie started to drift off, Jennifer said, “I know you write books, which I think is awesome, and I don’t use that word often. Where can I find one to read?”

Edie came fully awake and met Jennifer’s eyes in the rearview mirror. She had been dreading this. Her book covers, which often were a man and woman in embrace, embarrassed her as did the dramatic jacket copy, but she answered as she always did, “I write under a pseudonym—Lauren James. You can find my books just about anywhere.”

“That’s really cool. Are you in the library?” Then, “No, I should buy one.”

“Try the library first.” That was also what she told everyone who asked. She didn’t want anyone spending money on something she might not like. Ninety-nine percent of her audience was women. To change the subject she asked about Chip.

“I’m a pharmacist, like Jennifer.” He apparently hadn’t been asleep at all, and he turned and smiled at her. “Boring, compared to being a writer.”

She said, “What I do can be stupefying. How did it happen that you do the same thing?”

“Coincidence or maybe it’s because we’re twins,” Jennifer said, glancing at her brother.

At ten the next day Edie was in the warming house at Standing Rock, putting on her boots and talking to people she knew, when Jennifer came through the door. She raised a hand and Jennifer strode toward her. She was a striking woman, Edie thought—the commanding stature and reddish hair, even her wide smile made heads turn.

“Where’s Chip today?” she asked as Jennifer sat down next to her.

“He went to Granite Peak with some friends. He actually likes downhill better than cross-country.”

“Do you?” Edie preferred cross-country to the often-crowded slopes and lifts of Granite Peak.

“Not really. How about you?” She slipped out of her Sorrels and put on her ski boots.

Edie shook her head. “This is so much cheaper and there are no lift lines, although I do go downhill on occasion.”

After skate skiing around the wide trails twice, they put on diagonal skis and stayed in the tracks.  When the ski area closed and they were again in the warming house, taking off their boots, Jennifer said she had bought one of Edie’s books that morning—
The Beach House
.

“I couldn’t wait till the library opened.” She was smiling.

Edie noticed a sprinkling of freckles on her cheeks and nose. “I hope you’re not disappointed.”

“Want to ski next weekend? We can talk about your book.” She lifted eyebrows that were the same color as her hair.

“I don’t think there’s that much to discuss.” Edie got to her feet. “I write to entertain.” And to pay the bills, but she didn’t say that.

“Hey, don’t put yourself down. I think writing three hundred pages about anything is amazing,” Jennifer said as they walked outside.

There was a feel of impending spring in the air. Too often the snow turned soft and sticky or melted and froze, taking the fun out of skiing. They both paused and looked at the darkening sky. Stars were beginning to appear.

She said, “I think we need a good snowstorm.”

“A blizzard.” Jennifer agreed.

“That would be awesome,” Edie said with a laugh.

“I’ll call you later in the week now that I have your cell number. Okay?”

At home, Edie turned on the lights and built a fire. She picked up
The
Beach House
and paged through it. She considered it one of her better books. Actually, it was pretty hot stuff, even for her, but sex was in the mind. All you had to do was create the right venue. Now if she could just do that with
Midnight Magic
.

She had been getting vibes from Jennifer.  Even before she found out that Chip was Jennifer’s brother, she had wondered. She was pretty sure that Jennifer had some interest in her. Why else would she to want to ski with her two weekends in a row? Would she even call after reading
The Beach House?
Edie sighed. She hoped she hadn’t shot holes in their fledgling friendship, but she couldn’t lie about her books. That would be denying what she did.

The next day she was at her computer early, trying to make Mary Ann say goodbye to Elizabeth.

“But you’re my best friend,” Elizabeth said with tears in her eyes.
Too corny, she thought and deleted the
tears in her eyes
.

“I’ll miss you more than you know,” Mary Ann replied, “but I’ve always wanted to be a principal. You can visit.”
She dropped the
more than you know.