Looking for Julie (21 page)

“Me too.” Edie set the cup back on the table.

“Don’t you like the coffee?”

“I guess I’m just not thirsty. What’s new?” she tried again.

“Work is a drag.”

This wasn’t a conversation. It was a prelude. She gave it another try. “What are you reading? Anything good?”

“Why are we talking about this stuff?”

“Because that’s what people do. They talk. I’d like to be a librarian. I love books.”

She smiled wryly. “I’ve read some of your books.”

Edie felt a flush starting to spread over her.

Claire laughed. “I like the way you blush. I never would have expected you to be a bit of a prude. Come on. Let’s go to bed. Show me how Mark made love to Tawnya.”

She searched her mind for a Mark and Tawnya without success.

“You don’t remember? He licked her ear and kissed her all over while she squirmed with pleasure.”

Edie stood next to the bed, trying to recall these characters, suspecting that Claire was making fun of her.

“You don’t remember, do you?” When Edie shook her head, Claire laughed. “I made them up. I should be a writer.” She pulled her top off and shook her head. Her hair crackled with electricity.

Edie looked at the breasts pushed up by the white bra, creating cleavage and bent to kiss the smooth skin. She unhooked the bra and let it slide off Claire’s arms while she knelt to bury her face in the freed breasts. With a hand on each she held them while she breathed in Claire’s odor—a hint of cologne, soap and Claire’s own scent.

She pulled down Claire’s leggings and sat her on the bed while she worked them off her feet. This time she started at the toes and moved slowly upward—kissing, tasting—until she reached Claire’s mouth. She buried her fingers in Claire’s hair and kissed her. Claire had scrambled back onto the bed, and Edie reversed direction.

When it was over, she lay beside Claire, staring at the ceiling, breathing heavily. Claire climbed on top of her. They did not fit well together, and Edie rolled them onto their sides. She smoothed Claire’s hair back. Her green eyes looked sleepy. She smiled.

“Do you want me to do that to you?”

If Claire had to ask, Edie was sure she didn’t want to perform that particular act. “It’s okay,” she said, and it was. She had gotten what she wanted.

She stayed the night. It was the first time she’d slept with Claire. Claire curled up tightly on one side of the queen-size bed and she on the other. In the morning, Edie awoke to Claire’s touch. “There’s time,” she said.

After, while Claire was showering, Edie made coffee. She would shower when she got home.

“When am I going to see you again?” Claire asked. They were eating toast.

“I don’t know. Next Wednesday?” She looked at Claire in a fitted top and slacks and wished there were more time. It was as if she couldn’t get enough of this woman, and it shamed her.

She fought to stay awake on the drive home, despite the cup of coffee. She’d been afraid she’d stray onto Claire’s side of the bed, incurring her displeasure, and hadn’t slept well. She hadn’t forgotten Claire saying she slept best alone, although she certainly seemed to sleep soundly—mouth open, periodically emitting little snores.

Thursday evening, when Edie was convinced she was never going to hear from her, Jennifer called. “Hey, is our ski date still on?”

Surprised at how relieved she was, she asked, “Where do you want to go?”

“How about Northern Highlands and Escanaba? We probably could do both.”

“I’ll pick you up. Is Chip going with us?”

“Maybe. What time?”

“Is seven early enough?”

“Sure. We should be skiing by nine. I’ve got to go. We’ll talk on Saturday. Okay?”

Not a word about the book—whether she’d read it, whether she’d liked it, whether she’d hated it. What had she been expecting anyway, a rave review? Had anyone ever raved about her books? She went through an inner dialogue like this whenever someone she knew was reading one of her novels.

Jennifer came out the front door as she drove into the driveway on Saturday. They loaded her ski equipment in the car. She threw her backpack in the back and climbed into the passenger seat. “Saw you coming,” she said with a grin.

“You must have been hanging around the front door.”

“I was. I’m a little worried about trail conditions. I hope it’s not gummy.”

“Or frozen, although that’s better than sticky.” She smiled. “How was your week?”

“Busy and a little boring. How was yours?”

“Busy too.” She had worked long days around her trip to see Claire and was pleased with her progress. Writing these books for some reason never got easier. She tried to build sexual tension between the main characters and at the same time create a story that kept the reader reading. In
Midnight Magic
, it was uncovering the deception of Don, Al coming to the rescue and Elizabeth’s discovery of her own inner strength—with Mary Ann’s help, of course.

“You’ve been writing, I suppose.” Jennifer was looking straight ahead. She said in a quiet voice, “I couldn’t put your book down. I never thought romances could be so interesting.”

How easy it was to make her happy
. Why couldn’t Claire say things like that? She smiled as a mixture of relief and happiness suffused her. “Thanks.”

“I mean it. How do you do it?”

She shrugged and glanced at Jennifer. “I start with a character and go from there. There is sort of a formula, though. Guy meets girl, guy and girl are attracted to each other, something keeps them apart, the guy and girl overcome the odds against them and get together in the end.”

“You make it sound so easy.” Jennifer said. Her smile was hesitant, and Edie was guessing the book had thrown her, that she had expected something different.

With a laugh more like a snort, she shook her head. “It’s not easy, but it feels good when someone likes a book I wrote. I don’t get much feedback.”

“Well, I liked it. I’ll have to read the rest. How many are there?”

“About twenty-five. You better go to the library.” She laughed a little again. “Look, don’t feel as if you have to read my books unless you really want to. I won’t care, one way or the other.” Not true, she thought. She’d be a little miffed, but she’d understand.

“No, I want to read them.”

“Okay, that’s great. Have you been watching the weather forecasts? It might snow tonight or it might rain.”

“I know. Speaking of snow would you like to bunk with us during the Birkie? Chip and I’ve got a cabin rented with Tom and Mike. We go up Thursday. Gives us time to look things over, meet old friends and have some fun. The only thing is you might have to share a room with me.”

“I have a place rented, but it’s a dormitory sort of thing, where I might end up on the floor. I’d much rather go with you and Chip.”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

The snow was packed and slick, the diagonal tracks close to the surface. Edie seldom worried about steep hills and sharp turns, but she felt as if she was a little out of control.  They ate lunch on their way to the Escanaba Trail.

“We better get some snow, not rain, next week,” she said as much to herself as to Jennifer.

“They’ll bring in snow if they have to.”

“I know.”

The Escanaba trail curved along lakes. It was a fast course, up and down hills. Halfway through their run a cold drizzle began to fall. Jennifer, who had taken the lead, picked up speed. Edie tucked her head and followed.

They were packing up Edie’s car by three thirty. Both were quiet at first on the way home. Finally, Jennifer said, “Well, that sucked. They probably should move the date of the Birkie to the end of January.”

“Winters are getting warmer.”

“Climate change, I suppose.” Said wryly. “What are you doing for dinner tonight?”

Edie shot her a surprised glance. “I don’t have plans.”

“Would you rather go out to eat or eat leftovers at my place?” Jennifer hastened to add, “You don’t have to do either, of course, but it would be nice to have company.”

“I lean toward the leftovers.” She liked this woman, who was so friendly and open. Claire, who was anything but friendly or open, popped into her thoughts.

“Great.”

The sleet had turned to light snow that melted when it hit the pavement. When she parked in Jennifer’s driveway, she grabbed Jennifer’s backpack, while Jennifer carried her ski bag inside. “I’ll just throw the backpack in my room and turn up the heat. Be right back. If you need to use the facilities, there is a bathroom down the hall to the kitchen.”

She used it before going into the kitchen. Jennifer was already there. She’d changed out of her ski pants and into jeans. Her hair curled around her ears and glowed red under the ceiling light.  “Would you like something to drink? We have beer, vodka, gin and more.”

“A beer would taste good.” She was thirsty.

“Dark? Light?”

She laughed. “You’re well stocked.”

“That’s Chip’s doing. He and his friends could arrive any minute. So be prepared. They take up a lot of space and they’re noisy.”

“Dark sounds good.”

“This was our parents’ house. They moved to Florida and left me in charge. Chip was still married then, living in his own place.” She smiled, her face lighting up.

“It’s a lovely house.” It was two stories with oak woodwork and wood floors.

“It’s too big even for the two of us, but we grew up in this house and I’ve always loved it. Besides, Chip has two kids, who are often here on weekends—a girl and a boy.”

She had wondered about Chip, who seemed to have no wife or girlfriend. “How old?”

“Eight and ten. They’re good little skiers and hikers. They’re fun to have around.”

“I bet.” She thought of Jamie, who was twenty. He’d been a fun little boy, too.

“Pasta campanella and salad and bread. How does that sound?”

“Wonderful. Can I help?” she asked.

“Nope. I just have to warm up the pasta. It’s better fresh and there’s no meat in it. Hope that’s okay.”

“I like pasta without meat.” Edie thought she’d eat anything right now, even Claire’s stale coffee and toast. She wondered if Claire made a fresh pot for Janine. Her cell was vibrating for the second time since her arrival. She ignored it.

She loved the pasta and said so.

“It’s easy. I’ll send you the recipe. It’s on my computer.”

Edie helped clean up the dishes. “I’d better go now,” she said afterward.

“Let’s just check out the weather.” Jennifer turned on the backyard light and peered out through gathering snow. “We were just saying we needed snow. Right? We could ski tomorrow at Nine Mile if you stayed the night. The roads are probably pretty nasty by now.”

The garage door opened and three men spilled into the kitchen. They brought in the cold and snow on their jackets. “Mike, Tom, this is Edie,” Chip said. “She writes books.”

The two men came forward to shake Edie’s hand. “Hope you don’t mind us barging in,” one of them said to Jennifer.

“I’m used to it.” Jennifer smiled.

Chip took three beers out of the fridge and gave two to his friends. “It was icy at Granite. But now it’s snowing like crazy.”

“It was icy up north, too. How are the roads?” Jennifer asked.

“You could skate on them. The snowplows are having trouble keeping up with the snow.” Chip opened the fridge and took out two frozen pizzas. He turned and grinned. “It’s awesome, isn’t it?”

Edie laughed. “If you mean the snow, yes.”

He raised his beer. “Thanks to whoever sent it.”

Jennifer smiled at Edie. “You must stay.”

She smiled back, said,  “I have to go outside and see how bad it is.” She grabbed her jacket and went out the front door. Her car already wore a thick blanket of snow—light, fluffy stuff. She stood for a moment, looking up, tasting the flakes.

Jennifer joined her, her jacket open, her arms spread wide, her face turned upward, too, in welcome. “I can’t let you to drive off in this.”

She looked at Jennifer, wondering how young she was. Thirties would be like robbing the cradle, but Claire had to be in her thirties. She nodded. “Okay. Thanks.” She didn’t want to end up in another snowbank. “I’ll get my backpack.”

When they went inside, Chip was building a fire in the huge fireplace that took up most of one side of the living room. They joined him and his friends and talked about everything and nothing till Edie was fighting sleep. She awoke to Jennifer’s hand on her shoulder.

“I’ll show you your room.” Her face was rosy in the firelight.

Edie looked around. Chip and his friends were gone. “I’m sorry.” How rude to fall asleep in the middle of everything.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. If we’re going to ski tomorrow, we better get some sleep.”

When she climbed under the covers in one of the upstairs bedrooms, she lay awake for what seemed a long time. She heard snoring from somewhere down the hall. Outside her window, the snow fell silently. It was too late to call Lynn back, but she knew Jamie would be awake at eleven o’clock, and his earlier call might have meant another emergency.