The Snow Globe (6 page)

Saturday she half expected Craig to call, but he didn't. Well, he was trying to start a business. He'd probably call on Sunday. That night, before she went to bed, Kiley couldn't help visiting her magical snow globe one more time, and giving it a shake. As before, the snowstorm she started cleared, and again showed Craig's toyshop, but now there he was, too, standing in the doorway. It looked as if he was smiling at her. She gave the decoration a loving pat, and went to bed to dream.

Sunday was glorious. The snow fell all night, forcing busy city dwellers to slow down and enjoy life. Kiley was all for that. She dug out a pair of boots she hadn't used in years and donned her parka, hat, and gloves. Then she went out to put her mark on the pristine blanket that covered the sidewalk in front of her condo.

How different the city looked. The Space Needle reigned over a kingdom of white with snow-topped houses that made her think of the gingerbread artwork she loved to see on display
at the downtown Sheraton Hotel every Christmas. Cement disappeared under a white carpet, and trees and shrubs sported lacy shawls. Laughter echoed to her on the crisp air.

She hadn't walked far before she saw a group of children building a snowman. They had given him a smile made of small rocks and popped two larger ones above it for eyes. Someone's mother had seen fit to donate a carrot for the cause, which they had used for a nose, and they'd found branches for his arms. But he was sadly lacking in wardrobe.

Inspired, Kiley stopped and offered them her knitted hat. Now her hair would go crazy, but oh, well.

“Wow, thanks!” said one of the girls. She took Kiley's offering and settled it on the snowman's head.

“That's a girl's hat,” protested one of the older boys, eyeing the pink pompom at the tip of it in disgust.

“So?” retorted the girl.

“So boys don't wear hats like that,” said the dissenter.

Neither did girls with any fashion sense, thought Kiley. It was a stocking cap that looked like the world's ugliest rainbow Popsicle. In short, it was the kind of hat that would have inspired the
What Not to Wear
duo to great heights of sarcasm. The only reason Kiley had donned the thing was because it was warm. Allison had made it for her a couple of Christmases ago, when her grandma was teaching her to knit combining different colored yarns, and Kiley had kept it out of a sense of girlfriend duty. Getting rid of it to support budding artists was, if Kiley did say so herself, brilliant.

Meanwhile, the battle over whether a wild colored chick hat
was acceptable snowman attire raged on. Finally the girl who had accepted it wadded a couple of handfuls of snow into a giant snowball.

Uh-oh, thought Kiley with a smile.

But instead of throwing it the girl pushed her lump of snow onto one side of the snowman's chest, saying, “Then we'll make it a girl.”

The other children giggled and the dissenter pitched in to help give the snowman a sex change.

Oh, that all disagreements could so easily be solved, thought Kiley, and walked on. If that had been her and Corey and Gwinnie they'd have been pelting each other with snowballs until someone gave in—usually her or Gwinnie.

Gwinnie. Would she wind up at Jeremy's place today, curled up on his couch, watching movies? Would he make cocoa for her?

Did Kiley really care anymore? She smiled. No.

Her ears were starting to burn from the cold. Time to go home and pull a packet of hot cocoa mix out of the cupboard. She didn't need a man to make it for her.

Although she wouldn't object if a certain toyshop owner offered.

Back home she checked her cell for messages. Nothing from Craig Peters. He probably had to go shovel snow for his mother. Or something.

She did have one message, though. “Okay, what is going on?” Suzanne demanded. “Call me and fill me in. I'm snowed in so I'll be here.”

To smother Kiley's good mood under an avalanche of skepticism. She looked out her condo window at the wintry scene and sighed. It wouldn't last long. The fat, white drops lazily floating down would soon turn silver as temperatures rose, and rain would turn the pretty snow to slush. Then the fluke snowstorm would be gone as quickly as it had come and everything would be back to normal. Meanwhile, though, the view outside her window was storybook wonderful.

She decided she'd deal with Suzanne later. After she'd heard from Craig. He had all day.

She pulled out her favorite Starbucks mug and made herself some cocoa, then moved to her couch, where her cat Furina was already lounging. She and Jeremy had picked out this couch together—sage-colored microfiber, and on sale. It had been one of their first purchases for their new life.

Try not to think of it as losing a boyfriend but as gaining a couch, she'd told herself after they broke up. Now she told herself that maybe soon she'd have a new boyfriend to share her couch.

Furina let Kiley settle in with her cocoa before lazily stretching and relocating to Kiley's lap. Like all well-trained owners, Kiley knew what to do. She started petting the longhaired calico. “Yeah, I know. You just happened to be in the neighborhood and thought you'd drop in. Right?”

Furina purred as if to say,
Talk all you want but keep petting. My wish is your command.

Furina had never warmed to Jeremy. She had mostly kept her distance and the few times he tried to pet her, she'd hissed at him.

“Maybe you were smarter than me,” Kiley mused.

Furina purred on.
Yes, I am, but I love you anyway
.

“Well, it's a new day,” Kiley murmured.

And, as if to prove it, her cell rang again.

Kiley's heartbeat picked up in anticipation and she snatched the phone from her coffee table. She looked at the screen and felt her spirits deflate. Suzanne again. “May as well get this over with, huh?” she said to Furina.

Suzanne barely gave her time to say hello. “Okay, what's this I hear about that snow globe helping you find the perfect man? Was Allison high on scented candles or something?”

“No,” said Kiley with a frown.

“Look, I know you've had a rough month and—”

Kiley cut her off. “Friday wasn't just wishful thinking. It really happened and Allison is my eyewitness.”

“She saw the toyshop in the snow globe?”

“No, but—”

“So, the only person who saw it was you? Maybe you just imagined you saw it,” Suz suggested.

“If I only imagined I saw it, how did I find it?” demanded Kiley.

“I don't know,” Suz admitted. “That part is weird.”

“And what about the man I met?”

“Coincidence,” Suzanne countered.

“Well, that's some coincidence,” said Kiley.

“It's the only rational explanation.”

When were miracles ever rational?

“Look, I just don't want you to rush into anything,” Suzanne
said, her voice softening. “After everything with Jeremy, well, you're vulnerable.”

Jeremy. Her friends hadn't liked him any more than her cat. What vibes had they picked up on that she hadn't? Had she been so anxious to find someone that she'd dulled her senses? Was she doing the same thing now with Craig?

Kiley relocated Furina from her lap to the couch. Insulted, the cat jumped down and stalked off, asserting her independence. Kiley ignored her and went to the bedroom to where her snow globe occupied prime real estate on her dresser. The Alpine village was back once more. Suzanne was still talking, but Kiley tuned her out. Instead, she listened to the voice somewhere at the back of her mind that whispered,
Shake me.

So she did. The little curtain of snow fell away and again she saw the Seattle toyshop and Craig Peters standing in the doorway. And…what was this? Someone new had joined him: a woman with long, curly brown hair who looked suspiciously like her. “Oh, my gosh,” she gasped. “It's changed again.”

“What?” Suz demanded. “What do you mean?”

“I'm in it. I'm in the snow globe with Craig.”

“I don't like this,” Suzanne said in a low voice. “I'm coming over.”

“You don't drive in the snow,” Kiley reminded her.
Thank God
.

“I just heard the weather report. It will be slush by afternoon. I'll be there.”

“Goody,” muttered Kiley as she ended the call. She wandered back out into the great room area and saw that Furina was now
prowling the kitchen counter. “You know better,” Kiley scolded, and lifted Her Majesty off it.

Offended yet again, Furina jumped from her arms and returned to the couch, curling up on the afghan Allison had made Kiley as a housewarming present. Of course, she would leave as much fur on the cream-colored blanket as possible. Kitty revenge.

Kiley had barely reheated her cocoa when the phone rang. This time—big surprise—it was Allison.

“I got tired of waiting for you to call. How was dinner?”

“Fabulous.”

“And what about the snow globe? Did you see anything new?”

“I did.” Happiness settled over Kiley like a cloak. She closed her eyes and savored the feeling. It was one she'd almost convinced herself she'd never have again. How wonderful it was to be wrong!

“What did you see?”

“Well, I saw the toyshop again. And Craig.”

“And?” prompted Allison.

“And a woman.”

“Was it you?”

“Yep.”

“Oh, my God. That is sooo romantic. I wish I'd bought the thing.”

“You already have a boyfriend,” Kiley reminded her.

Allison gave a little grunt. “Lamar, God's gift to womankind. Let me tell you, I'm not sure how much longer I'm going to have
him.”

So, Lamar was in the doghouse again. It happened on a regular basis, but he always charmed his way back out. Sometimes Kiley wondered if Allison kept the studly Lamar simply because she didn't want to part with his mother and grandmother, who were more like a family to her than the dysfunctional one she was stuck with.

“Anyway, never mind about him,” Allison said briskly. “Tell me more about Mr. Wonderful. What did you guys talk about at dinner?”

“Everything and anything. You know he grew up here in Seattle. Went to Ballard High. And he was on the track team.”

“A runner,” Allison crowed. “Perfect. Did he say he'd call you?”

“As a matter of fact, he did. I'm going to design a Web site for him, and I'll probably help him with his online store, too.”

“I'm so glad for you, Kiles,” said Allison. “And what an amazing way to find your perfect man. Except no one will ever believe it when they hear how you found him.”

“Suzanne sure doesn't,” Kiley said. She guessed she couldn't blame Suzanne. It did all sound pretty far-fetched. “She's coming over later to see for herself, thanks to a certain big mouth.”

“I know, I know,” said Allison. “I probably shouldn't have told her. But it's just so awesome. Maybe I'll have to come, too. I'm dying to see the snow globe in action.”

“Sure. Why not,” said Kiley, resigned to her fate. She'd nursed the hope of having company before the day was over. Only she'd envisioned someone with a lower voice and slightly different
body parts. She looked out the window to see that the white flakes had already morphed into silver slivers. Seattle's famous rain was back and soon the snow would be nothing but a pleasant memory, a weather anomaly to be discussed around water coolers and on morning walks around Green Lake. He could still call, still come.

“I'll bring brownies,” Allison offered. “I'm making a ton for Suz's holiday home tour.”

Allison was a physical therapist by day, but in her off hours she channeled Julia Childs, and she picked up extra money catering Suzanne's events.

Kiley's taste buds suddenly took an active interest in the conversation. “Those mint ones?”

“Those would be the ones. I'll see you later.”

All right. Chocolate mint brownies weren't on a par with spending the evening with Craig Peters, but she'd make do.

 

Suzanne was the first to arrive. “Thank God the snow is going away,” she said as she blew into the condo in a mist of perfume and style. Her red scarf was cashmere, the coat was a black wool number from Nordstrom's—not from the Rack, where Kiley occasionally prowled for bargains. The boots were from Nordy's, too. Suzanne had bragged about getting them on sale, although even on sale they'd been too rich for Kiley's blood. But Suzanne settled for only the best. She once said she'd walk barefoot before she'd buy bargain chain-store shoes.

“I kind of hate to see it melt so quickly,” Kiley said.

Suzanne frowned. “That's because you are currently unemployed and don't have to be anywhere.” She pulled off the scarf, shaking her blond hair free, then hung her coat in the closet where Furina couldn't reach it.

“You're self-employed,” Kiley reminded her. “You could take a day off.”

Suzanne shook her head and looked regretful. “Not if I want to pay my mortgage.”

She and Guy had bought and refurbished an old house on Magnolia. It had been about to go into foreclosure, and thanks to her real estate connections Suzanne had gotten it for a song. But the more she talked to the architect and interior designer the grander the song had gotten. Now she had a gorgeous house with refinished hardwood floors, crown molding, and expensive furniture that she enjoyed on the rare occasions she wasn't working. She also had huge payments, which gave her the perfect excuse to remain a workaholic.

“Anyway, I did take time off.” She whipped out her digital camera from her purse and displayed the evidence. “See?”

Yes, sure enough. There she was, rosy-cheeked and beautiful in jeans and a white parka, black mittens on her hands, a black cashmere scarf around her neck and a matching black tam on her head. Next to her, holding her hand, her daughter, Bryn, looked like a miniature Suzanne, bundled into a pink snowsuit, her golden curls poking out from under a pink hat.