Winter Chill (8 page)

CHAPTER 9

Marian sat up and turned off the alarm. It was very early. The room was still dark.

Dan was sleeping soundly, the blankets snug around his body. Marian longed for that same comfort. The urge to cuddle up to Dan and go back to sleep was very strong. She wanted to wrap herself in warm covers and sleep the whole day away.

Even though it was torture, she pushed her feet out from under the blankets. The cold air shocked her into some semblance of a wakeful state. She crawled out of bed and got into her robe.

Marian stumbled slightly in the early morning grayness. The house was cold, chilled with the night, and she turned the thermostat up a bit. Heat was an extravagance in the far north, but she’d be damned if she’d freeze before she had her first cup of coffee.

The linoleum floor was cold on her bare feet as she hurried across the kitchen, walking on tiptoe to minimize the discomfort. She plugged in the coffeepot and took down a cup, shivering slightly. Then she sat on a kitchen chair, feet tucked up under her robe, too uncomfortable to fall asleep but too sleepy to really wake.

The coffee was finally ready, scalding and aromatic in her cup. She took a cautious sip and grimaced as she burned her tongue. It was Friday, the last day before Christmas vacation. And she was supposed to arrive early to organize the children’s Christmas party.

She dressed in front of the register, letting the warm, musty furnace air blow over her body. No time for a shower. No time to do her hair. Everything had to go smoothly now, or they’d be late. Make breakfast, help Dan dress, gather up the presents for her class that she’d wrapped last night, pick up her books, find Dan’s books, remember to take the sheet music for Christmas carols, and pack the cookies she’d baked for the faculty lounge.

Marian took a moment, one precious moment, to do absolutely nothing. She opened the back door and stood there in the frosty cold, breathing deeply. Her breath puffed out in little white clouds as she stood silent and watched the sun lengthening over the banks of plowed snow. A dog barked somewhere in the stillness. A truck rumbled by on Main Street. There was the sound of a door slamming somewhere in the distance. Everywhere in town, people were rising, getting ready for work, making breakfast and straightening bedcovers, exchanging morning greetings over cups of strong coffee. Life was good here . . . or it had once been good.

“You’ll come, won’t you, Mrs. Larsen?” Jenny stood at the classroom door, her new pencils clutched tightly in her hand.
JENNY FROM MRS. LARSEN,
they proclaimed in gold lettering. Every student had five, a special Christmas present from their teacher.

“I’ll try, honey,” Marian promised. “It all depends on how Dan feels.”

“Mom said to make you come,” Jenny announced. “She said my daddy’d come in and carry Dan if he had to. Christmas Eve won’t be any fun without you. You always come on Christmas Eve!”

“All right, I’ll come.” Marian couldn’t resist Jenny’s pleading. She’d talk Dan into it somehow. And if he wouldn’t be budged, she’d go by herself for a few minutes.

“Merry Christmas!” Jenny called out, scampering down the hall. “I’m taking the bus today. My mom said it was good for me to be independent. She’s in the teachers’ lounge, waiting for you.”

 

 

“A pack of Christmas dish towels.” Sally was stacking up her gifts, displaying them for Midge and Edith. “And here’s another pair of red and green Christmas-tree earrings. Say . . . do you gals know anyone with pierced ears?”

“I got handkerchiefs this year,” Marian announced brightly, setting down her coffee to unfold a hideous poinsettia-printed square. “And oodles of talcum powder. I wonder if my kids are trying to give me some sort of hint.”

“It’s the mothers.” Edith spoke with authority. “They give you whatever they got last year and didn’t want to keep.”

Midge Carlson, the only first-year teacher in the bunch, spoke up. “I think it’s sweet. Mrs. Barnes gave me a fruitcake. There was a little note saying it was wrapped in brandy. She hoped I wouldn’t mind.”

Marian and Sally looked at each other and laughed.

“Keep it in your top closet for a month,” Sally advised. “Then, when things get rough around the end of January, cut off a little piece during recess. Edith and I know. Mrs. Barnes’s fruitcakes actually make teaching bearable.”

“Oh, Marian?” Sally looked perturbed as she turned to Marian. “I’m afraid I have to renege on the party tonight. Jenny was supposed to spend the night with Ginger, but that fell through and I can’t get a baby-sitter. It looks like I’ll have to stay home.”

“How about Ronnie?” Edith suggested. “Put him to work as a baby-sitter.”

“Ronnie’s tied up in a poker game with Dan.” Sally rolled her eyes. “By the time he gets home, the party will be over. But you shouldn’t miss the party, Marian. Why don’t you go without me?”

“You can go with us,” Midge offered. “Edith and I are going to stay until it gets rowdy.”

“I’ll let you know.” Marian glanced at the clock and gathered up her things. “I’ve got to run now. Dan’s last class is out in ten minutes.”

Marian walked out to the deserted parking lot and started the heater in the van. The elementary-school teachers were already gone, and high-school classes were in session for another five minutes. Marian had developed the habit of leaving a little early and warming the van before Dan came out. Cliff Heller always brought him to the parking lot and helped to get the wheelchair in the van. With the hydraulic lift Jim had installed, it was a simple matter to disembark at home.

Crowds of happy students streamed out of the school, throwing snowballs and shouting. School was out for two weeks. No homework and no studying. Christmas vacation was here.

Marian had a bad feeling about this particular Christmas vacation. It seemed Sally’s news was an omen of disappointments to come. She had been looking forward to the teachers’ party, the laughter and the noise, the good-natured ribbing and fellowship. She supposed she could go with Edith and Midge, but it wouldn’t be the same without Sally. They had been together at every teachers’ Christmas party for the past nine years.

He was coming now. Marian backed the van out a little so Cliff would have a nice flat place to wheel Dan. Connie Bergstrom was with him, and she waved at Marian. Connie was a sweet girl, the best teacher’s aide Marian had ever had. They were a good-looking couple, Cliff and Connie. Laura loved to have them for baby-sitters. Marian wondered if she and Dan had ever looked that young and that in love.

Dan looked tired as he waved at her. He must have had a hard day. Perhaps he’d want to take a nap until Ronnie and the guys arrived.

Of course, she wouldn’t be able to relax until later. Marian’s shoulders slumped slightly in resignation. She had to clean up the house and buy some snacks for the poker party tonight. That meant dropping off Dan at home and going to the crowded supermarket for cheese and pretzels. They’d want pizza, too. She’d have to remember that.

Marian yawned. Now that she thought about it, she was tired, too. It had been a hectic day. Her class had been rambunctious, but that was normal for a party day. Actually, the Christmas party had gone very well. Three mothers had shown up as chaperones, and they had all brought refreshments. Everyone had had a good time except Marian.

She had managed to hide her sadness when they opened their presents. She had smiled and taken part in the games. But throughout the party, she had thought of Laura. Laura loved Christmas. Parties were no fun without her baby.

 

 

The guys arrived at seven. Ronnie carried in two cases of beer and found room for them in the refrigerator.

Gus Olson was already shuffling the cards when she went into the den. He had on a green eyeshade, and one of Ronnie’s awful cigars was clamped in his mouth.

“Shall we deal you in, Marian? Dan says you’re a mean poker player.”

Marian grinned. “Thanks, but I’ll pass. Edith just called. She wants me to come to the teachers’ party.”

“It’ll do you good to go out.” Ronnie nodded sagely. “You want her to go, don’t you, Dan?”

“Well . . . sure! Of course I do.”

There was a hesitation in his voice, and Marian turned to look at him sharply.

“I won’t go if you want me to stay here, honey. The party doesn’t really matter to me.”

“No, you should go,” Jim Sorensen said. “If you leave, we don’t have to watch our language.”

“Go ahead, Marian. I don’t mind. Just don’t kiss anyone under the mistletoe.”

He was joking, but there was a warning in his voice. Marian heard it and knew what it meant. Drew would be at the party. Dan was still a little worried about Drew.

“Are you sure?” Marian bent over his wheelchair and whispered softly in his ear. “Really, Dan. I don’t want to go if you’ll be upset.”

Dan reached out and patted her on the fanny. He winked at the guys and spoke loud enough for them to hear.

“Put on a pretty dress and get out of here, Marian. We’ve got poker to play. Just make sure you’re home by one so you can bail me out if I get short of money.”

They were kidding back and forth as she went upstairs to dress. Their loud voices and laughter sounded good in the house. It was wonderful to see Dan having a good time, and she felt a surge of excitement as she thought about the party. Maybe it would be fun, after all.

 

 

Marian drove up in back of the Elks Lodge and parked in the lot. Quite a few people were here. She recognized Edith’s yellow Honda and Harvey Woodruff’s green VW bug. She’d put in a token appearance and go right back home. It made her feel strange to go to a party without Dan.

The parking lot was slippery, and Marian picked her way across the ruts of packed snow, a bit unsure of her footing in high heels. She had thought there’d be a place nearer to the entrance. The sounds of the traffic on the highway a block away were muted by the snow. It was falling again, in lazy, heavy, white flakes. The snowplows would be out tomorrow.

As she opened the door, a blast of heated air and loud music rolled out to greet her. Harvey had hired Fred Norby’s band again this year, and they were even louder than she remembered. Fred seemed to make up for a lack of talent with sheer volume, but he knew every piece on request. The band wasn’t good, but they were fun. Fred could liven up any party after he’d downed a couple of drinks.

“Nice job of decorations!” Marian shouted over the din. Edith rushed up, beaming. She was the head of the decoration committee, and Marian had to admit the Elks Lodge had never looked so festive. Branches of evergreen hung from the rafters, interspersed with strings of lights and Christmas ornaments. There was a red candle at each table, surrounded by pinecones and a sprig of holly. And in the center of the dance floor, an enormous bunch of mistletoe hung suspended from the center beam.

“I think the lights make this big old place look much cozier.” Edith was shouting, too, trying to compete with Fred’s music. “I’m glad you came, Marian. Go up to the bar and get yourself some eggnog. It’s very good this year.”

The eggnog
was
good. Marian walked from table to table, chatting. Everyone seemed glad to see her, replenishing her eggnog glass every time it was partially empty. Without quite meaning to, Marian was beginning to get a little tipsy. They must have made the eggnog a lot stronger this year.

She was sitting with Edith and Midge when Harvey came to claim his yearly dance. Marian smiled and suffered through the ordeal. She was absolutely sure the principal’s story about being a dance teacher in his youth was pure fabrication. Harvey whirled her around the floor with no discernible rhythm until Marian thought she would surely slip and fall. At least Fred Norby was on her side. The number was short, and her duty was done for another year.

“My turn.” Marian turned to find Drew standing behind her. “Come on, Marian. It’s the last chance I’ll have to dance with you.”

The moment was sad, but Fred’s music sounded unusually mellow and Marian smiled as Drew led her in a slow waltz. Her head was spinning from the eggnog, and the bright little Christmas-tree lights seemed to dim, enclosing them in an intimate glow.

“Kiss that pretty lady! You’re right under the mistletoe.” Fred spoke into the microphone. Several teachers nearby cheered him on, and Drew planted a quick kiss on her cheek. Even though the kiss was perfectly innocent, Marian was very glad when they started dancing again.

 

 

“I’ll open for a nickel.” Ronnie grinned at Dan and winked. “Big spender, huh?”

“I’m in.” Gus Olson tossed a nickel to the center of the table. “How about you, Dan? Is that a little smile I see?”

“Just trying to fake you guys out.” Dan tossed in a nickel and laughed.

“Sure . . . I know that expression.” Jim Sorensen leaned back in his chair and rubbed his blond beard. “Okay, I’m in, but the next cards had better be good. Louise’ll kill me if I lose too much tonight.”