Snowbound (16 page)

He saw a sign that said Hawes Ferry, and his fingers flexed on the wheel. But he kept going. What would he say to Fiona now?
Im trying?
Not good enough.

The big old house where hed grown up was in the Rose City neighborhood in Portland. He went there first, not wanting to hurt his parents unnecessarily. He parked at the curb in front, and hed no sooner gotten out than he saw his mother flying down the porch steps.

John! You came! Her face was awash with tears by the time she reached him. I wasnt sure you would.

He returned her hug, feeling a little awkward, and more than a little remorseful. So much for convincing himself that his folks were busy people only mildly concerned by his new eccentricity. It would appear hed been breaking his mothers heart.

Patting her back, he said, Liz is a steamroller.

Dashing at her tears, she stepped back. Thats news to you?

No. I just didnt expect her to turn her energy onto me. Dont they keep her busy enough at the
Oregonian?

Did you see her series about chop shops? Theres talk of a Pulitzer prize.

Really? John took his bag out of the back and slammed the door. I did see it. Shes good.

She was drying her tears, thank God. The worst was past.

They walked up the driveway. Are you worried
about her being able to keep the lodge running? his mother asked.

No, John was able to say truthfully. Pity the guests. Shell dig their life stories out of them, and theyll find themselves on the front page when she gets back.

Connie Fallon laughed. Probably. Oh, Im so glad to see you! You look wonderful, John.

His fingers wanted to go to his scar. How had it gotten to be a habit, touching it every time he thought about it? And why hadnt he noticed he was doing it? This time, he resisted by curling his hand at his side. Thanks.

In hopes youd come today, I put a pot roast on. And of course I baked an apple pie. I wanted dinner to be your favorites.

Hell. It wouldnt have killed him to get down here a couple of times this past year. No matter what, he would do better, John vowed.

Forcing a smile, he said, Thanks, Mom. That sounds great. Uhwheres Dad?

Work. She made a face. Always work. The Hendersons had a burst pipe and their bathroom flooded. He should be done soon. Ill call to let him know youre here.

No, dont do that. Its good to have time with just you.

She teared up again. Daddyll be home by five.

How long since shed called his father that for his benefit? How long since shed
thought
of him as Johns daddy? Damn, he thought again; hed hurt her far worse than hed had any idea.

They had coffee in the kitchen, looking out at the backyard with her carefully pruned roses and the brick
patio he had helped his dad lay when hed been maybe twelve or thirteen. Bricks had weathered and chipped, and moss and some creeper his mother had turned loose now nibbled at the mortar and softened the edges.

He told her about innkeeping and the more unusual guests hed had, and bragged about his cooking.

Sparkling, delighted, his mother exclaimed, Ill let you demonstrate while youre home. Her face dimmed. Oh. I didnt think. You might not be planning to stay with us.

He was lost. He could no more tell his mother he didnt want to stay than he could have gone out and shot a doe for recreation.

Liz gave me the key to her place so I could water plants. Did she have any? But I was planning to stay here, if its okay with you.

His mother gave him a smile so radiant, it made his chest ache. I cant think of anything Id like more than to have you here. For however long you want to stay.

His eyes burned. I dont deserve you, Mom.

She half-stood so she could kiss his cheek. Of course you do! Never, never doubt it. You were a good boy, and youre a good man, John Fallon.

The women in his family seemed to know how to make him cry. Butfunny thingeach time, the tears seemed to cleanse him of bitterness and remind him of a humanity hed feared he no longer possessed.

T
HE DAY YOU GOT HURT
.

Until this moment, John couldnt have said what color the counselors eyes were. They werent startling
in any way. But damn could they pin him to his chair like a butterfly on a board.

Blue, he realized. They were a washed-out blue. To go with an ordinary face, brown hair, a body average in build and height and a rumpled sport shirt tucked into wrinkled khakis.

The guy didnt believe in leading gently up to the hard part. Say, a week from now. Maybe use this first session to get to know John, to exchange war stories. No, hed asked a few brisk questions. What unit? How much action had he seen? How many friends had died?

Ten minutes, tops. Now he looked at John and said, The day you got hurt. Whats your most vivid memory? Just a snapshot.

John felt like a phobic in a dentists chair waiting for the drill to descend. Pretending he was just fine, when his body was rigid. God, he wanted to bolt.

Fiona,
he thought desperately. Fiona.

Drawing a shallow breath, he said, Blood dripping down a soccer ball. Lying there wondering why it hadnt popped.

When you wake up at night screaming, what are you trying to do?

He started to shove up from his chair. How the hell do you know? Did Liz tell you? He stopped, feeling foolish. You had your own nightmares.

We
all
have nightmares. His expression was kind. Even veterans who arent suffering from PTSD have em. Its the minds way of processing traumatic memories.

He sank back into the chair, but didnt let go of the arms. Mine doesnt process them. Its stuck replaying.

A nod. Like a vinyl record with a scratch. Why do you think youre here?

Trying to joke, to lighten the mood, John said, Because my little sister bullied me into it?

If thats the only reason, we shouldnt be wasting our time. Apparently Brian Lehrthat was his namedidnt have a sense of humor.

Fiona.

Because of the scratch. He had to clear his throat. Because
I
must be damaged.

Lehr nodded. So lets back up. What are you yelling when you wake up?

The Arabic word sounded alien when he said it. Run, he translated. I was trying to warn them.

Them?

The kids. He closed his eyes, but opened them quickly, unable to bear the scene playing behind his eyelids. The boys.

How many?

Eleven. Itvaried. Eleven that morning.

The voice was both gentle and relentless. And one of them had a soccer ball?

Most of them did. Afterward He swallowed. I just saw the one.

They were going to practice? Play a game?

His chest hurt. Pickup game. The other team hadnt shown up yet.

How old were they?

Were.
That was the operative word. Six dead. Four
maimed, lives over for all practical purposes. Only one, had walked away unharmed.

Fourteen, fifteen.

You saw them regularly.

Breathe,
he told himself.

Couple times a week.

You play soccer yourself, back here in the States?

Yeah. Youth, high school, college.

Natural that a soccer game would draw you.

Lehr didnt get it,
John thought incredulously. He imagined this soldier exchanging a few words with the boys when he happened by.

What did you see that made you shout the warning?

I dont know if I did shout it. It was in my mind. Butthings happened fast.

Theres the scratch, the counselor murmured. You feel like you failed because you didnt warn them.

As if John hadnt figured out that one himself. But the gouge that made the record unplayablethat was something else.

What did you see? Lehr asked again.

A woman. Or a man dressed in a womans robes. I turned and shehewas there.

You think it was a man.

Yeah. I could just see the eyes above the burqa. He tried to zoom in on the picture. Heavy brows. Too strong a ridge.

Is that how you knew something was wrong?

He shook his head, then said, Maybe. Part of it. It was so fast. The robe didnt hang right. There was some
bulk around the middle. Notnatural, like a pregnant belly. And the eyes. They were wild. Like a fanatic, but scared, too. Maybe he wasnt that old, either. I dont know. Nobody told me.

A suicide bomber.

The pressure in his chest was near unbearable. Yeah. I saw him, I opened my mouthI think I did. And thenboom.

How many died?

Six. Six boys. Four were badly hurt. They lost legs or arms or His stomach heaved. Faces.

And the bomber died.

He was torn to bits.

You were hurt.

Enough to get discharged and shipped home.

You said there were eleven.

One boy wasnt hurt. He was just far enough away. I dont know.

A miracle.

Did one out of eleven qualify as a miracle? John didnt think so, although that boys parents might disagree.

That was a tough thing to see.

Dont feel sorry for me. It was my fault.

His guts were on fire, his heart hammering so hard he heard it. But
this
was why hed come. Not to receive pity, understanding, but to say these words.

Your fault?

I was their coach. Their friend. The face of America.

And you believe the bomb was a message to you.

No. To the other Iraqis. Hang out with Americans, you will suffer.

Had it occurred to you that you might be endangering the boys by befriending them?

Yes. No. Once again, he squeezed his eyes shut. I thoughtthey were children.
Children.
No one would kill a bunch of boys who just wanted to play better soccer to make their parents proud.

But you found that hate knows no decency. Lehrs voice was soft.

I foundthat I had made a terrible mistake. One that
they
paid for.

He cried again, and scarcely heard the words Brian Lehr murmured.

And so the healing begins.

S
OMEHOW
,
after the date with Chad, Fiona felt even lonelier. It was as if, until then, shed been able to fool herself that she could easily move on.

The thing with John? Too bad, but
Big shrug.
Win some, lose some.

Who had she been kidding? she asked herself in despair. She was damaged goods. Heart broken, or at least cracked. Hearts, she had discovered, unlike bones, didnt mend in six weeks.

It didnt help that the kids kept bringing up his name.

Tabitha. I got an e-mail from Mr. Fallon. He says

Dieter. Dad made reservations for us to go to Thunder Mountain in July. Is that cool, or what? Willow is talking to
her
dad about them maybe going at the same time.

Willow. Dad says maybe. My little brother thinks it would be awesome!

Oh, good. Fiona was excruciatingly jealous of two teenagers, because
they
got to go back to the lodge.
Theyd
get to see John.

Thats great, she managed to say. Tell Mr. Fallon hi.

Willow looked shocked, and even accusatory. How come you dont still e-mail with him?

I think maybe to maintain a friendship you have to see each other once in a while.

She immediately regretted what shed said when the girls shoulders slumped.

Yeah. My friends from my old school? Its like, we used to IM all the time. Not so much anymore.

It happens. Fiona gave her a quick hug. Important friendships last, even over time and distance. And fortunately, you make new ones at every phase of life.

A quiet glowand the removal of her braces, leaving perfectly straight, white teeth and a far more natural smilemade Willow considerably prettier than shed been in early November. I have, thanks to Dieter andand to you.

Me? Touched, Fiona hugged her again. Im glad if Ive helped.

The kids whod been on that trip had become important to her, far beyond the fact that she coached them in Knowledge Champs. It was a combination, she thought, of having faced actual danger together, and of the intimacy of the days that followed. She knew them, foibles, joys and weaknesses, as she rarely knew her students. What she couldnt decide was whether it was an upside or a downside that they felt they knew her, too.

Kelli and Tabitha together stopped at her desk after class perhaps a month after Fionas date with Chad.

You went out with Mr. Scammell, right? Kelli asked.

Her mouth probably dropped open. How did you?

I heard him ask you. I was waiting in the hall, Tabitha said.

I really dont think my personal life

He is so into rules. Kelli wrinkled her nose. Its like, whod want to be the vice principal in charge of discipline?

Fiona had wondered that herself.

Besides, hes not hot like Mr. Fallon.

No. He wasnt.

Girls. She schooled her voice to be pleasant but steely. Its not in any way appropriate for me to discuss my dating life with you.

Looking worried, Tabitha said, But are you still dating him?

What did I just say?

They both looked crushed. You are, Kelli mumbled.

As it happens, I am
not
dating Mr. Scammell. Which would seem to be a really, really good thing, if the entire school gossips every time two teachers have dinner together.

Youre not, Tabitha said in a rush of what appeared to be relief. Both their faces brightened. Cool!

Before she could ask them what that had all been about, they dashed out, claiming they were going to be late although she realized the minute they disappeared into the hall that they had lunch this period.

Oh, well, she thought philosophically. Perhaps she should be flattered that they even noticed she
had
a personal lifeand even more that they worried about her. So much for the self-centeredness of teens.

Her mom worried about her, too. Shed been calling more often lately, even though she had a busy social life. She and Barry went to a movie, play or concert at
least a couple evenings a week, and had joined a Saturday walking group. They often asked her to join them, which she had a couple of times. She and Barry had relaxed around each other, and even joked about the Thanksgiving debacle. Nice as it was to get to know him, Fiona couldnt help feeling as if she was being included out of pity.

She could just hear her mother telling him, Poor Fiona! The first time shes been serious about someone inoh, forever, and to have it end so badly.

She had to roll her eyes at her own imagination. Her mother had probably never said anything of the sort! And if she hadwell, it was true. Every word.

Mid-April, the seniors received their acceptances and rejections from colleges across the country. Troy would be going to the University of Oregon, and was happy about it.

Dad wanted me to get into someplace like Stanford. Thats why I joined He looked embarrassed.

Knowledge Champs. Fiona nodded. I guessed. Its okay. Most high school kids are thinking about how to make their applications look good.

Yeah. Thanks. I guess I didnt join enough things. He grinned. Stanford said no.

She smiled back. As long as youre satisfied.

Yeah, this is what I wanted to do.

Erin, in contrast,
was
accepted by Stanford.
And
Princeton.

I also got into this college in southern California. She had asked to talk to Fiona during her grading period. She sat at a desk facing Fionas, her back
straight, her demeanor dignified. Scripps College. Its really small

And a womens college. Fiona nodded. I know of it.

I dont know how to tell my parents, but thats where I want to go.
Because
its small. Students were really friendly when I visited. I felt like I belonged. At Stanford
I
felt small and unimportant.

Have you told your parents that? Fiona asked gently.

Her black hair shimmered when she shook her head.

They took you to visit Scripps.

Actually we went to see Pomona. You know, theyre right next to each other. But its a bigger deal. So, while we were there we toured Scripps and Claremont and Harvey Mudd. They all kind of share facilities, and students can take classes at any of the colleges.

Fiona nodded again.

Erin looked down at her hands, pressed flat on the desk. I didnt tell them Id applied to Scripps instead of Pomona.

Ah.

Her eyes were filled with desperation when she looked up. So you see

I dont know your parents well, but they have always seemed to want the best for you.

Erin bit her lip. Thats why

Have they ever given you reason to think that they wouldnt be happy with what
you
think is best for you?

That seemed to confuse Erin for a moment. No-o, she finally said, doubtfully. They just were so excited when I got the acceptance from Stanford.

Talk to them, Fiona advised. If they have problems with your decision, Id be glad to speak to them.

Okay. Erin took a deep breath and stood, her poise restored. Thank you. I needed someone to tell me Im not making a really horrible decision.

Fiona laughed. Youre not. Come back tomorrow and tell me what they said.

The next day the girl stopped by Fionas desk on the way into class. Her smile was shy but happy. Mom said she loved Scripps, too. They dont seem disappointed at all!

It
is
in the top tier of liberal arts colleges in the nation.

I just thoughtStanford sounds more prestigious. But I mailed my acceptance to Scripps today. Im really excited.

It was as if all their lives were coming together, Fiona reflected, paying attention that day as she saw them coming and going. Willow and Dieter had blossomed because of their romance, Hopper was his usual happy-go-lucky self, Kelli and Tabitha both seemed to be working harder this semester with a resulting improvement in grades, Erin and Troy were prepared for the exciting step of leaving for college, and even Amy, another teacher reported, seemed to have a better attitude.

Only mine sucks,
Fiona thought, checking her e-mail before she put away the milk shed bought on the way home. And, of course, being once again disappointed.

She had a good life. A satisfying life. But aside from that, shed been right to say no to John. She knew she had. The decision
hadnt
been about what she would be giving up. It had been about what kind of relationship
they would have, and whether either of them would have been content with whatever that had turned out to be.

Unfortunately knowing shed been right didnt seem to lessen her depression.

She had an exciting dinner of tomato soup from a can and a grilled cheese sandwich, then tried to work on a paper she was writing for a class in educational psychology.

Fiona was about to give up after struggling first with a paragraph for what had to be half an hour, then searching for another fifteen minutes for a reference she
knew
shed jotted down. Somewhere. The sound of the doorbell was a relief, even though it was unusual enough on a weeknight to make her a little apprehensive.

She looked through the peephole and stared. Distorted though the face was, it looked for all the world like John Fallon. How could he be here? Had she ever even given him her address?

Her knees felt weak and her heart drummed as she fumbled with the locks and flung the door open. John?

He looked like himself, and yetnot. For one thing, it was April, so instead of a heavy sweater or down vest over his jeans, he wore only an oatmeal-colored thermal henley T-shirt, with the couple of buttons unfastened to expose his sinfully sexy throat and chest. And athletic shoes instead of boots. Hed had a haircut, too. Recently, she thought. And he was so clean-shaven, he had to have taken a razor to his five oclock shadow. Which meantShe couldnt think what it meant.

How did you find me?

Dieter. He shrugged apologetically, his eyes wary. Youre unlisted. He, uh, hacked into the personnel records

She flapped both hands. Dont tell me! If I know, I might have to do something.

He thought it was a good cause.

It?

Me.

Oh. Warmth crept over her. Hed enlisted Dieters helpHer eyes narrowed. Wait. Did you ask Tabitha or Kelli if I was dating anyone?

Uh

You did! she accused.

He glanced each way, at the neighboring town houses. Do you suppose I could come in?

Of course she wanted nothing so much in the world as to have him come in, but she pretended to frown. You used the kids!

If you let me in, Ill explain.

Oh, fine. She stood to one side, then closed the door behind him. Im their teacher. You asked them to pry!

Theyre the ones who e-mailed me when you started dating the school Mussolini.

Chad is very niceThey e-mailed
you?

First, Tabitha and then Dieter. They apparently felt I should rush to rescue you. Or rush over here if I wanted to have any chance whatsoever with you.

Fiona felt a funny shift in her chest that felt very like the crumbling of hope. That was almost six weeks ago. You didnt rush here. Or even e-mail.

No. His eyes were very dark and intent on her face. I thought, uh, that I wouldnt be welcome. Not if I hadnt dealt with any of my issues. But their e-mails scared me, Fiona. He reached out and clasped her hands. If thats what they meant to do, they succeeded.

But Tears stung her eyes and she knew any minute her nose would be running. Its been months! She couldnt seem to help wailing. You nevernever even answered my e-mail.

God,
he said, and enfolded her in his arms.

She cried quietly for a minute, her tears soaking his thermal shirt. All the while, he held her tightly, his cheek pressed to the top of her head.

Im sorry. Im so sorry, Fiona. If you only knew

When she thought she could hold herself together, she straightened and stepped back. She heard in her voice a dignity that reminded her of Erin. That was the trouble, wasnt it? I couldnt know, because you didnt tell me.

Any guard had slipped, leaving his face haggard, unhappinessequal to hersin his eyes. Thats why I couldnt rush over here six weeks ago. Why I never answered. I wasstruggling with anger because you were asking me to do something that was painful. I couldnt come to you until I could admit that I had a problem.

But The words caught in her throat, emerged as a whisper. Have you now?

I spent two weeks in Portland in March. I saw a counselor who specializes in PTSD three times a week. Since then, Ive been making the trip once a week.

Now she was afraid to hope. Hashas it helped?

His mouth twisted. I still have nightmares. I havent
had a flashback in maybe a month. Thats not long enough to assume theyre gone for good. ButIve been able to talk to people. First him, then my sister and Mom and Dad. He hunched his shoulders. Is your offer still open, Fiona? Because Im here to talk.

Darned if she wasnt crying again. She didnt even try to hide her tears or wipe her nose. Its still open. I said whenever, and I meant whenever. Even if it took She couldnt finish.

Once again his arms were around her. Months?

Forever, she choked out.

H
E WIPED HER TEARS
and grabbed a paper towel from her kitchen so she could blow her nose. Then he had to kiss her, of course. These last six weeks, it had been all he could do to stay away from her. Hed lived for the moment he could kiss her again. Hed prayed it would come.

Hed known all along that she might reject him. Shed driven away almost four months ago. In that time, hed neither e-mailed nor called. It had come to seem foolish even to imagine that he could knock on her door out of the blue and be received with any kind of joy.

But in this kiss she gave herself with all the generosity that had drawn him to her in the first place. She held him tightly, she murmured his name, she pulled back to look up at him with something like wonder.

I cant believe it.

He grimaced. That Im here? Or that I was ever willing to admit what a jackass Ive been?