Solomon's Decision (17 page)

He slipped his free arm behind her. "I'm a morning person, I guess. I always wake
up raring to go."

"Today that's probably for the best. I keep wondering what I've forgotten."
Another sip. Surely there was something she needed to be doing, but she couldn't think of a
single one. Having a half-naked Erik beside her in the bed was an instant and effective
mind wipe. She drank more coffee, thinking that she really needed to get started. The
Committee was meeting for breakfast at eight-thirty, and she had to get together with
Amelia before that.

Erik lifted the cup from her hand. "You've had a half cup. That's enough." He
pulled her close and kissed her, a hot, wet kiss full of promise and longing.

For a moment, Madeline responded, wanting him just as much this morning as she
had last night. Then reality intruded, in the sound of jake brakes on the highway. Today
was the Fourth and she was in charge of the Social. She could let nothing interfere with her
responsibility to her town. "Stop, please," she said, once she could pull her mouth free
from his. An almost impossible task, because she hadn't really wanted to. "We can't. Not
this morning."

Erik looked over her shoulder at the clock. "You're right, damn it. It's almost
seven."

"Oh, no!" She rolled out of the bed, hardly noticing she was stark naked. Grabbing
her robe, she headed for the bathroom. If she hurried, she could get her shower and still
have enough time to go over everything with Amelia before breakfast.

* * * *

By the time the Social officially opened at noon, Madeline was already convinced
that their estimates of attendance were going to be exceeded. People had been coming into
town steadily since about ten, and already the fairgrounds parking lots were full.

The parade went well. She imagined people from Boise weren't too impressed, but
as far as she was concerned, it was the biggest and best ever. The visiting high school
bands played loudly and with enthusiasm, if not always strictly in tune. Each riding club
was followed by rowdy clowns, wielding their scoops with smelly flamboyance. There
might not be many floats, but the wagons full of costumed children and the clowns made
up for the lack. Every Halloween costume in Sunset County must have been put to use.
And how had the coach convinced the entire football team to paint their faces? Not that
most of the boys didn't do a lot of clowning around anyway, even without makeup. Phil
Cohoon was the cutest, with his bulbous red nose and Emaline's old purple satin dress
straining at his broad shoulders.

So far--knock wood--everything was going smoothly. All the first shift volunteers
had shown up, the equipment donated by local merchants was all working, and the truck
from the beer distributor had just arrived. They wouldn't open the beer garden until four,
but she was relieved to know that they would be ready to do so.

Even the hurriedly built tables and benches looked good. Erik made a call to
Portland and convinced the company president that Hells Gate Timber should contribute to
the Social, a first for the town. Ever since the original owners had sold it, about thirty years
ago, the sawmill had used Sunset County trees and labor, but had done nothing else to be
part of the community. Today there was seating for several hundred picnickers, put
together practically overnight with materials and labor supplied by Hells Gate.

Madeline checked her watch. Almost one and everything was still going smoothly.
Now, where were Janine and the kids?

"Linnie!" Madeline craned her neck, trying to see who had called her name.
"Linnie! Over here!"

A hand was waving over the crowd, from the direction of the Baptist Church
booth. She wove her way through the crowd. "What's the problem?" she asked the aproned
woman behind the counter who was holding the end of an extension cord.

"We can't keep it plugged in. Every time someone walks between the booths," she
pointed next door, where tempura and teriyaki chicken on skewers were selling like
hotcakes, "they trip on our cord and unplug the coffee maker."

Madeline measured the distance between the booths with her eye. "Why don't you
pull one of your cars into the space a little way, then run the cord under it? Then you could
stretch some flagging tape across whatever gap is left. I'll see if I can find Erik and send
him over with the tape."

"That ought to work. Thanks, Linnie." The woman dropped the cord and spun
around to call to a co-worker, "No, not those onions. Use the ones in the blue container
first."

Madeline was heading for the high school, to check supplies in the rest rooms,
when she heard her children calling her. Turning around, she saw Kyle and Ginger racing
across the picnic area, dodging adults and tables. Janine and her children were following at
a more leisurely walk. She knelt and waited, marveling again that these two wonderful
children were hers. When they reached her, they bowled her over with their enthusiastic
greeting.

"Mama, did you know Phil's wearing a
dress!"
Kyle demanded, as soon
as he'd given her a big hug. "And one of the guys has his hair dyed purple and tattoos all
over his tummy."

"And...and...and we saw a bee-u-tiful black car with its top down and a license
plate that said 'ZOOM,'" Ginger added, showing where her interest always centered. Jon
swore she'd drive the Indy 500 some day.

"I want a hamburger," Kyle said, still hanging on her, even though she'd stood.
"And lots and lots of ice cream and a hot dog and some cotton candy, and--"

"And maybe I should leave them with you tonight," her cousin's wife said, giving
Madeline a quick hug, "if he's going to eat like that."

"Oh, Jan, if only you could, but I've got to--"

"I was kidding," Jan said. "You'll be on the go until all hours, if this is anything
like it's always been." Janine had done her share at the Social in years past and she knew
whereof she spoke.

Madeline was guiltily conscious of relief. If the children were to stay with her
tonight, Erik wouldn't. And she so desperately wanted him to.

After the confusion of the Social was over, she wouldn't dare let him stay in her
house, unless the children were there. And she wouldn't ever, ever let him make love to her
if there was a chance in a million that her children might discover them together. Tonight
would be all they had.

Perhaps ever.

"I see some of the guys from school," Jace said. "Can I go to the carnival with
them, Ma?"

Janine dug in her purse and handed him some money. "Go ahead honey. Just be
sure you meet me at Aunt Linnie's at five o'clock."

He was gone almost before he could agree.

"I'm really, really hungry, Ma," Abby said, tugging on Janine's free arm.

"Me, too." Ginger rubbed her tummy.

"Well, me, three," Madeline agreed. "So. Where do we eat?" Usually there were
only two food booths to choose between, besides the ice cream stand. This year there were
the Baptist booth, where hamburgers and hot dogs were featured, the Obon Festival booth
with its Japanese food, a barbecued ribs and baked beans feed put on by the Larch
Mountain Grange, and an Idaho Spud booth, where one could get potatoes fixed every way
but raw. That was not to mention the cotton candy stand, two soft drink stands, and the
beer garden, which would feature pizza by the slice along with its domestic and imported
beers.

"Ice cream!" Denny said.

"Hangoobers," Kyle demanded, using a pronunciation from his terrible threes.

"I want some of that stuff on sticks," Ginger said. "And curly fries."

"Can I have a hot dog, Ma?"

Madeline laughed. "Let's make a list. Then you kids can go save us a place at a
table and Aunt Janine and I can get all the food, okay?"

They all agreed and repeated their requests for Janine to write down. With happy
shouts, they ran toward the picnic area. "I'm not sure we are going to be able to carry all
this," Jan said. "Or that they'll be able to eat it all."

"Probably not," Madeline agreed. "I never could, but Gran and Gramps always let
me have whatever I wanted, just this one day."

"That's what Jon said, too. Oh, well." She chuckled. "if we have an epidemic of
belly aches tonight, he can get up with 'em." They parted to get the varied foods for their
children.

* * * *

Erik caught Madeline between the First Aid tent and the not-yet-open beer garden
somewhere around three. As she was passing the beer truck, an arm snaked out and pulled
her into the narrow gap between it and the tent.

"C'mere, you gorgeous morsel." His voice imitated a movie gangster's.

"Ooooh," she sighed, fluttering her eyelashes, "please don't hurt me!"

"Baby, what I want to do to you won't hurt a bit," he growled, before taking her
mouth in a deep, hungry kiss.

She melted. The temperature was still in the low seventies, but she felt herself
sizzle as his kiss deepened. Caught between his body and the truck behind her, she didn't
quite trickle down into a puddle at his feet, but she felt as if she should.

"There," he said against her lips a long time later, "that should hold me for a little
while."

She kissed his bearded chin. "An hour or so," she agreed. "Not one second
longer." He felt so good. All she wanted to do was stand here in the circle of his arms and
let him turn her blood to fire and her body to fluid compliance.

"But what I
have
to do is get on back to the stage. There's some problem
with the sound system." He released her, leaving her standing shakily on legs that had
somehow lost their starch.

"And I've got to deliver this sunscreen to the First Aid tent." She shook her head.
"I can't understand why people don't come prepared. Our most common medical
emergency is sunburn."

"Be glad it's nothing worse," Erik said, reluctantly releasing her. "Gotta go." With
one hand he caught her nape and kissed the tip of her nose. "Catch you later."

His leer promised an unspeakably delicious later. Madeline knew she was grinning
like a clown as she went on her way.

* * * *

Erik had to admit that this was at once the most exhausting and the most
interesting day he'd spent in years. Despite the constant need to cope with minor
emergencies, he was having the time of his life. Getting to know these people was the best
part of it. He'd lived in the Washington, D.C. area for eleven years now, on and off, and he
knew fewer people there than he did in Garnet Falls--and not nearly so well, either. He
couldn't think of a place he'd ever been where he felt so at home.

Madeline was a big part of his feeling like he belonged, he was sure.

He stopped to purchase a cola, glanced at his watch, and headed across Jefferson
Street. His feet were tired and he could use the excuse of making sure the kids' games were
going smoothly to sit on the bleachers for a while, as soon as he solved the sound
problem.

Most of the foot traffic between the park and the playing field was children
running pell mell in all directions. Several times Erik had to step out of the way or be run
down. The third time it happened, the boy--ten or so, he estimated--begged his pardon
before running off. Three smaller children were pursuing him, yelling.

My god! That little girl had to be one of Madeline's twins. Her black, curly hair
and stubborn little chin were duplicates of Madeline's, and her mouth had the same sweet
little curve that made her look as if she were about to smile.

But it was the younger boy who held his attention. Who was he? Erik
knew
he'd seen the child before, seen him many times, but where?

He followed the children, or tried to. Since the playing field was the only likely
destination in this direction, he kept on going that way. When he arrived, he climbed
higher in the bleachers than he needed to, just so he could look over the crowd.

Where have I seen that child before?

He scanned the crowd. If he could only get another look at the boy, he would
know.

The miniature Madeline was at the side of the field, jumping up and down.
Another girl was beside her, carroty hair a beacon in the bright sunlight.

Where was the boy? Ah, there, pulling a gunnysack over his legs, with a dozen or
so other boys, all much bigger than he.

Erik watched, straining to make out the child's features. Even his motions seemed
familiar. He half kept his eye on the boy as he made his way down to ground level, almost
afraid he'd disappear before he was identified.

The sack race began before he could get near enough to see the boy's face well, so
he stood as close to the two little girls as he could, assuming the boy would return to them,
since he'd seemed to be their companion.

The short course was littered with fallen children before the race was decided. The
boy whom Erik was watching fell about a third of the way through the race, and lay on the
ground, laughing uproariously while the other boys hopped and staggered their way along.
The winner was a tall, skinny kid with a gap between his front teeth, and the boy who'd
collided with Erik was second.

After awards were presented to first, second, and third places, with lesser prizes to
all the contestants, the two boys returned to the little girls. Erik watched as the smaller one
approached. Watched, and wondered if he were seeing a ghost.

Gail and Erik had not been twins, but might as well have been. Less than two
years apart, they'd been inseparable. If Gail had been a little bossy, Erik had been a good
follower. His big sister never left him behind when she went places with her friends. She
had never called Erik a baby, or told him he was dumb, or even beat on him, as some of
her friends did on their little brothers and sisters. Erik and Gail were a unified front in the
face of their mother's gloom and despair. It had been to Gail that Erik owed what laughter
and happiness his childhood had held.