The Lives Between Us (22 page)

“Sounds like fun.” Skye threw her carry-on in the trunk and walked around to the front seat. They pulled out of the parking area and headed into town.

“So, I have to know.” Noelle glanced at her before returning her attention to the road. “How’d you and Mark meet?”

Skye told her about his running the pesky guy off and buying her dinner. “Is that his standard pickup? ’Cause it was good. I was totally hooked—but if you tell him, I’ll deny it.”

“Mark doesn’t have a standard pick up. But he’s always been gallant. It doesn’t surprise me he’d do that.”

“Surprised me. Mark makes a habit of surprising me.”

“He really likes you. I’ve never seen him this interested in another woman—they usually do all the pursuing.”

“So that’s what he likes about me—the chase.”

Noelle laughed as she swung the car into a diagonal parking space. “I’m sure there’s more.”

They climbed out of the car and Noelle went to a blue box two cars down and swiped a credit card to pay for parking. They moved down the street. “Mark’s really looking forward to your visit.”

“Me, too.” Skye paused and looked at the towering mountains. The snowy white slopes stood out in stark relief as they bisected dark pine tree stands. Here and there she spotted colorful figures sliding down the mountains. “To be honest, this is a good distraction for me. It’s been a rather stressful year. My niece died recently and now her mother—my sister, Faith—is in the hospital recuperating from a Cesarean section and a stroke. The twins are still in NICU.”

Noelle’s dark eyes softened in sympathy. “I’m so sorry. Jeff was a preemie. He spent a couple of weeks in NICU after he was born. It’s tough.”

“It is, and I don’t know what to do to help.” She stepped around a guy carrying his snowboard. “The babies are fine right now, but they have a ways to go before they can go home and... I guess I feel guilty.” Uncomfortable with confession, Skye was grateful for the dark sunglasses. “I’m used to looking after myself. I’m not very domestic and nurturing.”

“That’s hard. Do your parents live close? Can they help?”

“Our parents are dead. It’s just been me, Faith, Peter, and Niki for a long time.” Skye forced a bright smile. “So I feel a little guilty bailing on Faith around the holiday, but she understood. She probably needed the break from me, too. Faith’s the big sister who always had all the answers and looked out for me and now she can’t. This Christmas is going to be hard for them without Niki—and this way Faith doesn’t need to worry about me.” She glanced at Noelle. “What about your parents? Won’t you be missing the big holiday thing?”

They strolled down a brick walk with tall trees towering overhead and benches made of wood and iron brushed free of the snow mounding feet above and behind them. “My mom died five years ago from lung cancer, and my dad’s flying back to New York to be with his brothers and my cousins. They’ll do the big holiday thing there.”

“And your husband’s family?”

“Edward’s father passed away awhile ago, and his mom’s staying in Florida with her sister for the holidays. This year we’re looking forward to the quiet and rest.”

“I’m sure you all need it after the campaign.”

“It was exhausting.” Noelle pointed at a royal purple strapless gown in a boutique’s window. “Isn’t that beautiful?”

It was stunning. Though Skye had no use for it, she bet Noelle went to dozens of black tie events. The wistful expression on Noelle’s face intrigued Skye. Surely she wore gorgeous gowns like that all the time. “It’s stunning. Want to try it on?”

“I couldn’t wear that.”

“Sure you could. It’d look fabulous on you.”

Noelle shook her head. “It’s too low cut.”

“Don’t be silly. Come on.” Skye grabbed her arm and pulled her into the shop. After waving off the sales clerk, it only took Skye a few seconds to locate the dress hanging on the wall. She sifted through the rack, searching for the right size. “Six or eight?”

“Eight.” She lowered her voice. “But—”

“Try it on.” Skye looked around for a dressing room.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Noelle worried her lip and blushed. What’s the problem? Noelle cast furtive looks at the few other patrons and leaned close. “You won’t tell?”

Skye shook her head.

“You swear?”

Ah ha. The first test of their agreement. The way Noelle was acting, this was going to be juicy. “Swear.”

Noelle stared her down as if gauging if she should trust her. She lifted a hand to her neck and pulled aside her shirt. A white dove—smaller than a quarter, peaked out the top of her lacy bra, over her heart. Noelle quickly pulled her shirt back, whispering. “It would show.”

Skye beamed, whirled around, and tugged the waistband of her jeans down to reveal a pink, purple, and blue butterfly in the small of her back. “I’ve got one, too.”

Noelle bent over. “It’s darling. How’d you come to pick a butterfly?”

“I wanted something cute and sexy. You?”

“It reminds me that the Holy Spirit dwells within me.” Noelle paused and looked away. “I got it after I miscarried at five months.”

So Noelle knew the pain of a lost child, too. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”

“Well, it’s very tasteful. Showing it wouldn’t cause a riot.” Then again, maybe Noelle didn’t want to share something so private—or prompt questions from the press. Though if she hadn’t said anything, Skye would have assumed she chose the dove as a symbol of her faith. The same faith that cost them Niki.

Noelle raised an eyebrow in mock haughtiness. “Senators wives do
not
have tattoos.”

“Oh,
please
.” Skye tsked and waved a hand as if shooing away a pesky fly. “It’s not as if it’s a skull and crossbones.”

“Edward’s opponents make up enough negative stuff to try and discredit him. I don’t need to give them ammunition.”

Well not much she could do to argue with that. Skye hung the dress up, and they wandered out of the shop and into the bright sunlight. She lowered her voice, conscious of other people walking by. Chances of the skiers and boarders overhearing and caring were slight, but Skye wanted to be discreet. “So is it really that repressive to be married to Edward?”

“Repressive?” Noelle looked surprised. “I wouldn’t say
repressive
, just... Different.”

“Can I ask you something?”

Her pace slowed. “Sure.”

“I’m curious. Since he’s handsome and something of a celebrity, do women throw themselves at Edward and do weird things?”

“Weird things?” Noelle chuckled. “Not really. Okay, sometimes. There have been a few awkward moments, but for the most part, no.”

Meandering down the street, they passed a leather store, a home store, and several art galleries. One gallery had intricately carved bronze statues of animals and children. Innocent, appealing subjects.

“What’d you do before Edward was elected?”

“Taught middle school science.”

“A teacher? Do you miss it?”

“Sometimes. But when we’re not campaigning, I’m busy with Jeff and his activities. I volunteer a lot. Speak at a few functions. I’m very involved with the Girls in Math and Science. I keep busy, so I don’t miss it.”

“I forgot about Jeff. With Edward’s career, it must be hard—kind of like being a single parent.”

Noelle shrugged. “No harder than other parents who have demanding careers or who have to work two or three jobs to pay the bills—or military families with spouses overseas.”

“I guess.”

Noelle looked at her. “Do you think about having kids?”

“Me?” Skye reared her head back and slowed her pace. “Not really. Until recently I moved around a lot,” she said, somehow feeling inadequate at the admission. Kids equaled commitment. And heartbreak.

“It’s a big change. But you’ll know when you’re ready. And then it’ll be the most wonderful blessing.”

Skye wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready for kids, but Noelle spoke so wistfully, she didn’t know what to say. She looked at her watch. “It’s almost four o’clock. Maybe we should go back. I need to get checked in and unpack.”

They turned around and headed back to the car. “Checked in?”

“At the Stonebridge Inn. They had a last-minute cancellation.”

Noelle’s face fell. She unlocked the car, and they slid in. “I assumed you’d be staying with us.”

“That’s sweet of you, but I...” Staying with them would be awkward—too intimate. And Edward would hate the idea. They’d negotiated a truce for the holidays, but no need to stress it. “The reservationist said that the Inn was close to your condo.”

“It is, but we’d expected you to stay with us. I’m sure that’s what Mark was thinking.”

“I...”

“You can have Mark’s room, and he’ll share with Jeff, if that’s what bothering you.”

Skye felt heat climbing her neck. “I... Uh...”

“I don’t mean to be pushy. You do whatever makes you comfortable. Here you were looking forward to a little privacy and alone time, and I badger you. The Inn’s very nice and only a two-minute walk.”

“I... I don’t want to cause any problems.”

“No problems. Let’s get you checked in and then see if the guys are back yet. We’ve got steaks for dinner.” Frowning, Noelle glanced at her, then back to the snowy roads as they rumbled across the bridge and left town. “You do eat meat, don’t you?”

Skye laughed. “I love meat.”

* * *

Eight-thirty Christmas morning, Skye let herself into the Hastings’s condo. She pocketed the key they’d insisted she carry and followed sounds of soft Christmas music into the main room. She grinned at the scene before her.

A rumpled Mark, dressed in a forest green T-shirt and baggy plaid pajama bottoms, slumped on the long couch, his feet near Noelle, who snuggled in a soft-looking white terry robe and cradled a digital camera in her lap. Mark yawned broadly, mussed his hair, and through slit eyes watched his godson sort the stack of presents by the fireplace.

At the counter overlooking the living room, Edward, dressed in a matching white robe and navy pajama bottoms, whistled White Christmas while he poured three mugs of coffee. He liberally laced one with whipped vanilla cream and two tablets of sweetener, poured the remaining cream in another mug, and left one black—probably for Mark. He added the mugs to a tray with one lone cup.

Edward looked up and gave her a welcoming smile. “Morning, Skye. Merry Christmas.”

Skye moved into the room and put her packages on the counter. “Merry Christmas.”

Lolling against the couch, Mark lifted his head to see her. “Merry Christmas,” he mumbled, as he lifted and dropped his hand on the couch seat next to him, inviting her to sit. Noelle turned her head to Skye and wiggled her fingers in greeting.

Edward chuckled at their pitiful welcome. “Tea, Skye?”

“I can get it.” She didn’t want him to wait on her.

Edward waved her off. He snatched another mug, tossed a tea bag in it, and filled it with hot water from the dispenser before reaching into the cupboard. “Honey?”

“Yes, thank you.” Skye tried not to be impressed that he’d remembered how she preferred her drink. It was part of his job to remember personal little things like people’s names, to trick strangers and acquaintances into thinking he cared.

He added the drinks to a tray and set them on the coffee table. Jeff reached for his hot chocolate. Mark scooped up his coffee as if he were dying and caffeine was the life elixir that would save him. He took a long gulp.

Edward handed his wife her drink. Noelle flashed Edward a quick smile and blew on her coffee before taking a long grateful sip. She closed her eyes and purred as a blissful expression crossed her face. “Thank God for morning people.”

“You’re welcome,” Edward said.

Noelle scooted closer to Mark, making room. Edward partially sat on the feet Noelle tucked next to her and stretched an arm across the couch behind her. He rubbed a lock of her hair between his thumb and forefinger, then smoothed her hair and lifted it away from her shoulder as he watched his son slide stacked gifts in front of them. Skye noted the casual gesture of affection, somehow not expecting it now that there was no audience.

As they opened presents, Skye silently sipped her tea and observed them. Noelle cooed over the green scarf, mittens, and stylish beret from Mark, and Jeff seemed happy with the Stratego game and latest X-Men DVD Mark had given him. Noelle positively glowed and melted when she opened the exquisite garnet necklace Edward got her, explaining to Skye and Mark that she’d admired it at the Aspen Arts and Craft Fair last summer.

Skye felt a little self-conscious when Jeff opened the Imagine Dragons CD she’d picked up for him.

“You probably have a smartphone, but you can always download the songs to your computer and then load them,” she said. “I got it at Target. It won’t hurt my feelings if you want to return it.”

Jeff sat cross-legged on the floor, studying the back cover. He flashed her a crooked smile, so like his dad’s that if he didn’t have a girlfriend yet, it’s just a matter of time before the girls swarmed the handsome teenager. “It’s great. Thank you.”

Mark slouched with his feet on the coffee table flipping a puck signed by... Skye stilled his hand and strained to read the signature. “Who’s Steve Yzerman?”

“Captain of the Detroit Red Wings.” Mark twisted it this way and that to catch the light as he examined the signature.

Edward raised his mug, gesturing to the puck. “It’s real.”

“How’d you work that?” Mark tossed the puck to Jeff.

He grinned. “Connections.”

Mark raised his eyebrows, in some silent question that went over Skye’s head, but apparently Edward understood.

“It’s different. We met the owners at an amateur hockey fundraiser the Ilitches sponsored. When Noelle told Mike Ilitch what a huge fan Jeff was, he offered to send me a signed puck.”

Jeff turned his puck over. “Todd’s gonna be so jealous when he sees this.”

Edward picked up a hardback book from a stack. The dragonheads on the covers clearly conveyed it was a medieval fantasy. Edward turned
Inheritance
to face Jeff. “What’s this?”

“A book. The last book in the series.”