Trapped Under Ice (9 page)

Lugging bags up the stairs of their B&B, they found their bedroom, high above the others. With an irregularly sloped ceiling and a canopied bed, she thought it was charming.

“Oh, Paul. This is fantastic.”

She was lying on the bed, soaking in the atmosphere, when Paul sat down beside her. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh yeah?” she answered, her voice honeyed-seduction.

“Not that,” he responded, tapping her lip once, “although I might take you up on that later. Sit up.”

“Okay.”

“Close your eyes. Okay…now open them.”

Lying on the bed was a candy bar.

“Did you get this at the gas station? That’s so sweet. You know that’s my favorite.” She kissed him.

“Is there anything else?”

“Huh?” she said, already opening her candy bar. She looked back down on the bed. Nestled in the quilt where the chocolate had been, a diamond/sapphire anniversary band lay in the folds. “Oh my gosh, Paul!” she squealed. “I can’t believe it!”

He laughed. “Well, try it on.”

“It’s beautiful.” She started crying. “I’ve got to show Dana.” She flew out of the room, running down the stairs to find her little sister.

She heard him mutter as she reached the next floor. “How about that? I get a kiss for a candy bar, and she runs out on me for a ring. Go figure.” The sound of his laughter followed.

Then, like a twist in some horror movie, Beth was transported to another time.

“Is this Mrs. Paul Donovan?”

A chill ran up her spine. Paul was away on a business trip. “Y-yes.”

Then, the hesitation. “Mrs. Donovan, I’m calling from the Aurora Sinai Medical Center in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.” Beth felt her knees starting to buckle. “Your husband was in a serious car accident...” The rest she barely heard. “His injuries were extensive…we used every measure available to us...”

A car horn blew. She had come to a complete halt in the entrance to a convenience store parking lot. She scurried out of the way as the beat-up Beetle pulled into the parking lot. It had begun to snow again. She closed her eyes and lifted her head to the sky, wondering how it was a drunk driver was able to rob her of the man she loved with her whole heart. She trudged the rest of the way home, numb from more than the cold.

***
         

Beth picked up the phone and was pleasantly surprised to hear the voice of her best friend, Cali.

“Hey, babe. I think it’s time for a girls’ night. You up for it?”

She wasn’t up for it, but Cali was so fun. Maybe she could help her get out of this funk.

“Sure. Where do you want to go?”

“Why don’t you come over here?”

“Okay,” Beth responded, surprised. Invites to Cali’s were few and far between. “What should I bring?”

“Nothin’. Just your sweet self.”

Even more unusual. “Who else is coming?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Cali replied in a vague way. “Seven o’clock, then?”

“I’ll be there.”

The appointed time rolled around and she arrived on Cali’s doorstep a little late, having lost track of time. No other cars were around, but it wasn’t unheard of for their other lunch lady friends to be late.

Right as she rang the doorbell, a high-pitched beeping began to issue from the inside of the house. After several seconds, Cali opened the door waving a towel. “The smoke detector went off!” she screamed, the explanation unnecessary as smoke billowed out the front door the minute she opened it.

“Cooking again?” Beth quipped with a wink.

“Very funny, smartass.” Cali coughed, grabbing her by the arm. “Now get in here and start fanning.”

She grinned, shaking her head at her friend’s unending string of failed attempts at domesticity. Cali was a thirty-four-year-old divorcee, a professed man-hater, whose ex-husband cheated on her even as she labored delivering their stillborn child. Not only that, but the louse did it with a woman who Cali considered at the time to be her best friend.

She was the girl you would pick out in a crowd—bottled-blond, bodacious, and not afraid to spend outrageous amounts of money on the latest fashion. She was rarely serious, the ultimate party girl, but in addition, a loving and caring friend. Cali also had a knack for telling people in no uncertain terms exactly how she felt about things—a trait people either admired or hated.

Beth put down her infamous Mexican dip, a bag of chips balanced on top, as she grabbed the proffered kitchen towel and started waving at the smoke. Cali, though tall, was jumping up and down whacking the smoke alarm with the end of her towel. Beth started laughing and coughing. “Only you.”

“Shut up.” Her friend laughed back, snapping her towel at Beth with unerring accuracy.

“Ouch!” she squealed, coughing again. “How can a girl who’s incapable of filling her own gas tank have such good aim?” she added, flicking her towel, but missing. Cali would drive out of her way to the one full-service gas station in town.

With a loud scraping noise, the cover of the smoke alarm fell off, held suspended by some wires, but at least the incessant buzzing had finally stopped. The girls stood panting from their exertion, bent over double, alternately coughing and laughing. They both straightened up, wiping tears from their eyes. Cali threw an arm over Beth’s shoulder, leading her into the kitchen.

“You are
so
not telling anyone about this.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Do I have to get the towel out again?”

Beth held up her hands in a sign of surrender. “No, no. Mum’s the word. I promise.” She ambled over to the oven. “So,” she said, peering into the still-smoking pan on the oven, “what was this going to be?” She grinned, raising her eyebrows mischievously.

“Cheese dip.”

“Uh-huh.” She attempted to stir the charred remains in the saucepan, the pot spinning around and around, the spoon fused to the bottom. “Girlfriend, I think this pan is toast. There’s no way you’re getting this clean.”

“Clean ‘em? Why clean ‘em? I just throw them away.”

Beth laughed. People who didn’t know Cali would think she was just kidding, but she knew it was likely to be true. She often wondered how her friend did it on a lunch lady’s salary, though she knew her ex was paying out the
wazoo for his affair. Beth stole a chip out of the bag Cali had just opened. “So who else is coming?”

“It’s just us tonight,” Cali replied. “Irish cream?”

“Sure, sounds good.” She was suddenly suspicious. “Just us?”

“Yeah,” her friend returned defensively, “I haven’t had a chance to talk to you for awhile.”

“Yeah, we’ve been on break a whole week.”

“Well, we never get a chance to talk at work.”

“Are you kidding? That’s all we do.”

“Good point. But I mean, really talk. Girl to girl.”

Beth leaned back against the counter, her hands crossed in front. “About what?”

“Oh, you know…things,” Cali replied with a vague wave of the hand. “So, how was your trip to St. Louis?”

“The trip I took weeks ago?” She accepted her glass of Irish cream, her suspicions growing stronger. “The one I already told you about?” She followed Cali into her posh living room.

“You only told me in monosyllabic terms: ‘Fine. Good. All right. Super...’”

“Okay, I get it. I get it. What do you want to know?”

“Gee, I don’t know. Like…what did you do there?”

Like snapshots falling from a photo album, she saw images of Chad. She got up from the white couch and strolled over to the window, watching the snow fall and swirl around the patio in playful little gusts. She winced and downed her Irish cream in one gulp.

“Could I get some more?” she asked, hoping to stall for time by going to the kitchen.

Cali, prepared for her subterfuge, lifted the big, brown bottle without saying a word.

“Oh, thanks.”

“How was the concert?” Cali prodded.

“Great. Fantastic, in fact,” she answered truthfully. She decided right away not to talk about the attack that happened afterward; no need to give Cali any more man-fodder.

Cali set her glass down on the coffee table with a loud
rap
, leaning forward with her hands on her knees to give her a come-clean look. Beth downed some more, the creamy drink stung as it went down, but warmed her.

“I met Chad Evans,” she exhaled in a rush, emboldened by the alcohol.

“Really?” Cali picked up her drink and ran a finger around the rim casually. “What was he like?” She studied her friend’s face.

Beth turned to gaze out the window again, but still saw Cali reading her face in the glass’s reflection. “He was…he was…great.”

“‘Great. Fantastic,’” Cali imitated her friend. “I’m needing more syllables here, girl.”

All of a sudden a light turned on. “Did Cassie tell you something? Is that why I’m over here tonight by myself?” Her anger gained momentum. “You wanted to grill me about St. Louis?” she spat out, fury coming upon her like a storm.

Cali rose from the couch. “Now, no need to get yourself into a huff. We’ve all noticed you haven’t been yourself lately. And if that little rock star bastard had anything to do with it, I want to know.”

“He’s not like that!” Beth nearly screamed.

Cali raised her hands defensively. “Whoa! Okay. Obviously struck a chord.” She eyed Beth, silent for a moment. “Now we’re getting somewhere. That was definitely more than one syllable. So what was he like?” she repeated in a more subdued tone, returning to her place on the couch and patting the cushion beside her.

Beth sighed, coming over to sit beside her friend. “It’s hard to explain.”

“You meet one of the world’s biggest rock stars, and that’s all you can give me? Cassie said he came to hear you sing.”

“So, Cassie did call you.”

Cali shrugged. “She was concerned.”

She sighed. “He came to hear me sing. We had dinner. I sang with his band, we went dancing…and then I slept with him,” she ended, her voice flat.

“Whooo! My girl got it on with a rock star.”

“It wasn’t like that,” she snapped. “It wasn’t like that at all.” She got up and started pacing in front of the couch.

“I’ve never seen you so reticent. Dragging stuff out of you tonight is like trying”—she glanced out the window—“like trying to drag a sled over the Iditarod without snow.”

“
Oooh. Million-dollar word, ‘reticent.’”

“Thanks.” Cali smiled. “I pull them out every once in a while.”

“And nice metaphor with the Iditarod and all.”

“Yes, I guess hanging out with you is rubbing off on me. So, girl-with-all-the-words, give me a couple.”

Beth exhaled and came to sit down by her friend again. “I guess it’s a lot harder when you’re not describing things in make-believe world. He-e-e-e was different. He was nice to Cas, and I’ve never laughed so hard in my life, outside of being with you,” she added before Cali could pounce on her.

“Go on.”

“Well, there was an unmistakable physical attraction. I mean, whooo! Red hot. I mean
red hot!
As my mom would say, ‘One cool drink of water.’ When we went dancing—”

“That’s when he made his move?”

“Yeah. I guess you could say that.” She smiled, remembering. “He kissed me, and then I cried.”

“You cried?”

She nodded.

“That bad a kisser?”

“Not hardly. I just, I don’t know. I’m a nut, I guess.”

Cali sat back, appearing to chew on this information for a minute. “Then he asked you to come back to his place?”

“No, I was giving him a ride out to his tour bus—”

“You did it on the tour bus? Way to go.” She held up her hand for a high-five. Beth laughed, but slapped her hand.

“You are not telling anyone about this.”

“Hell, no. Not when you’ve got the whole cheese dip thing to hold over my head.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Beth teased.

“And the sex was...?”

“Good girls don’t kiss and tell.” She paused. “But it was
incredible
.”

“
Oooh, I’m so jealous. And afterward...”

“I left.”

“That’s it? You just left?”

“Well, I had
Cas back at the hotel and...”

“And what?”

“And he’s a rock star. I’m sure he has a different woman every night. It was meaningless.”

“From what you’re saying, it doesn’t sound like that.” Beth remained silent. Cali reached over and touched her hand. “Why did you cry when he kissed you?”

She felt tears welling up. “Because I really liked him. I know I sound like an idiot. I hardly know the man. But…it’s hard to describe...” She tried to rein in her emotions. “And I guess I was, sort of…afraid.”