Everybody's Daughter (20 page)

“I just thought you’d be happier if you got out of here.”

“And the story, Martin? What was that you wrote? ‘How long could she resist the hand…”

“Fiction.”

“Fiction? You used me for fiction? That doesn’t feel so good, Martin.”

“I used Andy too. Remember what you told me he said when you two broke up? Those are his thoughts. I stole them.” He shifted weight. “Merry, wise up. If there’s any guy patiently holding out his hand for you, it’s Andy. Not me. Andy.”

“Then why did you do it, Martin? Why did you have to come on like you were just waiting for something, and then turn it into a story?”

“You’re really mad, aren’t you? Hey, remember the day we met? I promised to stifle a desire to snoop. But I didn’t promise not to watch.”

“That day I skied to your cabin—what was that about being an idiot?”

“That was harsh. Sorry.”

“Yes, it was. What did you mean?”

Martin waited, then spoke slowly. “Merry, you are as beautiful a girl as I have seen in a long time. And terrific company. But I’m no fool.” He stepped closer.

Beamer crossed her arms and shifted her weight. Martin stopped.

“The guy who gets you gets the Woodies. I’ve had fun with them this winter, but that’s all I want. When next term begins at school, I’m gone, and I don’t want to come back for every damn holiday, or birthday, or baby, or bombing. Andy can take it on; I won’t.”

A dark figure appeared in the cabin window. Martin saw it, then again moved closer to Beamer. “Besides, Katie means too much for me to risk losing her for some entanglement with a high school girl.”

High school girl. The statement of fact was like a slap.

“Well, if she means so much to you, I hope you burned your phone list before she arrived. It might upset her to know how you were mending your broken heart.”

“I put it away. She won’t get upset.”

“Put it away! You mean it comes back out as soon as she goes? What about entanglements?”

“Doesn’t apply to those girls.”

Beamer shook her head. “Martin, don’t the people in your life have any meaning for you?”

Martin tucked his hands under his arms. “I’m sorry for what went wrong. Does it have to change everything?” He reached tentatively to touch Beamer, then stuffed his hand into his jeans pocket. “Please, Merry, I don’t want to lose this friendship.” He smiled broadly and his voice lightened. “You’re the best skiing buddy I’ve ever had.”

Beamer looked again at Katie’s silhouette, then at Martin. “Skiing buddy?” She shook her head. “I don’t think that would be fair to Andy. It’s time I start thinking about that. I’m going to get Daniel.”

Daniel had the car engine off and the radio on. Beamer slid into the driver’s seat. “Well, Moonbeam, hello,” he said.

“This is lousy weather for delivering girlfriends, Daniel.”

“You sound just like your mother when you lecture, Beamo.”

“How’s the foot?”

“Hurts.” He closed his eyes. “It hurts quite a lot.” She looked at his calm, unshaven profile, a face so familiar she could conjure its details with her eyes closed.

“I’ll take you home, Daniel.”

“Will you, Moonbeam? I’m only an old hippie, hardly deserving of the help.”

She punched him lightly on the arm. “Stuff the sarcasm, old man. You’re in pain, remember? Let’s drag you home now.”

He sat behind her on the snowmobile with his arms around her waist. She retraced her path around the lake, and anticipating the rough trail this time, she slowed down. Still, with every jolt Daniel moaned, a low vibration against her back. At the clearing she stopped and stepped off. She knelt and checked the bandage on his foot, rewrapping it and tucking in the trailing, bloody ends. She surveyed the path ahead and the empty expanse of frozen lake. The blizzard was letting up, and Beamer could see the light of the patrol car parked by the bait shop, the rotating red beam cutting a swath through the snow. She got back on the snowmobile and wrapped Daniel’s arms around her.

“Moonbeam,” Daniel shouted above the engine’s drone, “I saw you being born. I was there.”

“No, you weren’t, Daniel. You were asleep in the kitchen.”

“Well, I’ve seen the pictures. That counts.”

She squeezed his hand, and they resumed their ride home against a lighter snowfall and weaker wind. This storm was over.