Warming Trend (5 page)

Dina’s arrival, with her toddler and a port-a-playpen, was a happy diversion from the little voice that wanted to know how many more times she’d tell herself “next summer.” The child was quickly stowed and Tonk abandoned the adoration of the shoes to take up a protective position. Sitting, he could put his chin on the railing of the playpen, which delighted the little one to no end.

Eve was competent enough at spreading filling, and even piping frosting, but Dina was the master at fondant and flowers. For the next hour they worked together to finish the three-layer cake. Dina’s swirl of iris petals and leaves climbing pristine white sides were exactly what the bride wanted.

“It’s nearly four,” Bennie said. “I’ve done all I can here. Do you want me to start loading?”

“Yes, or we’ll be late.”

“Weddings always run late,” Dina said.

“True except when the caterer is late. Then they are distressingly on time.”

The heavy commercial van that had served her business for almost a decade held plenty of room for the stacking bins and trays. Bennie had a lot of the food squared away before Eve could help much, and while she finished, Bennie changed into the chef’s smock and black slacks they wore for service. She made a likewise quick change, and minutes later they waved at Dina, who was packing up the baby and materials and would lock up the house. So far, so good everything was on its usual breakneck pace schedule.

It was a relief to get to the reception hall and find no one from the wedding party had arrived yet. The doors were unlocked and tables inside were already decorated with sprays of iris, baby’s breath and pink-tinted carnations. She and Bennie moved all the food to the industrial kitchen and got down to their business. By the time the leading edge of the celebrants arrived, everything was spread out on mirrored platters and chafing dishes and arranged on the white tablecloths. It was a beautiful summer evening and it passed in a blur of heating, arranging, serving, and replenishing. She personally served cake after the ceremonial cutting, and was pleased by the compliments the food received.

The payment plus tip was a hefty sum, and she headed home at eleven, glad there was still an hour of daylight. Bennie motored off into the night and Eve banged her way through the dirty dishes in the kitchen and congratulated herself for not calling Neeka once.

“Sit!” Tonk immediately complied and deftly caught the cooked shrimp she tossed his way. Scrapings from various bowls and cook pots she put in a dog dish and set on the floor where Tonk’s food always went. There was very little he wouldn’t eat and as Bennie had said, feeding a Newfie was a commitment. Tonk was tall enough to butt her in the butt, and knock her down if he meant it. Not that her gentle giant would ever do that, unless it was for her safety. She scratched Tonk’s back while he cleaned the dish and she waited for water to boil for her favorite chai tea.

“What a day, boy, and I have a nice, big check in my pocket to show for it. Tomorrow we’ll go to the ATM—you remind me. If we don’t, Bennie and Dina aren’t going to be able to cash their checks. Everything will go bouncy-bouncy.” After one last pat, she poured out her tea, finally feeling all the stress of the day drain out of her shoulders.

She let Tonk out for a last investigation of the yard and wandered to the edge of the deck that stretched the length of the house. She loved the faint aroma of cedar that clung to the new siding. The temperature couldn’t be much cooler than about fifty. With sunset finally approaching, nature’s fireworks of green and gold, with rare flares of vibrant pink, were dancing over the northern horizon.

Maybe it was the clank of Tonk’s collar, or the rising lights, or simply that it was summer. Whatever the reason, her earlier thoughts of Ani couldn’t be pushed away so easily. Their first date had been a night like this.

And Ani’s first words: “You make deviled eggs the way my mother did.”

Eve had glanced up, trying to look as if she was paying attention, and only got a quick glimpse of neck. She plated more smoked salmon, toasted rye bread and seasoned cream cheese before she glanced again, this time much higher up. The woman was black-haired and very tall, probably the tallest person in the room, and Eve knew that if she’d ever seen her before, she’d have remembered. “It’s just a basic recipe and some fancy work with a piping bag, but thank you.”

“Spicy mustard.” The woman licked her fingers with such casualness that Eve knew she had to be a student, not faculty. She also didn’t look much past twenty-five, and her well-worn jeans and practical Windshear vest over a plain white button-up shirt, underscored her student budget. She couldn’t be just any student, though, not at a faculty soiree. Grad assistant, Eve decided.

“Do I use it? Well, I can’t stand it if it’s just mayonnaise.” Taking into account that the last thing people at these parties did was talk to the caterer, she asked, “Is this your first event like this?”

She got a nod in return. “I was just accepted to the doctoral program at GlacierPort. Monica Tyndell is going to be my advisor.”

“Congratulations!” Eve was impressed. “Professor Tyndell is a bona fide, pardon the pun, rock star.”

“Are you a student?” The woman gestured at the table and plates. “Working your way through?”

Eve laughed even though she didn’t give the young woman many points for powers of observation. “Aren’t you sweet? I’m older than I look I own the company doing the catering.”

“That’s cool. You must love food.”

“I do.”

“So you’re running your business in what makes you happy.”

“Well, I was never much of a student you probably have more education than I do.”

The woman frowned, her dark eyebrows assuming a deep vee. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Nothing, it’s just…” Eve arranged another plate of food for a faculty member who gave a vague nod of recognition. She’d catered his holiday party six months ago. After he wandered away, she finished, “This particular group of people puts a high value on alphabets after your name. I have none, so…”

“My father didn’t have any, and he knew more than most of the profs at GlacierPort. But they wouldn’t let him teach there because his knowledge was mostly hands-on. So I know what you mean.”

Not your typical rock student at all, Eve decided. GlacierPort was fairly exclusive and she was used to being looked at from on high. “Are you following in his footsteps?” A small part of Eve’s mind was noting that she’d never seen anyone with nearly black eyes before.

“That’s my plan.
With
the alphabet soup after my name. It’ll be
Doctor
Bycall by the time I’m done.”

“Well, good luck.” She wiped her hands on her chef’s apron and extended her right hand. “I’m Eve.”

“Ani.”

The clasp of hands across the serving table lasted long enough for Eve to take a quick breath and think,
She’s gay. Good
.

Whatever Ani thought didn’t show in those dark eyes. But she said, “What are you doing after this?”

“Washing dishes.” No, she added to herself, it wasn’t good that she’d been pleased that Ani was gay, not good at all. She had no time, and Ani was too young, and their worlds didn’t overlap, and…lots of reasons why she shouldn’t be thinking about how tall Ani was taller than Cyndy by at least five inches.

“Have you been out on a glacier at midnight?”

“I can’t say that I have. I tend to be asleep by midnight.”

“The northern lights are casting pink right now. It’s really spectacular reflected off the ice.”

Eve didn’t hide her skepticism. “Is this a geologist’s version of asking a girl to see her etchings?”

Ani blinked. “I wasn’t I mean… You’re the most interesting person I’ve talked to all night. I was going to go out to watch the lights later and I thought…”

Eve tipped her head to one side and waited. Bingo Ani blushed. It started low, just a faint pink at the cheeks, then it blossomed into a full-scale red that washed down to her throat. “After a couple minutes of conversation you thought I might want to see the lights, that’s all.”

“Right.” The red deepened.

How cute is that, Eve asked herself. How surprising, too, that she took delight in torturing the woman into blushing, but it felt like a defensive tactic. Like she needed to prove she could get under Ani’s skin because Ani able to express appreciation for something as simple as a deviled egg might be able to get under hers. It had been a really long time since anyone had even tried to chat her up. She was over thirty, by a year, and students were usually horrified by the idea of involvement with someone they’d call
ma’am
. Men seemed to appreciate her curves which might be a little too plump at the middle but still filled out jeans nicely, in her opinion but not so much the lesbians. There just weren’t that many of them, and, well, the Monica Tyndells of the world weren’t interested in a curvy caterer. With someone like Tyndell around, those who might find Eve attractive were too dazzled to notice. Profs dated profs or dabbled with their grad assistants. Anyway, Professor Tyndell wasn’t her type, and she’d watched the good professor work a room at parties like this one dozens of times. She couldn’t escape the feeling that even in an intimate relationship, Tyndell still worked it.

Ani’s blush was fading and Eve thought she was on the verge of mumbling something and leaving, so she quickly said, “I guess the only way to prove the innocence of your intentions is to go with you and see if you spring any etchings on me.”

Ani blinked again, but this time there was an obviously appreciative gleam of humor in her eyes. “We’ll see, then.”

“I’ll be out of here at nine thirty, and probably done with what I need to do at home by eleven. I
have
to go home first, dirty dishes cannot wait for morning.”

“Okay. How about I pick you up?”

Eve couldn’t resist. “Didn’t you just do that?”

Ani blushed again it was absolutely delightful. This blush wasn’t as deep, probably because Ani was grinning. “Why yes I did. What’s your address?”

Eve told her how to find the house and spent the rest of the party in a subdued state of puzzlement and excitement together with dread and curiosity. She hadn’t been on a date in at least a year. What would she wear? Would she have time for a shower? She hadn’t any clue what music was hot right now with the college crowd that’s what she got for having no space in her life for MySpace. The demon of self-doubt said things like “She’s just a kid” and “It won’t last the summer” to which the angel of spontaneity asked, “What does that have to do with it?”

Scrubbing herself in the five minutes she thought she could safely allow for a shower, she calmed her nerves by pointing out that just because Ani had decided she was a decent conversationalist didn’t mean there was any reason for anything to go any further. Watching northern lights on a glacier was Ani’s way of asking her out to coffee, and that was all. It wasn’t a pity date, either. She knew exactly what that felt like and Ani had not seemed the type to expect good things merely because she’d asked out the non-beauty queen.

She quickly brushed the snarls out of her hair as she blasted it with the hand dryer. Why hadn’t she said eleven thirty, and given herself time to at least put on some eyeliner or blush? Her mother’s steadfast insistence that Eve’s face was interesting, and would be handsome when she was older, didn’t change the fact that her nose was a little too pert, her eyes a little too wide and unremarkably blue and her lips too pink and thin. Her little brother had called her hair
yellow
when she’d been about seven, cementing her belief that no matter what, she’d never be a
blonde
. In a climate that produced strong, vibrant beauty, she had never compared favorably.

Yanking a thick shepherd’s sweater over her head she tried to get her hair to look as if she cared, and finally bundled the shoulder-length mess into a warm fleece beanie that had matched her eyes before repeated trips through the laundry. Liners of her favorite silk and cotton blend thermals went on before the dark-washed jeans. She was just pulling on wicking thermal socks when she heard a car in the driveway.

“I have an insulated tarp, a blanket and a thermal power source in the truck,” Ani said promptly. She’d changed into a thick gray flannel shirt and a body-hugging lined vest of vivid magenta.

Eve stood aside to let her into the house. “We need provisions, don’t you think?”

“I can tell you’re a cook.” In spite of heavy boots, Ani’s tread was still light.

“Chef.” Eve led the way to the kitchen, glad there was no sign of the latest ant outbreak around the front door, and that she’d hurriedly stuffed the stack of newspapers that collected in the entryway into the recycling.

“Chef, sorry. Can I help with the provisions?”

“Yes.” Eve put Ani to work mashing and bashing dates and almonds together with chocolate chips and a small amount of simple syrup, while she made a Thermos full of hot chocolate. The two of them finished by spreading her mixture onto graham crackers.

“The perfect energy food,” Ani pronounced. “My dad would have approved.”

“When did he pass on?”

“Last year. I still think about him a lot. My mom died when I was eight and so it was him and me.”

“I’m sorry.” Eve wrapped the graham sandwiches in neat folds of wax paper. “I’m lucky, I guess. My folks are alive and well, and living in Oregon. The winters got too hard. I’ve a brother who lives in Juneau. I don’t seem him often he’s Pentecostal, not hateful to me or anything, but…not a lot to talk about over dinner since I came out.”

Ani took charge of the little picnic basket when Eve was done adding napkins, water and wedges of leftover pizza. She liked that Ani hadn’t questioned the necessity. In spite of their knowing better, every year a couple of students died for lack of water and food. Ice fog, a freak storm shelter could be twenty feet away and invisible. Nature in these parts showed how evolution worked: the foolish didn’t survive.

“Thank you, this will be delicious later.”

“You’re welcome.” Eve locked the front door behind them. “Do you do this often?”

“Only in summer. The Bycalls aren’t suicidal. We know to come in when the temperature gets below zero.”