Читать книгу A Mom for Christmas - Joan Kilby - Страница 9

Chapter 2

Aidan glanced over Nicola, really seeing her for the first time. She seemed an unlikely best friend for Charmaine, who would have outshone her younger cousin by a million watts. He would never have remembered Nicola except that she was in the wedding photo on his bedroom wall. However, she looked sensible, responsible and not in the least frivolous—the perfect antidote to his mother-in-law as caretaker for his overindulged daughter.

Besides, Nicola had been very close to Charmaine—who would be more fitting to care for Emily?

“I think it’s a good idea,” he said. “I appreciate your offer.”

“She’s here on business. She won’t have time,” June protested, clearly upset at being replaced so easily.

“I don’t start work until after New Year’s,” Nicola insisted, her husky voice betraying a faint Australian accent. “Go ahead and join the committee, Aunt June. I know how much you enjoy getting your finger stuck into the community pie.”

“You could use a break from baby-sitting, June,” Aidan added. And Emily needed a break from being spoiled rotten. At times he was tempted to put his daughter in day care but June was still the child’s grandmother and, though she could barely conceal her dislike of him, there was no doubt she adored Emily. “I insist.”

“Well, if you put it like that,” June said stiffly. “Thank you, Nicola, for your help. I do enjoy working on the Christmas Ball.”

As June left the room to call her friend back Aidan felt compelled to warn Nicola, “Emily may look like Charmaine but she isn’t as outgoing as her mother. She doesn’t take to newcomers readily.”

Nicola brushed off his warning with a skeptical lift of one olive-drab shoulder. “She’s just a little shy. We’ll be friends in no time.”

Part of him wanted badly to believe that. For years they’d been a unit, complete within themselves. Now that Emily was going to school he’d begun to realize she needed other people, even if he didn’t.

“I usually bring Emily over before I go to work in the morning then pick her up here after school,” Aidan explained.

“What if I took her home to your house after school, instead?” she suggested. “That way she wouldn’t have such a long day.”

“Even better. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at five-thirty.” He smiled wryly as Nicola’s eyebrows shot into her bangs. “I’m on avalanche control.”

Beneath Emily’s snowsuit she wore one-piece pajamas the color of bubble gum with feet and a hood. She looked like a little pink cat without the whiskers.

“Be very quiet,” Nicola said as they tiptoed up the stairs to the second-floor bedrooms. “Aunt June and Uncle Roy are still sleeping.”

Emily made a motion as if zipping her lips. Nicola smiled; the child couldn’t be too loud if she tried. Nicola paused beside a shut door to the left of the landing. “That was your mom’s room when she was a girl. Maybe you can sleep in there until it’s time to get up for school.”

Emily’s blue eyes widened as she shook her head vigorously. “I’m not allowed to go in there.”

“Oh.” Probably June had made it into a sewing room or something, with objects she didn’t want disturbed by small sticky hands. Nicola turned to the right and opened the door to her room. “In that case you can crawl into bed with me.”

The dresser was cluttered with cameras, film containers and lenses. Her suitcase was open on the chair beside the queen-size bed, her clothes spilling out. Hastily she gathered them up and stuffed them back in, flipping the lid shut.

Emily dutifully got under the covers and lay back on the pillow. “I’m not sleepy,” she whispered in a lisp.

“You can talk in a normal voice now,” Nicola told her with an encouraging smile. “I don’t think Aunt June and Uncle Roy can hear you through these thick walls.”

“I am talking normal,” Emily said, barely audible.

“I see.” Nicola paused. “Do you ever talk louder? Or laugh?”

Emily shook her head and regarded Nicola with a puzzled expression. “Why?”

“Just for fun. Because it makes you feel good.”

“Like putting on a happy face?”

“Hmm, maybe. Show me your happy face.”

Emily scrunched up her eyes and bared her gums, revealing the absence of her two front teeth.

Nicola laughed and gave her a hug. “Snuggle down and keep warm. I’ll read to you.”

Nicola pulled a sheaf of old envelopes from the pocket of her suitcase then crawled into bed and puffed up the pillows. She chose a letter at random and adjusted the table lamp so it shone on the thin blue airmail paper. “This is a letter your mom wrote to me, let’s see, eight years ago. She used to tell me all about her life and what she was doing. I saved all of her letters because they reminded me of her and of home. Your dad’s in here, too.

“Dear Nic,” she began. “We had a blizzard yesterday and we’re snowed in. I was afraid it would be days before I saw Aidan again but he skied over to the house. He looked so handsome with the snow in his hair....”

Nicola recalled him on the doorstep this morning, thick snowflakes falling on his green knitted hat, melting in his black eyelashes. Briefly she tried to imagine Aidan skiing miles in a blizzard just to see her. Huh. As if that would ever happen.

“He asked me to go to the Christmas Ball just as I knew he would. Your mom had a lot of confidence when it came to guys,” Nicola said in an aside to Emily and gave a small wistful sigh for her own lack of it. “Last weekend I bought a new dress—red and slinky with a rhinestone circle in the center front and cut so low you can almost see my— Ahem!” Nicola broke off. “Your mom was the most beautiful girl in all of Whistler and that dress…wow!”

Emily’s eyes were aglow. “Did she look like a fairy princess?”

“Absolutely.” A sexy young princess intent on making her Prince Charming lose his mind, Nicola thought dryly. Which Aidan had, according to the juicy bits Nicola wasn’t going to read aloud. She skipped ahead, past the ball, to a ski trip up Whistler Mountain. “Today Aidan and I skied from The Cirque down the Glacier Bowl to Camel Back then all the way down the mountain on McConkey’s.”

Nicola fell silent, thinking about the sketchy account she’d been given about Charmaine’s death. Those trails were all advanced runs for expert skiers which made her cousin’s fall all the more difficult to understand.

“More,” Emily said sleepily. “I want to hear more.”

Nicola read on, relating Charmaine’s adventures both on the mountain and après skiing, finishing, “I miss you, Nic. Whistler isn’t the same without you. Lots of love, Charmaine.”

Emily’s soft breathing was even and her eyes had fallen shut. Nicola folded the letter and tucked it back in the envelope, recalling the old days in Whistler. Her cousin had dragged Nicola to parties and dances, embarrassing ordeals for a wallflower like herself, but Charmaine always made sure some boy danced with her less popular cousin. If in hindsight her behavior seemed patronizing Nicola knew she’d meant well.

Nicola pulled the covers over her and Emily, checked that the alarm was set and turned out the light. In her sleep Emily wriggled closer. The girl’s small body snuggled against her sent a rush of tenderness through Nicola.

Poor Charmaine, never getting to see her daughter grow up.

Aidan moved carefully across the dark wind- swept ridge near Whistler’s peak, testing the stability of a fresh fall of snow with his ski pole. He and Frederik had come up the mountain on snowmobiles before dawn. Four inches of snow had fallen overnight, creating the possibility of the top layer sliding over the one beneath and starting an avalanche.

Aidan jammed his pole deep into the snow. The top layer shifted a couple of inches and stopped. He watched it a moment more then sidestepped up the slope, moving on.

Down in the valley half an hour earlier, the blurry lights of the snowplows had been traveling slowly up the highway when Aidan, half asleep, bundled Emily into the Land Cruiser. Side roads were blank white rivers and the branches of the trees lining them were weighed down with thick white clumps. At the entrance to Emerald Estates they’d gotten out at the bottom of the hill and walked up the unplowed road to June’s house where a light burned over the snow-blanketed porch.

Nicola, shivering at the gust of chill air, opened the door to his knock in a thick terry-towel robe that dwarfed her slight figure. Her smile had warmed the frigid predawn in a welcome for Emily and his daughter had readily taken her hand after hugging him goodbye.

Here on the peak, all was cold and dark. Close by, Frederik prodded another section of the ridge, working his way toward Aidan. They always operated in pairs, keeping a sharp eye out for each other. Over on Blackcomb Mountain he could hear a series of muffled booms as other members of the avalanche team “shot” the slope with sticks of an explosive emulsion.

White breath wreathing around his head, Frederik trudged across the ridge line toward him. “What do you think? Seems a little unstable to me.”

“A few sections are marginal,” Aidan agreed. “We’ll ski-cut it.”

Pink tinged the sky as Aidan made the first adrenaline-charged crossing of the pristine slope to trigger a small avalanche of the unstable surface layer. The low rumbling tremor of sliding snow made him glance over his shoulder. Balls of snow the size of small boulders tumbled down the mountain behind him. Seconds ahead of the slide, he whooshed to safety on the far side of the bowl. He lifted a hand to Frederik, giving his partner the all-clear signal. Every day Aidan took calculated risks, requiring him to think on his feet; it’s what kept the job interesting.

And a good thing, too, since he took absolutely no risks in his personal life.

By the time Aidan was making his last run the sun had risen above the mountain, turning Whistler Bowl into a glittering crystal goblet. He and Frederik returned to the bump room where the rest of the patrol was arriving for duty. The assistant patrol manager, Bob, a fit-looking fifty-year-old, briefed them on snow conditions then broke the patrollers into groups and assigned them zones. They were to ski the runs, checking for problems and fixing them before the lifts started operating.

Bob paused and a few people began to stir, thinking he was finished. Then he held up a hand. “I have an announcement. You’re all aware I was on sick leave last month. What you may not know is the reason. I suffered a minor heart attack.”

He was forced to pause while people turned to each other with expressions of shock and disbelief. When the noise died down, Bob continued. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since then, weighing up my options. I’ve decided to take early retirement, as of the new year.” Again, Bob had to hold up his hands to quell the clamor. “Anyone interested in my job is invited to submit an application to Human Resources. Now, let’s get out on the mountain before the skiers arrive.”

Everyone stood where they were, still stunned by the turn of events until Aidan drew on his hat and gloves and headed for the door. Then, in a swish of Gore-Tex and clumping of ski boots on wood, the ski patrollers shuffled out of the bump room.

“Aidan.” Rich’s voice brought Aidan to a halt.

Aidan signaled to Frederik to go ahead. “Hey, Rich. What’s up?”

“I can’t believe Bob’s retiring,” Rich said. “How could he have a heart attack? He’s so healthy.”

“I gather heart problems run in his family,” Aidan said. “We’re losing a friend as well as a great boss.”

Rich pulled on his gloves and took out the knitted hat stuffed in his pocket. “Will you apply for the job?”

“Probably,” Aidan said. “And you?”

“Of course. It’s a great opportunity.” He paused and squinted sideways at Aidan. “You don’t think…nah, never mind.”

“What?” Aidan glanced through the open door to where Frederik was waiting.

“I just wondered if management would give you a hard time over what happened, you know, with Charmaine.”

“That was a long time ago,” Aidan protested. But the mere reminder started a gnawing feeling in his stomach.

“You’re right. Forget I mentioned it.” Rich tugged his hat over his head and clapped Aidan on the shoulder. “Catch you later, buddy.”

He strode off, leaving Aidan in turmoil. Would the Whistler Mountain management team have forgotten, or at least forgiven, the cloud that surrounded him over what happened six years ago? Now that Emily was old enough to understand the rumors that still circulated about him, the last thing he wanted was for the circumstances of Charmaine’s death to be raked up again.

Frederik was waiting for Aidan outside by the ski rack. He took one look at Aidan’s face and said, “Something is wrong, ja?”

Aidan put on his mirrored sunglasses. He literally trusted Frederik with his life, he had to in this job, but he couldn’t bring himself to confide in him. “I was just thinking about Emily.”

Frederik slid his skis out of the rack and dropped them to the ground to lock his boots into the bindings. “You worry about your daughter too much. Relax. Whatever is the problem, everything will be okay,” he advised. “Kids are tougher than you think.”

For Emily’s sake, Aidan hoped he was right.

Nicola got behind the wheel of June’s Suburban and familiarized herself with the controls. Emily was sitting in the back, blond hair braided and tucked under her bright multicolored hat. June sat in the front passenger seat and clasped her gloved hands tightly together as if to stop herself from reaching over and taking control of the car.

“Are you sure you know how to drive on the right side of the road?” June asked nervously. “It’s not like Australia.”

“No problem,” Nicola replied breezily. Her aunt had arranged a ride home with a neighbor, leaving Nicola use of the vehicle; and Nicola refused to be stuck home simply because she’d learned to drive on the left-hand side of the road. The snow-packed streets added an unexpected challenge, but she’d bluffed her way through more difficult situations than this.

“Well, okay,” June said doubtfully. “Turn right when you get to the highway.”

“I know.” Nicola turned off the radio, the better to concentrate, and backed out of the driveway. Emerald Drive had been plowed while they were having breakfast but was nevertheless more like one wide lane than two. She pointed the vehicle downhill. So far so good.

Once they were on the highway it was easier; she could follow other cars. She dropped June off at the Whistler Conference Center for her committee meeting before taking Emily on to Myrtle Philip Elementary.

“My other grandmother lives there,” Emily said, pointing down the road toward the Tapley Estate.

Nicola remembered attending a prewedding dinner at Aidan’s parents’ house in one of the older subdivisions in Whistler. His father’s business was building log homes and his mother was a public health nurse. Aidan had two brothers—no, one brother and a cousin who had grown up with them. She remembered being overawed by the three handsome athletic young men.

Cars were lined up along the school road for parents to drop their children off. Nicola maneuvered the big vehicle into a vacated slot and parked. Snowballs flew in the playground and some of the children were sliding down a small hill on plastic disks.

Nicola took Emily’s hand and walked up the scraped and salted paved walk to the front doors of the school. “Your grandmother called to tell the principal I’d be picking you up,” she explained to the girl. “I’ll come in and introduce myself to your teacher so she knows who I am.”

“I’ll take you to my classroom,” Emily said importantly. “You can see my picture of a snowman.”

As they entered the building a striking blond woman came out. Her bright red hat and tailored winter coat trimmed with black fur matched the color of her lips. She wore black leather gloves and leather fashion boots.

“Hi, Emily.” She smiled at the girl and eyed Nicola with friendly curiosity. She hesitated as if she would have stopped to talk, but Emily tugged on Nicola’s hand, leading her into the school.

“Who was that?” Nicola glanced over her shoulder to see the other woman also looking back.

“My auntie Angela.”

“Is she married to your dad’s brother?” Nicola guessed.

Emily nodded. “Uncle Nate.”

“Do her kids go to school here, too?”

“She doesn’t have any kids, but sometimes she drops off Ricky. He’s in grade six. She’s his aunt, too, but he’s not my cousin.” Emily gave a puzzled sigh. “Grandma explained it but I don’t really understand.”

Nicola was still trying to work out the family tree when Emily stopped in front of a classroom. The walls were covered with wobbly snowmen with black pipes and bowler hats and folded paper cutout snowflakes. “That’s mine,” Emily said, pointing to one of the drawings.

“It’s very good,” Nicola commended. “After school we can build a snowman in the backyard.”

Nicola glanced through the open door. An older woman dressed in black pants and a red and green sweater with a Christmas motif was seated at a desk at the front of the room, marking papers. She looked vaguely familiar. “What’s your teacher’s name?”

“Mrs. Winston.”

“Mrs. Winston?” Nicola laughed in surprise. “She was my teacher in Squamish, before they had schools in Whistler.” Although the older woman’s hair was now gray, she wore it in the same smooth page-boy style as she had years ago. Nicola knocked on the door to announce her presence.

Mrs. Winston glanced up and asked politely, “May I help you?” Then she noticed Emily. “Good morning, Emily. Is this your cousin who’s looking after you for a while?”

“Second cousin, actually,” Nicola said coming into the room. “I’m Nicola Bond. You probably don’t remember me. I was in your grade five class back in—oh, I can’t remember the year. Emily’s mother, Charmaine, was my cousin.”

Mrs. Winston rose and came forward, hand outstretched. “Nicola! I remember all my students. You were a quiet thing but you had such neat handwriting. I thought your family moved to Australia.”

“That’s right, Mrs. Winston. My parents bought a small farm outside Sydney. I’m here for work and to visit my aunt and uncle.”

“Please, call me Sara,” she said, smiling. “Is this the first time you’ve been back?”

“I was a bridesmaid at Charmaine’s wedding.” Her smile faded and she cast a quick glance toward Emily. The girl had gone to her desk midway down the far row. “I didn’t get back for her funeral.”

Sara shook her head and commiserated in a low voice. “A terrible tragedy. Poor Emily, only a baby. And the way Aidan’s been pilloried by the community.”

“What do you mean?” Nicola asked. “Why would he be pilloried?”

Sara frowned, as if suddenly realizing she’d said too much, and went back to her desk. “Nothing. It was just mean-spirited gossip.”

“Gossip about what?” Nicola persisted.

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Sara replied, shifting a pile of her students’ printing exercises to one side. “I thought you’d know all about it since you’re part of the family.”

“My father and June are brother and sister but they’ve never been particularly close. The most they communicate is a card and a family photo at Christmas.”

“You should talk to your aunt,” Sara told her. “It’s not my place to say anything.”

“June isn’t comfortable talking about Charmaine.” Nicola put a hand on her teacher’s arm. “I’m probably going to run into this again and I have to deal with Emily’s father. Please tell me what’s going on.”

“Well, all right,” Sara said but with obvious reluctance. “It’s not as though it’s a secret. Everyone in Whistler talked about your cousin’s death for years afterward. The case still divides the town. The coroner’s inquest came back with a finding of death by misadventure. But although some people swear he’s innocent, others are equally certain that…well, her death was no accident.”

Nicola stared at the woman, hoping she wasn’t hearing correctly. “You mean,” she said carefully, “Aidan had something to do with Charmaine’s death?”

Sara Winston’s worried gaze met Nicola’s scrutiny and she chewed her lip. “Aidan is a wonderful father and a supportive member of the school community. He—”

Her next words were cut off by the ringing of the school bell. “I’m sorry,” Sara said, rising. “You’ll have to excuse me. The children will be coming in any second.”

A door banged open down the hall and suddenly the air was filled with chattering, laughing kids and the drumming of booted feet on linoleum.

Nicola moved closer to be heard above the noise. “If Charmaine’s fall from the mountain wasn’t an accident—”

“Some say she was pushed,” Sara whispered.

Nicola felt the blood drain from her cheeks. Her ears rang with echoes of the school bell. “Who would do such a thing?”

Long seconds passed while Sara Winston hesitated, clearly wishing she’d never started this conversation. At last she said, “Aidan was the only one there.”