Charlaine Harris - A Fool and His Honey

“Oh my God,” I said, stunned. I stared at the heavy white coating. “Oh. Wow.” From one horizon to the next, it was the same. “I’ve never seen that much snow in my life.”

“I almost wish we had a sled,” he said.

“I almost wish I had a cup of coffee.”

“Coming right up.” Martin was awful damn cheerful. Who could have guessed snow would have that effect? I sat there in a semiconscious lump while Martin heated the baby bottle, started the coffee, and made toast with a beautiful toaster that had to have been a wedding present for Regina and Craig.

Martin even hummed. He is not a hummer.

He took Hayden and gave him his bottle. “Look out there, fella. Snow everywhere! When you get bigger you can bundle up and go out there and make snow angels and pee in the snow and make a snowman…”

I sensed a theme.

By the time Martin had wound down, I had had time to pour two cups of coffee down my throat and eat my toast, too.

“Can we get out of here?” I asked. I took my third cup with me to the window. “I mean, can your car get out of the driveway?”

Martin looked serious, all of a sudden. He loves that Mercedes, for sure.

“I’ll call Karl,” he said, and vanished.

I tried to remember Karl from our wedding, which Martin had assured me Karl attended. I was drawing a blank. Of course, I’d been so nervous I was surprised I’d gotten the responses right.

I occupied myself by spreading towels by the kitchen sink to give Hayden that quick sponge bath I felt obliged to give him. He hated it just as much as he had the last time I’d tried this process, maybe even objecting more loudly because it was so cold. I’d already had dark doubts about this little ritual, which Amina had assured me was obligatory. After all, how dirty could Hayden get? I cleaned his bottom every time I changed him.

But I dutifully soaped the hands that never grasped food, and the feet that never took a step. At least, I told myself bracingly, all this complaining would surely wear out the baby, resulting in a good nap.

“Karl’s coming out,” Martin told me.

“Great. Remind me about Karl?”

“Karl Bagosian, whose family was Armenian a couple of generations ago. He went to school with me, though he’s a couple of years older.”

“So what does Karl do now?”

“He owns the Jeep place.”

I nodded wisely. It was all becoming clear.

“So you fellas were buddies through school?”

Martin shrugged. “Yeah, we were. We were on the football team together. We went hunting together. He dated Barby for a while. We joined the army together.”

“Speaking of high school buddies, what’s the story on Dennis Stinson?”

“I always hated that son of a bitch,” my husband said, with very little change in his voice.

“He seemed nice to me.” I tried to look innocent. “Just because he’s moved in on your ex-wife…”

“Cindy and I have been divorced for a long time,” Martin said. “I don’t think it’s that… or maybe, not much. And he tried to copy off my paper in geometry.” I couldn’t help it, I started laughing. Martin had the grace to look abashed. “Dennis just… I wouldn’t have minded Cindy living with someone, if it had been Karl. But Karl went and got himself married to a girl that just got out of college, right about the same time you and I got married. He’s got kids older than her, I think.”

If the amazing Karl was going to bring us a Jeep, I needed to get dressed. Jeans, a sweater, and boots seemed to be the uniform of the day, judging by Martin, who seemed to be more relaxed than he’d been in days. He even laid Hayden in the middle of our bed and brushed my hair for me, a pleasant pastime we hadn’t had a chance to indulge in lately.

Since Hayden remained content, I called my mother, but missed her both at her house and at the hospital. I left a message on her answering machine, and talked to John’s oldest son at the hospital. He said his father was on the upswing, that they hoped to take him home the next day, and he knew my mother would want to tell me all the details. He further informed me that my mother was holding up just fine, which I hadn’t doubted for a second.

Next I called Angel and Shelby to ask about the baby, found out little Joan was perfect in every respect, and Angel was recovering from the birth in record time.

I handed the phone to Martin so he could call the Pan-Am Agra plant, but he told me he’d already talked to his second-in-command that morning. I glanced at my watch and winced. If you wanted to work for Martin, you had to get up early and be bright the minute you slid from between your sheets.

“But I do need to talk to David in Receiving,” Martin decided. He punched in numbers wearing his business face, so I went downstairs and poured another cup of coffee.

Just then I heard a chugging noise, and looking out the window I saw a bright red Jeep coming through the snow. I could only assume it was on the driveway.

A man hopped out and began slogging his way to the front door.

Karl Bagosian was about Martin’s height, maybe five-nine or five-ten. His head was bare, and I saw that his hair was very thick and coarse, very dark, though graying, an attractive complement to his olive complexion. Martin was still on the phone, so I unlocked the door and threw it open.

“Hello,” Karl said, looking up at the sound. He gave me a comprehensive but brief scan, and lowered his eyes to make sure he’d stamped all the snow off his boots. Satisfied, he pulled off the boots and left them by the door, padding further into the living room unself-consciously, and I began to see this was the protocol in snow country.

“I’m Aurora. Thank you for bringing the Jeep. Martin says he’s known you forever.”

“Just about.” Karl had finished divesting himself of several layers of outerwear, and finally looked me in the eyes.

Karl Bagosian had the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen on a man. On anyone. Large, oval, very dark, fringed by eyelashes most women could only dream of, those eyes could speak to you long enough to talk you right out of your clothes and into Karl’s bed.

“Well, I feel like a female peacock,” I said, mildly disgruntled. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Yes, please,” he said, after a surprised hesitation. Karl preceded me to the kitchen, and I had to remind myself he’d been here many times before… before I was born, no doubt. Karl had thickened a little with middle age, and he had white teeth that gleamed like an actor’s. He sat at the kitchen table watching me, while I poured a mug of coffee and placed it before him with milk and sugar handy.

“If you haven’t had breakfast I would be glad to make you some toast,” I offered. “Martin’s on the phone; he’ll be down in just a minute.”

“This is southern hospitality, the kind I keep hearing about, I guess.”

“It’s just hospitality. How else would I treat you?”

He had no answer for that. “This is some mess about Regina, huh?” he asked, looking up at me with those gorgeous eyes. He poured sugar in his coffee with a liberal hand. I watched in amazement as he did the same with the milk. It hardly looked like coffee anymore.

I propped myself against the kitchen counter. “Did you know Craig?”

“Yeah, he stole a car from my lot.”

“What did you do?”

“I went after him and got it back.” And the large dark eyes didn’t look so gorgeous anymore. In fact they looked downright scary. I realized I was very glad I hadn’t been there when Karl had gotten his car back.

“Mr. Vigilante,” Martin said from the doorway. He meant to be smiling when he said it, but the smile came off lame. He’d heard the whole conversation.