Maggie Shayne - Colder Than Ice

“I don’t know.” He dragged his gaze away from hers. “Listen, if you have suggestions, advice, I’d be more than happy to hear it.”

“I don’t know a damn thing about being a parent.” She looked away, thinking of Dawny, the hole in her heart yawning wider. “But I know a little about teenagers. I taught in a public school for seven years.”

“I didn’t know that,” he said.

She frowned at him. “Funny, I had the feeling you did.”

“No. I don’t think Maude mentioned it. What did you teach?”

“English Eleven and Twelve, mostly. I offered to tutor Bryan in English Twelve, so he would only have History and Spanish to catch up on. He’ll be fine, if he does the work.”

Josh settled back into his chair, seeming to relax a little. “So you think I should let him take the semester off, so long as he sticks with the tutoring?”

“I think you should consider agreeing to that, yes.” She sipped her tea. “But don’t count on it lasting. Once he meets some of the local kids, makes a few friends and has time to get bored out of his mind, he’s going to decide to go back to school. If you let me tutor him until then, he won’t be behind when he does.”

He nodded slowly. “For someone who doesn’t know much about parenting, you’re pretty good.” She shrugged, and he went on. “Seriously, you’re light-years ahead of me. Okay. Let’s do it—the tutoring thing, I mean.”

“Okay.”

The screen door creaked open, and Bryan stepped out onto the porch with a toaster pastry in one hand and a glass of chocolate milk in the other. Both had to have been in the pickup, because neither would have been within a mile of Maude’s kitchen.

“Good morning, Bryan,” Maude called, sounding as cheerful as if she hadn’t noticed a thing out of the ordinary this morning, much less overheard his fight with his father. “Did you sleep well?”

He offered her a halfhearted smile, his dark hair falling over his forehead before he pushed it back. It was so much like the way Josh had pushed his hand through his hair earlier that Beth almost smiled.

Bryan avoided his father’s eyes. “Slept better than I do in the city, that’s for sure.”

“Well, now that you’re up, I’ll get your breakfast out of the oven.”

“Oh, that’s okay, I made my own.”

Maude looked at his pastry and rolled her eyes. “That is not a breakfast. It’s a future health crisis. Now, I’ve had a real meal staying warm in the oven for you for the past hour.” She glanced at Beth. “Join us, dear?”

“No way, Maude. I eat one of your meals, I’ll be crawling home instead of running.”

“Oh…you’re going home?” Bryan asked. He sounded a little…off.

“That’s the plan, Bry.”

He shot his father a look, and Beth got the feeling their earlier argument was suddenly the furthest thing from the young man’s mind. “Well, why don’t you stay? You can, uh, talk to my dad about that tutoring thing.”

Something had certainly snapped Bryan out of his petulant state. “I already did that,” she said. “Was kind of surprised you hadn’t done it yourself by now.”

He nodded, all but admitting he probably should have clued his old man in.

“I gotta go. See you at noon, Bryan?” She reached for her tea to finish the cup.

“Uh, yeah, about that…” Bryan began. He sent his father another quick look, as if uncertain whether to speak.

“What is it, Bry?” Josh asked.

“It’s probably nothing. I mean, one summer in the city and all of the sudden, I’m paranoid, you know?” He offered a half smile and shrugged. “Can’t help it, though.”

Beth frowned at him. “Paranoid about what?”

“It’s just…there’s been a car parked up the road a little ways for a while now. I can just see it from my bedroom window.”

Beth’s hand jerked, and the still-hot tea sloshed onto her bare legs. She sucked air through her teeth and wiped it away with her hand.

Maude handed her a napkin. “Oh, it’s probably someone bird-watching or checking on the progress of the foliage,” she said. “We have a lot of nature lovers living in these parts, and this time of year every leaf-peeper in the country seems to show up. Was it a red Blazer, Bryan? That would be my nearest neighbor Frankie Parker. Loves to watch the birds, that one.”

“No, it’s a brown sedan. Chrysler, I think.”

“Brown Chrysler,” Maude repeated to herself. “Maybe I should give Frankie a call.”

When they all looked at her oddly, Beth clarified for them. “Frankie’s the police chief.”

“Oh.” Bryan nodded. “Right next door, that’s handy.”

“Well, right next door is a half mile, but still…” Maude said.

Beth dabbed the tea from her thighs and tried not to notice Josh’s scrutiny, until he forced it. “Call me a paranoid city slicker, if you want, but, um…why don’t you let me take you home, Beth? Just to be on the safe side.”

She looked up at him, crushed the damp napkin in her hand and shook her head. “I may not look like much, Joshua, but trust me, I can handle myself.” She glanced at Bryan. “Oh, and I almost forgot.” She dug into her shorts pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. “You’ll need these books for our session today. You can pick them up at Books Ink, in town.”

“Cool. I can pick them up right now and drop you off on my way,” Bryan said.

What was with these two? You’d think she was made of glass, the way they were acting. “And miss out on the great breakfast your grandmother made you?” Beth asked. “No, I don’t think so. Besides, I live in the opposite direction. And I run for a reason. I’m not messing up my daily routine by taking the lazy way home.”

Bryan looked at his father. Joshua sighed and glanced at Maude.

Maude frowned. Then she lifted her chin. “Joshua, go change your clothes. She won’t let you drive her, so you can run with her. And, Beth, don’t even begin to argue with me. I’ll worry myself sick if you go off alone.”

“Since when is there anything in Blackberry scary enough to worry you, Maude Bickham?”

“Since you got so scared you spilled tea on yourself at the mention of a strange car, young lady. Now, my word is law, and I have spoken. Finish your tea while Josh changes his clothes.”

“Fine. Fine, he can run with me.” She looked at Josh as he rushed into the house and added, “If he can keep up!”

Beth was running faster than her normal pace in honor of his presence; Josh was sure of it. He broke a sweat ten minutes in, but he wasn’t complaining. It felt good to run. It had been too long. He watched the lengthening and flexing of her calf muscles and her thighs with every stride, and he thought it was too damn cold to wear shorts, and yet he was irrationally glad she had. She was probably as strong as she claimed she was. She certainly ran like she meant it. Not that it would matter much if some maniac came after her.

She wasn’t happy about Maude’s insistence that he come along. Her jaw was tight, her eyes serious. She hadn’t spoken a word or cracked a smile since they left. God, it was difficult for him to believe this was the same pale, weak, comatose girl he’d visited in the hospital so long ago. She wasn’t pale. Her skin was sun-kissed, and her cheeks pink right now with exertion. Steady, powerful breaths rushed in and out of her lungs, not the steady mechanical rasp of a respirator. Heat rose from her body in spite of the autumn chill.

When she slowed to a walk for the final quarter mile and he caught his breath again, he wanted to talk to her, ask her what her life had been like since coming out of that coma eighteen years ago. He wanted to hear every detail, in her own words, rather than the dry accounts in the typed pages Arthur had sent him. He’d been up most of the night reading those. They’d given him nightmares.