Kindergarten Baby: A Novel Page 7

  “Get that thought out of your mind,” Lindsey said quickly. “We are here to relax, eat lots of good food, take nice, short walks in the snow, and maybe drink one or two too many Grand Marniers in the El Tovar bar. We are not here to exhaust ourselves.”

  “Okay, I see your point. But you left out ‘flirt with all the good-looking men.’ “

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “About the hiking or the flirting?” Laura asked with a beguiling smile.

  They came upon a quaint old bookstore nestled among the pines on the south rim of the Grand Canyon, and Lindsey read “Kolb Studio” on the carved, wooden sign mounted over the door. Inside, they read another information sign, and discovered that Emery and Ellsworth Kolb, who had originally used the structure as their photography studio, had built the place in 1904. The shop was brimming with nostalgic charm, and it had an atmosphere so alluring that Lindsey figured even the most skeptical non-shopper would find it difficult to leave without making a purchase. For two elementary school teachers it wasn’t just difficult, it was practically impossible.

  “Who Pooped in the Park?”

  “Geez, Lindsey. Keep it down!”

  Lindsey laughed. “It’s a book. A picture book. Look! That’s the main part of the title. It’s by Gary D. Robson.”

  “So it is,” her friend said, smiling over her shoulder. “Your little guys are really going to like that.”

  Lindsey made her first Grand Canyon purchase‌—‌the “poop” book and an Arizona alphabet book‌—‌while Laura bought “Hey Ranger!” Kids Ask Questions About Grand Canyon National Park. When they returned to the lodge, the clerk was on the phone. By the look on his face, they could tell the news was not good. He hung up then shook his head.

  “I don’t know how this little mix-up occurred, ladies, but it did, and there simply isn’t another room to be had.”

  “But how can that be?” Laura asked. “We’ve been walking around for an hour, and we haven’t seen many people. How can every room be taken?”

  “We’re expecting several tour buses to arrive any time now, and all those folks have reservations.”

  “But we had reservations, too! And we’re here! We’re here now!” Lindsey cried. She wasn’t about to let anything rain‌—‌or snow‌—‌on her parade. She was going to enjoy life. Relax. See the sights. Maybe even hike the canyon. Do it all‌—‌and that included sleeping in a bed. “There must be something we can do.”

  “Of course there is. Just drive back out of the park to the little town of Tusayan. They have a few rooms left there,” said the clerk.

  “We can’t. Our car is back in Williams. We took the old Grand Canyon Railway. Why can’t you give us one of those rooms that belongs to someone on one of those buses that hasn’t yet arrived? Maybe someone won’t show up. People do get sick, you know. Plans change.”

  The clerk shook his head sadly. “Ah, but what if they all arrive as planned, with their exact confirmation numbers. I’d be in trouble so big it would make the canyon seem small.”

  The women kept on, whining and pleading, looking for a solution, but the clerk was helpless. Eventually, a small man walked up to the desk, shaking his head. “All right, already. Stop your begging. It’s not ladylike. George, just give them my room. I can sleep with my son. He won’t be thrilled, but what’s he gonna do?” He kept shaking his head as he turned from the desk and walked away, still mumbling to himself.

  “Thank you, Mr…‌Mr…”

  But he was already gone.

  The clerk raised one eyebrow. “Well now. That’s a stroke of luck for you.”

  The room was incredible. It had its own wood-burning fireplace, two large log beds, a sitting area complete with two overstuffed, roomy chairs, and a small kitchen. When Lindsey pulled opened the heavy, azure drapes, an unrestrained squeal of delight filled the room. They were rim-side, and the view was spectacular. The setting sun, glimmering through just enough cloud cover, painted a purple glow on the rust-colored cliffs that already sparkled with a light dusting of snow.

  “This must be the best room in the whole place!” she exclaimed, unable to take her eyes from the view. “I wish Anthony was here. He would love this,” came tumbling from her lips before she even realized what she’d said. She looked guiltily at Laura. “Oops.”

  “What? I thought you weren’t—”

  “Okay! I still miss him. I still love him, Laura. Just because I’ve decided, mentally, to get on with my life‌—‌and I will‌—‌that doesn’t mean I don’t still care. It’s going to take a while. I know that. It’s…‌it’s just odd, not having someone to share moments like this with.”

  Laura huffed good-naturedly. “I’ll try not to take that personally,” she said.

  “Oh, you know what I mean.”

  “Of course. I know exactly what you mean. This could have been one of life’s most romantic moments if I was Anthony, or you were…‌Oh, damn. I still don’t know his name.”

  “Whose name?”

  Laura tilted her head to one side, smiling wistfully. “That great guy we met at the Coyote Café that night. You know. The bartender.”

  “He left before I got there, remember? You really like him? Someone actually got to you?”

  She shrugged. “Kind of. But he doesn’t know it yet. I plan to see him again when we get back.”

  They unpacked, took long, hot showers, then sat on their beds, staring out the window.

  “I’m hungry,” Laura said.

  “Me, too. Let’s try the Arizona Steakhouse. I saw it when we came in.”

  “You don’t eat steak.”

  Lindsey lifted her chin and gave her friend a haughty look. “Well, I might tonight.”

  She ended up getting the grilled chicken, since it turned out she wasn’t ready to give up Anthony’s healthy eating rules just yet.

  “This is delicious,” she announced.

  Laura swallowed a bite of steak. “Speaking of birds, what did you do with your newfound feathered friend?”

  “Actually, it was the oddest coincidence. Yesterday I was in the pet store, buying a cage for Malcolm when—”

  “Malcolm? You named it?”

  “Yeah, well, I couldn’t just call him ‘Bird.’ Anyway, there I was, picking out a bird cage, all the time wondering what I was going to do with him while we were here, and in walks Jake.”

  “Jake, the Chinese food guy?”

  “Yep. To make a long story short, he followed me home, I made him lunch, we talked for a while, then he left, taking Malcolm with him.” She smiled. “He’s so nice, and he really likes animals.”

  Laura’s eyes widened. “Lindsey, my dear, I think he likes you.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Malcolm, you’re a lucky bird. Rescued by the kindest woman I know. I wish you could talk, buddy.”

  Malcolm gave him a loud squawk, then reminded him, “Pretty bird!”

  “Yes, you are. And you’re good at talking, your way. I’ll give you that. But I need details, little fella. In English. Where did she find you? What did she tell you? What was she feeling? What does she really look like under those ‘teacher clothes?” He chuckled. “Sorry, bud. That just slipped out.”

  While Malcolm looked on, Jake typed out what he could, based on the conversation he’d had with Lindsey over lunch.

  Subject D appears to have found new energy, new hope. She’s coping with her loneliness better and sooner than I would have anticipated. Didn’t want to talk about anything but the bird and her trip to the Grand Canyon. She was preoccupied with both. Perhaps these factors are distracting her from her own problems, her own pain. Only time will tell.

  At a loss for more details about Subject D, he moved on to other research subjects.

  There is more to Subject C than meets the eye. I am baffled at the coldness and selfishness of this woman. I am also tired of dog sitting, so I may have to resort to hiring a private detective to uncover the missing information on this one. Hiding i
n shadows, waiting in the wings to talk with her is not my style. I hope I’m not in over my head.

  Jake felt unusually agitated, and he wasn’t sure why. He was aware that by getting too close to his subjects he was losing some of his objectivity, and he thought that might contribute to how he was feeling. Or maybe he was just exhausted. After all, he was working two jobs, attending classes, and writing his thesis. And now he was taking care of a chatty bird. All that might be getting the better of him.

  He glanced at his watch and quickly closed his laptop. “Damn it! I’m late again.”

  ***

  A light dusting of snow floated down from the dark winter sky and now sparkled under the few lights illuminating the walkway. Only the crunching of their boots and a few distant, cheerful voices broke the blanketed silence as the women walked in the direction of their room.

  Laura suddenly slammed on her brakes. “No. Stop! We are not going back to our room yet. We only have five days here. We don’t have time to do nothing.”

  Lindsey groaned. She wanted to go back to the room, jump into that huge log bed, and snuggle down with the bag of books she’d brought. She always read nursery rhymes and fairy tales to her students, but this year she’d dedicated the month of January to the implementation of a thematic unit about fairy tales. Many of the books in her bag were newly published versions of fairy tales, and she couldn’t wait to read them. She’d even brought a novel length version of Sleeping Beauty that had been sitting on her shelf for years.

  “Oh, all right. How about one drink at the El Tovar Bar while we plan tomorrow’s activities?”

  Laura tightened her lips, obviously disapproving. “Yes, teacher. Did you bring your plan book?”

  “Well, if you’re going to be that way, let me rephrase my idea. Here goes.” She threw her hands up in the air. “Let’s drink till we’re blind, and during that time we’ll think about the grand possibilities and adventures that could take place on the morrow.”

  “Now you’re talking‌—‌I think,” replied Laura, though she looked dubious.

  The temperature dropped, the snowfall thickened, and the women’s pace quickened. Fortunately, the El Tovar wasn’t far.

  “Look at that Christmas tree!” Lindsey exclaimed, gawking. “It must be twenty-five feet tall.”

  A large fire roared in the mammoth stone fireplace located in El Tovar’s lobby, and several couples sat on the leather loveseats, holding hands and warming themselves in front of the flames. The scent of pine, the glow of the crackling fire, the beauty of the tasteful holiday decor, and the company of the joyful patrons was more than enough to lift Lindsey’s spirits.

  I can do this, she told herself. I can enjoy all this without Anthony.

  Then she slumped. Oh, Anthony, she thought. How could you leave me? And, why can’t I leave you behind?

  Laura glanced at a faltering Lindsey, grabbed her arm, and ushered her into the bar. The cozy room was full, not crowded, but buzzing with park guests who looked as if they’d just come from a photo shoot for an LL Bean catalog. Adirondack barn coats, fleece beanies, quilted parkas, fleece-lined jackets, boots, and hats, all color coordinated as if selected by a winter fashionista. Laura’s and Lindsey’s closets back in Tucson contained mostly summer wear, along with a few sweaters for those rare, cold, southern Arizona days. The few snow gear items they owned were old, though barely used. Glancing around at the show of fashion, Lindsey felt an urge to shop for more than books, and she knew Laura felt the same.

  “What can I get you ladies?” asked the smiling, outdoorsy looking woman behind the bar.

  “Two Grand Marniers, heated, in snifters, please,” Laura replied.

  They sipped the smooth liqueur and settled into the welcoming mood of the place.

  “So, I’ve decided I really would like to hike tomorrow,” Lindsey said, though she hoped to avoid a heavy workout. “Maybe follow the rest of the rim?”

  Laura shook her head. “I’d like to hike down into the canyon. It’s really calling to me.”

  “A nice bus tour is calling to me.”

  “We could do that, too,” Laura said, but she still sounded determined. “We wouldn’t have to go all the way down—”

  “Don’t even think about going halfway down. It’s the middle of winter.” The deep, resonating voice came from the table next to them, and both women turned toward it. He smiled through his beard then stuck out his hand. “I’m Brad Silverton,” he announced.

  “Hi, I’m Lindsey,” she said, taking his warm hand. “And this is Laura. You don’t think the hike is a good idea?”

  “Well now, that depends.” He said a few things about the weather, the inherent dangers of the trail‌—‌especially in winter‌—‌and the women’s inexperience.

  Laura squinted skeptically at him. She didn’t look impressed. “I suppose you’re some kind of canyon expert?”

  Their new acquaintance was handsome in a teddy bear sort of way. Lindsey could see Laura didn’t want him to be right about the hiking, but it wasn’t long before her friend started smiling. It was hard to resist Brad’s warm smile, and he was both charming and intelligent. By the time their drinks arrived‌—‌for which Brad insisted on paying‌—‌Laura was totally into her flirting mode. After about an hour of intriguing conversation, including making a plan for a short hike into the canyon the next day if the weather cleared, Lindsey and Laura agreed it was time to call it a night.

  As they walked away and were putting on their hats and gloves, Brad called out, “How about dinner tomorrow night in the El Tovar dining room?”

  Without a second’s hesitation Laura called back, “Sounds great. What time?”

  “Dinner at eight. See you then.”

  ***

  “It’s eight o’clock,” Anthony said, pacing across their dimly lit bedroom.

  At first he’d welcomed the fact that Shawna wanted to spend so many hours in bed with him, but now that the newness and the intense, addictive thrill of their high energy sex episodes had diminished, he craved a more typical routine. That kind of routine did not involve his babe sleeping the day away, every day.

  “Yes, darling,” Shawna drawled. “It is eight o’clock. Eight o’clock in the morning.”

  “Come on. It’s Saturday. You’re not expected at The Office today. I’d like to go out and enjoy the sunshine, the crisp air, the people‌—‌do something, do anything.”

  She glared at him in disgust. “This Beauty needs her sleep.”

  He knew she wasn’t about to go out and play in the sun. That wasn’t her style. She always had reasons for staying in, laying low in the daylight. After all, this was Tucson, the skin cancer capital of the world. He guessed it seemed reasonable for someone so beautiful to avoid exposing her skin to the treacherous southwest sun. Or did it?

  The fact that she was more than willing to make mad, passionate love to him whenever he desired‌—‌as long as the event took place in their dark bedroom, or anywhere else that was dimly lit‌—‌had clouded Anthony’s vision. Her aggressive, dominating style of making love‌—‌which had thrilled him in the beginning‌—‌was also getting old. In fact, it got downright creepy sometimes.

  And strangest of all was that it definitely didn’t include the one thing that he’d commonly considered to be making love, which was actual…‌sex. She’d told him right up front that she’d do absolutely anything for him‌—‌except for penetration. That was only for her husband, she’d teased.

  At first he’d been skeptical. But then she’d shown him a whole new world of sex. And the things she did to him…

  But her night owl tendencies were getting old.

  “Get up, Shawna. We’re going out, sunshine and all, like real people. It’s December, for God’s sake. A few winter ultra violet rays are not going to hurt you.”

  “No!” she shouted.

  “No?” he shouted back in disbelief. “No? How can you say that? How can you be so unreasonable?” Pulling the edge of the hea
vy window covering aside, he added, “Look! It’s a cloudy day.”

  She shrunk away from the light as if it burned. Shawna was the most baffling individual he’d ever met. Lindsey had always been so rational, so practical. They would talk things through and compromise, make sense of their disagreements. But this woman was different. Oh, he still loved her sexuality, her hunger for him, and her perfect body. But he missed having a friend and a partner. Second thoughts flickered through his mind.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  A fire crackled in the fireplace as the two women snuggled down, each in their own log bed. Lindsey perused her new fairy tale picture books, but soon settled on the Sleeping Beauty novel. She stared at the cover for a while and thought about tomorrow‌—‌in particular, tomorrow night. Did the eight o’clock dinner date include her? Sometimes three’s a crowd, and he’d spoken mostly with Laura. She’d figure it out later.

  Lindsey’s novel didn’t waste any time. Within the first few paragraphs the prince made his way into the castle and found the young sleeping beauty. Lindsey was surprised by the speed‌—‌how in the world was the author going to fill the next two hundred and fifty pages when the only things left to do were kiss the princess awake, marry her, then live happily ever after? Perhaps the happily ever after part would go on forever.

  She continued and discovered the famous wake-up kiss was a bit more than a kiss. That was okay, she figured. After all, this was a novel, not a children’s picture book. She kept reading, and her mouth fell open with shock. The book grew steamier with every word, each one seductively describing the handsome prince’s skillful removal of Beauty’s hundred-year-old velvet gown, and the journey his hands, eyes, and mouth took in and around her delicate, young body.

  “Lindsey!” Laura said, laughing. “What’s going on over there? You’re reading with your eyes bulging out, and your jaw looks like it’s about to hit the floor.”

  “It’s the book. It’s…‌let’s just say it’s not quite what I expected.”