now that she considered it, she wasn’t sure why. He was
handsome—in the way of a high school football player
all grown up. A little beefy still, neck thick enough that
buying shirts had to be a challenge, but he was also
smart, entertaining and nice. She’d never felt any
spark, but…
Rebellion stirred. She had to start somewhere, didn’t
she? What were the odds she’d ever hear from John
Fallon again? So, okay, she thought about him often,
worried about him, dreamed about him. It was time she
started thinking about someone else.
“Yes,” she said. “I’d like that, Chad. I’m free this
weekend.”
The bell rang, and they were just finishing making
plans when students started filtering into the classroom.
He covered her hand briefly with his, smiled and left.
Fiona sat there for a minute, wishing she could feel a
glow of anticipation. It took more than the usual effort
to concentrate on teaching the class.
Oddly enough, the second thing that happened was
right after that class, when Tabitha and Kelli stopped at
her desk on their way out.
They glanced at each other, somehow silently electing Tabitha spokesperson. “We were thinking about Mr.
Fallon and the lodge. Some of us were talking about
how maybe we’d e-mail once in a while. If you have an
address for him.”
Her eyes narrowed. Now, why would they be asking
about John at this exact moment, when she’d just
accepted a date with another man? But she couldn’t
believe one had anything to do with the other—not in
their teen-centered world view—so after a moment she
concluded the timing really was just coincidental.
“Who is ‘some of you’?” she asked.
“Well…not Amy.”
No, of course not Amy.
But Dieter and even Erin. “We were, like, talking the
other day.”
Fiona wondered what had triggered the conversation.
“Do you ever talk to him?” Kelli sounded elaborately casual.
“You know he doesn’t really have phone service.”
“No, I mean e-mail or IM or something.”
“Not in a long while. I do have his e-mail address at
home, though. I’m sure he’d be flattered to hear from
you. I’ll bring it tomorrow.” She nodded at them, and
they accepted the dismissal, glancing back as they
bumped into each other crowding through the doorway.
What in heck was that about?
But she didn’t waste a lot of time speculating. The following day she brought his e-mail address as promised and gave it to Tabitha on a self-stick note. Then she turned
her thoughts to the dinner date that might be fun, if only
she could get past the idea of Chad wanting to kiss her.
THERE WERE A COUPLE of unfamiliar e-mails, but John
ignored them until he’d replied to his sister’s.
Business has been slow these past few weeks—this
is the in-between season. Not enough snow, not
enough sun. Same as last year. But it’ll pick up soon.
He paused, then surprised himself by typing,
Why don’t you come up for a visit?
John almost backspaced to obliterate the invitation
he hadn’t known he was going to offer, but, although
his finger hovered above the key, in the end he moved
his hand to the mouse and clicked Send. Liz was
unlikely to come anyway. She sounded plenty busy,
and content with their e-mail correspondence if invariably concerned about him in a sisterly way.
He was surviving. There wasn’t much else he could say.
In some ways, he’d regressed since Fiona left. The nightmares had returned full-force, and he’d had two major, full-color, 3-D flashbacks, although in neither case, thank
God, had he actually tackled a guest. Once he had yelled
a warning and started running toward two men coming
down the porch steps. He’d seen—God, as real as they
were—a robed figure skirting the porch to intercept them.
He’d seen the odd way the robe draped, the mass of something unnatural around the chest. But in his flashback, there was no explosion, and he reached the foot of the steps
to find only the two bewildered guests. Sweating, shaking,
he’d looked up and found inspiration.
“I must be seeing things.” You think? he mocked himself. “I could have sworn that icicle was breaking free.”