Roundabout

Didi came to a stop next to him and she took his hand, looked up at him. "This has been the coolest day ever!"

"Has it? Well, good, I'm glad you're having a good time."

"You still like my mom, don't you?"

"What makes you say that?"

"The way you're looking at her, I guess."

"I guess I always will, Didi. We were together during a very special part of our lives."

"She likes you too. I can tell."

"Well, I hope so. I hope we can all be friends."

"Me too."

David and Aaron skied up, and he told them to lead the way, then he took off after Didi, watching her ski, thinking about all that had just been said.

"What a day," he said as he approached the starting area. She was standing there, looking at him with those eyes he remembered so well.

"So, one more race to run, Aaron. Are you ready?"

+++++

Aaron stood in the lift line beside Terry; David and her son just ahead -- while Didi was already on the lift, heading up mountain. A line of clouds was moving in, the sun fading fast as the first wispy tendrils came to the mountain. Moments later they were in their chair, pulling the safety bar over and resting their skis when snow started falling. Slowly at first, but seconds later a gust hit and visibility dropped to near zero.

"Why'd you let me win," Terry said, as the fresh gust tore into the chair, causing it to swing.

"What makes you think I did?" Aaron said.

She laughed. A knowing laugh, full of history.

"Did your husband text you back? Is he coming up?"

Terry pulled the phone out of her jacket and looked at it. "He's there, has a table already," she said, wiping snow from the screen before slipping it back inside the pocket.

"What's his name, by the way?"

"Tom. He's CFO for an oil well servicing company."

"Whoa, bet they're hurting right now."

"He's under a lot of pressure -- and he's been very unhappy for months."

"I bet. Is he a skier?"

"Tom? Lord, no. You'll understand when you see him."

"The rest of the day could be like this...you think you'll want to keep going?"

"God, yes. The kids are having a blast."

"And you?"

She looked at him, pulled up her goggles and kissed him. Hard, on the lips, then he felt her tongue and he opened to her. A minute later she pulled away...

"Does that answer your question?" she said, pulling her goggles down, smiling at his reaction.

"Not really, but it'll do."

She laughed again. "You're impossible!"

He looked at her silhouette again, studying the passage of time. He could remember sitting by her on dozens of chairlifts that long ago year, watching her just like he was now. Snow on her blond hair -- wispy fingers dancing in the wind, her collar turned up against the chill. How he used to watch her thighs as she swung her skis back and forth, and her mouth when she put lip balm on. He could even remember the smell...menthol on snow as her breath formed in the air and washed across his face.

"You made life seem possible to me, Terry."

"Where'd that come from?"

"It's good to see you again. That's all."

"It is, isn't it?"

"Okay, ready to lift the bar?"

"Sure, have at it," she said, grinning again.

'Why do I feel like a teenager again,' he said to himself as the loading ramp appeared.

Didi and her brother were waiting, David was already poling for the restaurant when Terry slid to a stop by her kids.

"What's with David?" she asked.

"Too much Gatorade, I think," her son said.

"Ah," Aaron said, "that'll do it every time. Well, let's get out of this snow..." They skated over to the lodge and got their skis racked-up then went inside, happy to bask in the sudden warmth.

"There's Tom, over there," Terry said, pointing.

He was sitting by a large window, his back to them, apparently watching the snow as they walked through the restaurant to his table, and Terry got there first, kissed him on the cheek.

Aaron watched him stand, all five foot five and three hundred pounds of him, and he knew what Terry meant about him not skiing. He looked like he had a sixty inch waist, minimum, and his skin was pasty white, like his hair. Didi ran up and hugged him, his son ignored him, and Aaron came up as Tom turned around and faced him.

"You must be the Aaron I've been hearing about all morning," Tom said.

"Oh?" he said, but he was looking at the man's lips and fingernails. They were blue, too blue.

Tom held up his iPhone. "The wonders of modern technology. I've been getting the play by play direct, as it happens..." He swayed, looked unsteady on his feet and reached for the chair as he sat back.

Aaron went to his side, checked his pulse and felt both the man's carotid arteries, then walked quickly from the table...

"Honey, are you alright...?" he heard Terry saying...

He went to a room down the hall and took out his keys and unlocked the door. Once inside he flipped on the light and grabbed a rolling oxygen tank, then went back to the table. He slipped the mask over Tom's face, turned the valve and set the flow. People were looking at the commotion, but Aaron watched Tom's face and hands. Some color came back, but too slow, he thought. He checked the carotids again: left strong, right almost absent, and he went up to the front desk and told the attendant to get a helicopter up for a medevac, then he called the ski patrol desk, told them what was up and asked them to send a paramedic over. He returned to the table...

"Where's it hurt, Tom?" he asked when he saw the man's face. It was even whiter now, and he was sweating profusely.

Tom pointed at his right arm, then his jaw.

David returned to the table, asked what was going on, then he saw the mask on Tom's face and grew quiet. Two paramedics came in, one carrying a crash box, and Aaron turned to Terry. "I'll get your skis down on the Gondola," he whispered in her ear. "I've called for a helicopter; if they have room you should ride down with them."

She was trembling, but she heard what he said. "It's okay," he heard her say -- faintly, "I know it's okay...you're still here with me, aren't you?"

He didn't know if she was talking to him or to Tom, then she looked at him -- and he saw her as she was in the hospital -- that faraway day -- and the present lurched out of view. He shook himself back into the present, upset with himself for fading away like that... "I'll bring the kids down," he said, "and we'll see you at the hospital..."

He heard the helicopter overhead a minute later, looked out and saw the storm had cleared somewhat, then ushered the kids out of the dining room while the paramedics got Tom ready for transport. "Okay, guys, as soon as your dad's on his way, we're going to ride the gondola back down to town, then I'll get you over to the hospital."

Didi and Aaron looked pale now, almost in shock, but David was with them, and he had a handle on things; a few minutes later Tom rolled by on a gurney, Terry right behind him, and he watched them load up and lift off.

"Okay, let's go," he said, and they went out, grabbed their skis and walked over to the gondola building.

"I'm scared," Didi said, breaking down, letting go; Aaron put his arm around her and held her close, stroked her hair; her brother sat ashen and alone, and when he looked down he saw David holding his friend's hand. He saw the town laid out down below through a gauzy veil of clouds; he pulled out his phone, called the ski school desk, told them they were five minutes out. While he put his phone away he held onto Didi, and he watched impatiently as the gondola drifted slowly down the mountain.

Pepi was waiting for them when they got out of the gondola car, and she ushered them through a back corridor and down an 'employees only' stairway to a waiting Suburban; soon they were easing through traffic to Main, then out to the roundabout at Maroon Creek; moments later they pulled up to the ER entrance, and Aaron noted the helicopter that had carried Tom and Terry was still on the pad.

She was in the ER lounge, waiting quietly, stoically, and her children piled in protectively and they held each other. He looked at them, the three of them together and he smiled at his feelings earlier that day -- hers too -- then he went outside and rode back into town. Their skis were already locked up in the ski school office, so he carried his down to the locker room and peeled off his ski boots.

His phone chirped and he pulled it out of his pocket, looked at the screen. It was Shirley from the rental shop, a text, and he was surprised she had his number. She was getting off at four, she wrote, and would he mind riding back out with her, help her on and off the bus again. He looked at his watch, almost three-thirty, so he texted her back: "Sure, I'll swing by in a few...", and he was about to put his phone away when a call came in, from the hospital.

"Hello," he said.

"Aaron, it's me."

"How is he?"

"Why'd you leave us?"

"Why? Well, let's see, do we really need to go there, Terry?"

She was quiet for a moment, then: "Why are you always there for me, Aaron? When things get really bad, there you are. Can you tell me why?"

"Well, maybe it's like you said. Maybe I'm just there to rescue you..."

"You know, the doctor said if you hadn't done what you did we might have lost Tom..."

"Well, there you go. I'm an equal opportunity rescuer."

She laughed. "I didn't realize how much I loved you back then, Aaron. Until today. I know this sounds crazy, but I'm not sure I ever stopped loving you after all that."

It was his turn to laugh. "Don't worry about it, Terry. You'll get over it. You always do." He sighed, hoped he hadn't hurt her, but suddenly he knew he was hurting. "So, what are the plans? For Tom, I mean?"

"A jet's on the way up now. We're going down to Houston, to Texas Heart. I think they're talking about surgery in the morning, but I don't know."

"I hope you'll let me know when he's out, and how you and the kids are doing."

"You know I will."

"So, you have my number?"

"I do."

"Well, I should let you go..."

"Aaron? This thing between us, whatever it is, it isn't over yet. Do you hear me?"

"I hear you. You have a lot to do now, Terry. Take care of those kids, and tell Didi she's been challenged to a rematch."

She laughed. "I will. She'll be thrilled."

"Okay, Terry. Bye."

"Aaron, I love you."

"I guess you know how I feel. Take care." He quickly hit the 'End' button and slipped the phone into his pocket, then looked at his watch. He sighed, walked upstairs and over to the rental shop and went in, found Shirley sitting on a chair rubbing her thigh, working on the straps of her knee brace.

"Looks like you've had a rough one," he said as he came over to her. "The leg, or the brace?"

"I just can't get it right," she said, and he could tell she was in pain.

He knelt down, felt the straps. "Better let me. They're all twisted up." He flattened the straps, smoothed out the wrinkles in her pants and gently cinched-in the velcro straps. "That better?"

She sighed: "Oh, heavens yes! What'd you do?"

"I'll show you. You ready to roll?"

"Yeah. You know, I was going to ask you...could I cook dinner tonight? I make a mean spaghetti carbonara."

"The last thing you need to be doing is standing on that leg," he said as he helped her up. He took her arm and helped her to the door, but he could feel her uncertainty now. She felt rejected, alone again. He helped her down the stairs, held her arm all the way to the transportation center, and into the shuttle. They rode in silence through the roundabout, and when they came to her stop he told her to keep seated -- and she looked at him, the question in her eyes filling the space between them. When they pulled into the employee lot, he stood and helped her down the stairs, then over to his car.

"I've got to go feed my pup," he said. "Maybe you can hang with me a while?" He looked at her and smiled. "You've never seen my house, have you?"

"No. Last I heard, you were still living in that camper. Did you find a house?"

"Yeah. I found one."

He opened her door, helped her climb up into the seat, then he came around and got behind the wheel.

"What kind of truck is this?" she asked.

"Toyota. A '66 FJ."

"It looks brand new."

"I found it two summers ago, a rusted-out hulk. Rebuilt it last summer."

"You did the work yourself?"

"Yes," he chuckled. "That was the whole point." He grinned while he started the engine: it stumbled for a second, then smoothed out when he gave it some throttle. He looked at her while the engine idled, and when the engine was warm he backed out and hit 82, and they rode in silence back into town.

"You live in town?" she asked at one point, incredulous.

"Yup."

He turned on North Mill, then again on Red Mountain, and he drove up the hill to Wright Road and turned once again, then made a hard turn into an almost impossible to see entrance and down a little corkscrew driveway.

The house was small, at least it looked small from the street, but the design was deliberately elusive from the road, like the house was hiding something from view, perhaps saving the best for last. He pulled into the garage and closed the overhead door, then helped her out and into the entry area. Her eyes were saucer-like, wide and stunned as she looked around.

"This is your place? You, like, renting or house-sitting or something?"

He laughed. "Here, let me take your coat." He hung it in a closet and got her to a chair in the living room, and her eyes went to the windows, and to Aspen Mountain across the valley, then she looked at him again -- like she didn't know who he was.

"I've got to get Terry," he said.

"Oh, you still have her? The white dog?"

"Yup. She's the love of my life, ya know!" he said as he walked back to the little kennel, and he came back with her a few minutes later, carrying the pup in his arms while she licked his neck and chin.

"I remember her white eyelashes, and how much she enjoyed hopping around in your camper," she said. "She's still a love-puppy, I see!"

"Yup, that she is." He put her down and the pup ran over to Shirley and hopped into her lap, then proceeded to lick her senseless.

"This looks like a Wright house, Aaron. It's stunning."

"I guess in a way it is. A protégé, a student of his drew it for me."

"Jesus."

"Not hardly. Well, the choices are steak, salmon, and MacDonald's. What'll it be?"

"I thought I was going to cook for you?"

He shrugged. "I don't like to be away too long," he said, looking at Terry. "Besides, you really shouldn't be on that leg so much. Not yet."

"I don't know then. Whatever you feel like's fine with me..."

"Steak it is, then." He went out on the flagstone patio and put charcoal on the grill, then came in and unwrapped some steaks. He watched the fire, sautéed spinach with garlic and white wine, then set up a quick sauce for the steak with red currants, brandy and peppercorns. He put the steaks on the fire, set a timer on his wrist, then went to the bank of Sub-Zeros and pulled out a couple of brews. He poured two glasses, turned the spinach and sprinkled Romano and pine nuts on top, then covered the pan and dashed out to turn the steaks, ladling his currant sauce on top before he dashed back in and topped off the glasses of beer.

"This is incredible," she said, watching Aaron move around the house. "It's like you're moving around at light-speed all the time..." Moments later he set plates on the dining room table and helped her over, then he sat beside her and took a deep breath.

"Well, that was fun!" he said as he cut into his steak. Terry jumped up in the chair next to his and he gave her the first few bites he cut off, then he looked at Shirley. She was staring at him, more than a little perplexed.

"Something happened today, didn't it?"

"What? Me?"

"Yes, you. What happened today?"

"Nothing much."

"Uh-huh." She shivered, pulled her sweater tight; he was up in a flash and went to the fireplace, lit a fire. They finished dinner and he cleared the plates, did the dishes then helped her back to the living room, and she continued to look at him, feeling her way carefully through his fleeting moods. She saw him as almost fundamentally depressed one moment, lonely, compensating for his loneliness with almost hyperactive bursts of activity, yet always focused beyond his own needs and desires, then the next he seemed almost empathetic beyond belief, reaching outside of himself, compassion his most defining characteristic, but there was something cloying about this too. Almost like he was overcompensating for...

"Would you like something to drink," he asked. "Brandy, Cointreau, something like that?"

"I don't know, my knee's really throbbing..."

"Ah, well then, the hot tub beckons. Come on..."

"Aaron, I don't have a suit..."

"I've got big towels," he said matter of factly, "and I'll leave you to it."

"You would?"

He looked at her, not sure what she meant. "What?"

"You'd leave me there, alone?"

"I assumed you wanted privacy."

"Did you?" She didn't know what to do, what to say. She'd been putting out signals all day; was he just shy? But that just didn't make any sense at all...they had, after all, been intimate before...for almost three weeks -- even though that had been years ago. She was caught between a desire to seduce him -- and to just simply flee, to get as far away from him as she could.

"Well, where are the towels?"

"Follow me," he said, and he led her to a little Japanese bath down the hall. "Shower here, then out that door," he said, pointing. "Do you want me to join you?"

"No. I want you to stand...right here," she said, pointing to the middle of the room, "and help me with my brace." She sat, and he bent to undo the straps, and she watched him, wondering. When he was finished, she stood, and he did too -- but she stopped him. "Stay right there," she said, but he stood.

"I'm not wired that way, Shirley, sorry."

She shrugged, that question answered. "Could you help me out of my clothes, please?"

"Sure." He took her clothing and folded it neatly, then grabbed a towel and wrapped her loosely in it, then took her hand and led her outside to the tub. There was an opening in roof just above, and a few flakes were drifting down onto a small redwood deck, and he went to a console on the wall and flipped a switch. The deck retracted into an adjacent wall, leaving a black slate pool lit a deep blue, then he flipped another switch and the water came alive.

She let the towel slip and stood there facing him, then she kissed him, and he held her, met her kiss on his terms, then he helped her into the water; she slipped from his grasp and drifted to a corner, looking at him.

He flipped off his shoes then, fully clothed, walked into the tub and went to her. He fell to her side and pulled her close, and all the cares of the day seemed to split open for just a moment, and the little boy looked around carefully, then came out to play.

+

She's pretty there, on the sheets. Like a lily, loose and all flowing whiteness...

I like her freckles, her hair all fine and wild red...

She's cute when she sleeps, the way Terry curls up by her side...

Why did we fall apart? What went wrong? Was it me?

Such a strange night. So crazy and intense. So comfortable...no...so comforting...

So many colors. So many emotions. She's so complex, yet so easy to understand.

She comes to love so easily...why can't I?

+

He woke just before six, just before the alarm went off, and he went to the bathroom and showered, then on to the kitchen. He pulled out the Vita-mix and threw in some kale and spinach and an avocado, then some big chunks of pineapple and ice. He blended the mixture, poured two glasses and went back to the bedroom. She was still sleeping, so he leaned over and kissed her cheek, then ran his tongue lightly along an eyelash and she giggled, then opened her eyes. She put her arms around his neck and pulled him close; he could still taste his seed on her breath and he smiled at the memory.